Chapter 41
SELENA
Since it’s Troy’s birthday, Sammy asked me to bake him a cake, which would be fine except the oven in my apartment broke down a week ago. The last time that happened, it took the apartment manager over a month to get someone to show up. I just hope it’s fixed before finals.
Anyway, that’s the reason I’m currently baking at Gibson Place.
The guys are at their baseball practice.
Yes, even though it’s Troy’s birthday. Yes, even though they won last night.
Apparently practice is never rescheduled or canceled, or so Sammy tells me.
Who would’ve guessed Grayson Rhodes was so strict?
Anyway, they’ll be back in an hour or two.
I’m actually nervous about seeing him again.
It’s been a week since he stopped by Roar Coffee asking if we could talk.
Almost two weeks since we...slept together?
Had sex? He took my v-card? Well, I basically offered it on a silver platter—here, please take it!
We haven’t spoken. Texted. Nothing. It’s like we’re back in freshman year. But somehow, this is worse. Because now I know what I’ve been missing.
At Roar Coffee, I had to pretend I wasn’t happy to see him.
I had to act like we hadn’t shared the most amazing night.
When he came up to the counter, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
“I’ll be right with you,” I muttered so I could hide the excitement I know would light up my face.
It was so weird pretending to be unfazed and completely nonchalant about him, acting like his presence meant nothing when the opposite was true.
But I had no choice, I had to do it! I mean, is it absolutely necessary to conceal my unexpected and ill-timed feelings and thoughts? Yes because we had an agreement!
Just this one time.
And yet, despite that, he showed up at Roar Coffee wanting to talk.
I’m pretty sure he was going to ask me to pay for the sheets I ruined.
I was totally prepared to do it too because I did ruin them.
But when I called his name, he didn’t pick up his drink.
Breaking protocol and ignoring the never ending long line, I stepped outside to hand deliver his coffee, but he was gone. My heart sunk when I realized he left.
I keep wondering what he wanted to talk about. I’ve been in a constant state of reliving everything that happened. Everything he did and said and made me feel. Even reading my books is different now.
I always pictured a random, faceless guy as the MMC in any given book. Tall, attractive, body like an Aztec warrior. But now I picture him. Grayson Rhodes. He’s the fae prince. The rock star. The Mafia’s boss’s son. They’re all him.
Which makes all these thoughts I’ve been having even worse, especially at night. Way, way worse.
I’m so embarrassed to admit I actually used the vibrator Letty gave me as a gag gift back when I turned twenty-one. I’ve orgasmed more times than I could count thinking about him.
While it felt good at the time, after I did it, it’s like I crossed a line and things are different between us.
Of course that’s dumb because he doesn’t know what I’m up to alone in my bed at night.
He has no clue my body is suddenly aching for him in a way I’ve never experienced before and that I only find temporary relief while touching myself to thoughts of him.
But even the gnawing guilt wasn’t enough to stop me from using my vibrator again this morning. Literally who am I?!
“Hey, Selena!”
I blink away these all-consuming thoughts as Trevor steps into the kitchen, followed by Troy and Big Mike. Guess practice is over early.
“Hey guys,” I smile at them, then hug Troy. “Happy Birthday! How’s your day been?”
Troy smiles and suddenly he looks so much younger. “It’s been good!” he beams. “Short practice—”
“For once! It’s a birthday miracle!” Trevor chimes in.
“The guys have been pretty cool, too,” Troy adds. “We went out last night to celebrate our win and ring in my birthday!”
“We got shit-faced,” Trevor howls with laughter, shoving the birthday boy aside.
That’s when Sammy walks in with Grayson, who sucks all the air out of the kitchen. Butterflies swirl in my stomach at the sight of him. My stomach really needs to quit doing that.
Selena, relax. You had sex. People have sex all the time. It’s not a big deal. Everything’s fine.
When Grayson sees me, he stops abruptly, as though he hit an invisible wall. His handsome face hardens. Obviously, everything is not fine.
“Hermanita!” Sammy steals my attention from Grayson. “How’s that cake coming along?”
I’m so grateful I can focus on my brother’s eager expression—which tells me he’s looking forward to the cake—and ignore the dirty looks his best friend is directing my way.
