2. Verena
2
VERENA
I don’t understand his need to protect me. We’re acquaintances, that’s it.
But if that were the case, I wouldn’t have come knocking at his door in the middle of the night— nice one, Rena .
I’ll admit, Grimm is fucking gorgeous. Seeing him round that corner without a shirt practically impregnated me. There’s just something about him being muscular and tattooed to the fucking balls–I’m just assuming–that does it for me. He towers over everyone, standing tall at 6’6”. Dark, long curls fall to his shoulders and frame that godly jawline of his perfectly. His eyes resemble the color of freshly brewed black coffee. My fucking favorite.
He’s the complete opposite of Leo, in more ways than one. Ashy blonde hair, green-eyed Leo. That’s who I should be with right now. Sighing, I sit on his couch and wait for Grimm to return with my water. On an inhale, his smell envelops me, sandalwood and sage, clouding my senses.
Examining Grimm’s space, I spot his bowl and a grinder. “Oh, thank fuck,” I whisper to myself while reaching over to the side table holding my favorite playthings. After dumping the ash into a garbage can, I twist open the grinder and begin to pack a fresh bowl. I take my first hit as the door swings open and Grimm fills its frame.
“Make yourself at home. Please.” He says, chuckling. A hint of a smirk creeps across his full lips and grants me access to see those profound dimples and perfect pearly whites.
I gulp, my throat feeling drier than when I was screaming for my life earlier tonight. Reaching for the water, Grimm begins to shoot out questions. I assumed he wouldn’t pry, but I guess it's reasonable enough for him to ask what’s going on.
I don’t want to lie to him, but he can’t know the truth. In an attempt to change the subject, I mention Ronnie. Typically, everyone ends the conversation as soon as I bring her name up. No one wants to talk about the little girl who died at such a young age and never got to experience life, because what else is there to say?
Nothing. At least for them. They didn’t know her like I did. Having a six-year age difference did zilch to put us on opposing sides. We knew each other better than anyone else. Based on the look he gives me, I should’ve known better than to try and lie my way out of it with Grimm. He’s a people watcher. Studies their body language, their emotions, and facial expressions. He’s always been that way, knowing just how to seduce and intimidate everyone with his charm and mysterious nature.
Grimm looks scary on the outside, but underneath all of that muscle and ink, is a big, goofy golden retriever. In our younger years, he was rambunctious and careless. Always running away from the trouble he had caused with Emmett, pranking the neighborhood kids and their parents. It wasn’t until I came to Blackwood that I learned of his kind-hearted nature. Somehow he was at every party, that infectious smile plastered on his face, with friends in every crowd, and a line of girls following him, waiting for their turn to get his attention. He thrives on that shit, I swear.
He was always around. Not watching me, but watching out for me. I noticed it once at a high school party many years ago. As soon as I walked in, Grimm was pulling me into a game of spin the bottle, making some sort of claim on me. Of course, his bottle spin landed on me and we shared a kiss. One small peck that most likely meant nothing to him, but changed the way I saw him forever. It changed the way outsiders looked at me too. Boys avoided me like the plague after seeing us together. Girls envied me over a boy who wasn’t mine to begin with.
The knight-in-shining-armor act doesn’t make sense to me. Besides that one night at the party, Grimm and I have barely spoken full sentences to each other. We acknowledge one another with head nods and small smiles so why did I feel the need to run to him and why does he feel obligated to save me?
Where does the need to protect me come from? I couldn’t tell ya. But holy shit, does it feel good to be held by him, listened to, and promised that he’d do anything I asked if it granted me protection.
Admittedly, I’ve thought about what Grimm and I would’ve been like in another life. Another life where Leo and I didn’t exist. Another life where I wasn’t so wrecked over losing Ronnie. Another life where I wasn’t weak, where I wasn’t Verena Losado.
I’ve stayed up late one too many times, fantasizing about what it’d feel like to be underneath him, his breath fanning my skin and his fingertips tracing along my collarbone. I’ve dreamt about following each line of every tattoo on his body with my tongue and satiating the hunger that’s made a home within me.
I clear my throat, focusing on the present moment. Fantasies are just that. Unrealistic and fleeting. My reality is Leo and we’re just going through a rough patch…again. Tonight was just another misunderstanding and I need to sleep it off. The last thing I want is for Grimm to poke around my relationship with Leo and try to be my savior.
We share a joint in silence and it's the most peace I’ve felt in months. I’m too buzzed to even think about leaving at this point, so my plan is to curl up on this couch and sneak out first thing in the morning while Grimm is asleep. But to my surprise, he doesn’t leave my side. Putting out the joint, he drops his head back onto the couch and closes his eyes. The heaviness of my head is too much for me to carry and it connects with his shoulder. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me in closer.
I shut my eyes, but I’m unable to fully relax because I’m too preoccupied thinking about everything Grimm said tonight and where it's coming from. Is he looking out for me as a long-time friend? Or is it something more?
The most important questions are, where do I go from here? How do I ensure my safety and my freedom?
Tomorrow’s another day, and my pestering thoughts are just going to have to wait until then. Tonight, I’m basking in the scent of sandalwood, sage, and bud.
Tonight I’m safe with Grimm.