“I thought it was a surprise?” I mutter under my breath, but I’m grinning. It’s easy to feel at the ease when Sammy’s around.
“Kind of hard to keep it a surprise when you’re baking his cake where he lives,” Grayson declares, sounding annoyed.
“My oven broke down,” I reply, to defend myself.
“You could’ve bought the cake.”
No I couldn’t! Cakes are expensive.
“I wanted to bake it.”
“Why?”
Every pair of eyes bounces between us. A blush rises to my cheeks, so I return to the stove.
“Because the carrot cakes around here—”
“It’s carrot cake?!” Troy interrupts, smiling at me.
“It’s going to be,” I tell him, while forcing myself not to look in Grayson’s direction.
“It’s not her fault, G,” Trevor laughs, coming to stand next to me. “He hates when we use the oven,” he mock whispers.
“Because you never clean it afterwards.”
“See?” Trevor smirks.
“I’ll be sure to clean it,” I reply, offended that he would think otherwise.
“Like you did last time?”
“Last time?” Troy wonders.
Trevor replies, “After you made those amazing double chocolate chip cookies!”
I made those for him! Trying to impress him, or win him over, or I don’t know! Whatever, it doesn’t even matter.
When I turn to stare him down, he has his arms crossed over his chest, looking intimidating and imposing in a way that makes his shoulders look wider and his chest look broader. I mentally kick myself for being impressed with how he looks when he’s acting like a jerk.
“Gray, relax, man,” Sammy throws an arm around Grayson’s shoulders. “That wasn’t Sel’s fault. We promised to clean up since she baked them for us, but we ended up going to The Lion’s Den and forgot all about it by the time we got back.”
“We were gonna clean up in the morning,” Troy adds.
“Promise,” Trevor swears, nodding his head solemnly.
“So be nice to my sister, before I have to kick your ass!” Sammy holds Grayson in a headlock in the annoying way he does to me, but unlike me, Grayson shoves him off without messing up his hair.
Sammy’s smiling at his best friend, but I know he’s serious. He would defend me against anyone, anywhere.
“Why are you being unkind to Selena?” Big Mike asks Grayson.
“Yeah, bro,” Troy adds. “Don’t be a dick. That can be my gift,” he winks and blows a kiss aimed at Grayson.
“Real funny, asshole,” Grayson mutters, his lips turned down at the corners. This is the most I’ve seen him interact with his teammates outside of baseball. The easy camaraderie between them lightens the mood again.
“I’ll just return the other thing I got you then,” Grayson smirks, but the air shifts when his eyes meet mine, charging the space between us. My mouth feels dry and I look away.
“Alright, forget grumpy pants over there, when are we eating?” Trevor asks, rubbing his palms together.
I clear my throat. “Letty and Jess should be here any minute.” The doorbell rings just as I finish saying that. “Can someone help them bring the food in, please?”
Stumbling over each other, they rush off. Soon Jess walks in carrying a case of beer.
“Sel, don’t be mad,” she says, placing it on the counter with a thud.
I stop to look at her. She’s up to something. I can tell because she’s playing with her earrings. It always gives her away.
“We forgot the frosting you asked us to bring,” Letty explains, walking in behind her. Why is Letty trying really hard not to smile?
“Oh and the candles,” Jess adds as I take out the two rounded pans out of the oven.
Okay, maybe they’re not plotting anything. Maybe they just feel bad about forgetting.
“Don’t worry about it, you guys brought everything else,” I smile. “I’ll go home real quick. The cake has to cool down anyway.”
“I’ll go with you,” my brother offers, but he’s already eyeing the trays of food Grayson and the others are bringing in.
“Hey, what if Gray-Gray gives you a ride?” Letty wonders out loud, her face the picture of innocence. I don’t buy it for a second.
“That’s right,” Jess snaps her fingers, “he can drive you in his car!”
They obviously planned this. And I’m obviously going to kill the two of them.
“It’ll be faster for sure,” she adds, still playing a part in this scenario they concocted.
Grayson raises a questioning eyebrow as he looks between Jess and Letty.
“That’s not necessary,” I begin to argue at the same time Sammy slaps Grayson’s shoulder and says, “Thanks for giving Selena a ride!”
“I can walk,” I insist giving my brother the stink eye.
“Bro, for me?” Sammy counters with that annoying look he perfected when he was like two years old. The one where he could convince me to do practically anything. “I’d feel better if you didn’t go alone. You know I trust Gray,” he finishes, his brown puppy dog eyes directed at me.
Ugh.
“The faster you go, the faster you get back,” Letty adds in a sing-song voice.
Arguing now will only make the situation worse, so I turn to an annoyed looking Grayson. “Do you mind?” I ask him.
“Let’s go,” he replies, walking out of the kitchen without another word.
I follow behind Grayson. When I look back at Letty, she gives me the biggest smile and two thumbs up. Jess winks at me and mouths, “You’re welcome!”
Jessica Alexander-Ochoa and Leticia Aquino are no longer my friends. I shouldn’t have let them pull that stunt. I should’ve insisted on coming alone. Because being in Grayson’s car, sitting next to each other, awkwardly in silence is horrible.
“How was practice?” I ask.
“Fine.”
“Are you excited about pitching tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Sorry about Jess and Letty.”
He spares me a quick glance, but doesn’t comment. Fine, he doesn’t want to talk, we don’t have to talk. I’m not even going to bother asking why he showed up at Roar Coffee.
“How much do I owe you for the sheets?” Because if this is how he’s going to be, then I don’t want to owe him anything.
“Sheets?”
He sounds confused. I bite my lip to keep from yelling at him.
He’s probably had lots and lots of sex since...us. He said no other girl had been in his room but that was obviously a line. Of course he has no clue what I’m talking about. Why would he? I cross my arms and look out the passenger side window.
Whatever. I don’t need to fill the silence. I can sit here quietly too.
About halfway between Gibson Place and my apartment, he startles me with the strangest question.
“How was your date?”
My date? What date?
I turn to face him, watching his profile against the backdrop of shops and restaurants that make up Tower Lake Village. It’s really annoying how handsome he is. Like why? Who needs to be that good looking?!
“Two weeks ago. Lucas,” he explains, then clears his throat. “You weren’t at Tuesday night’s game. Or Saturday’s.”
I haven’t been to any of their recent games. I’ve been staying away because even though Grayson and I agreed one night only, my body didn’t get the memo. I’ve been a horny monster lately, which I’m still learning to navigate, so I figured the best thing to do was keep my distance.
Anyway, I don’t know if I should be honest and tell him there was no date. I canceled at the last minute. Literally. I called Lucas and said I couldn’t make it thirty minutes before I was supposed to meet him. I know that sucks, which is why I apologized in person, but didn’t try to reschedule.
I told Letty it was still happening because I didn’t want to go to the game. I mean, I absolutely did not want to see Grayson Rhodes, in his uniform, pitching, looking ridiculously attractive and incredibly sexy and totally off-limits.
“Alvarez?” he mutters.
“We’re not doing that, remember?” I snap.
He probably doesn’t remember that conversation, but I do. It’s crystal clear in my mind. Every interaction is. During a different car-ride, he didn’t want to talk to me then. Well, I don’t want to talk to him now. Because I know I’ll end up saying something I shouldn’t.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I keep my gaze focused straight ahead. The street lined with pine trees has all my attention.
“Doing what?” he asks.
“Talking.”
He grips the steering wheel so tight, I’m pretty sure he can pull it off the dashboard if he wants to.
“You said we could be friends,” he counters.
I stare at him. My mouth might be hanging open. What?!
“Friends?”
He nods once.
“Friends aren’t rude. Friends don’t ignore friends,” I snap.
Wait. Is that what he wants? Us to be friends? Might as well find out and know for sure.
“You want to be friends?” I ask.
Once the words are out, I want to take them back. Why did I sound nervous and hopeful? Ugh. Doesn’t matter because he doesn’t even answer. I don’t understand him.
By the time we get to my apartment, I’m feeling even more awkward and flustered. Before he turns off the ignition I’m already out of the car and racing up the stairs to get away from him and all the things he makes me feel.