Chapter 42
SELENA
It’s Troy’s birthday and I’m baking a cake.
It’s Troy’s birthday and I’m baking a cake.
I repeat the words like a mantra otherwise I’ll snap! I’m so damn annoyed! With Grayson and myself.
Halfway up the stairs, he catches up to me. His long legs easily overtake my pace, he reaches the front door before I do.
“You didn’t have to come up,” I grumble as I unlock the door. I only need to get the frosting and tools for Troy’s cake. Candles too. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
Grayson doesn’t say anything though. He just holds the door open for me after I pocket my keys.
“Tell me about your date,” he insists.
“What!?” I spin in place in time to see him lock the door. Our eyes meet and heat creeps up the back of my neck. He’s watching me in a way I’m sure I’m misreading.
“Selena.”
That’s not fair. His voice. The way he says my name...it’s infuriating!
“What do you care?” I mutter. He’s made it clear he doesn’t.
“That bad?”
“I didn’t say that!“
“You didn’t have to say it.” That smug expression is the reason I glare at him. “If you had a good time, you’d want to talk about it.”
That’s a good point. But, I don’t bother correcting his assumption—I don’t tell him there was no date.
“Where did he take you—”
“I’m not talking to you.”
He runs a hand through his hair. I turn away because I’m about to do something I can’t undo. I’m this close.
“Someplace nice?” he asks, his jaw flexing.
I pretend I don’t hear a word.
“You sleep with him?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“I’m making it my business.”
“What?! Why?” I demand. “Why do you suddenly care?!” I’m in his personal space, glaring while wanting to reach out for him and end my misery.
“Why do you think?”
I don’t know! He sounds so calm, yet I’m trembling with uncertainty and desire.
“There was no date, okay?!” I snap. So much for not telling him.
I turn away to grab the folding step-stool next to the refrigerator.
The wooden lazy Susan I use for cake decorating is in the cabinet above the stove.
That’s what I focus on. Not on him. Not on the intensity of his gaze.
Not on how wonderful he smells. Not on how much I want to touch him and have him touch me.
“I canceled at the last minute,” I shrug one shoulder, going for casual. I don’t think I manage it. “But I didn’t want to show up at the game anyway, so I lied to Letty and told her I was going out with Lucas.”
“I don’t want to hear that,” he states, his voice a menacing rumble.
“Hear what?”
“His name on your lips.”
My heart trembles in my chest. I don’t know why. I don’t know enough of him, of relationships, of my own feelings to understand what this thing between us is. If it even is a thing.
Swallowing down the nervousness keeping me in place, I climb up the step-stool, stretching to reach for the lazy Susan I store up there. Grayson is suddenly behind me, only a few inches away. I didn’t even hear him move into the tiny kitchen.
His chest brushes against my back. The heat of his body engulfs me. I hold my breath as he reaches into the cabinet.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” he whispers against the shell of my ear as he hands me something.
“Yeah,” I reply, nearly leaning back into him. Not enough air is reaching my brain. I’m not even sure what I’m holding in my hands. It could be a cupcake tray or a giant potato or a lion cub and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
“Why didn’t you want to go to the game?” he presses.
I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. Since I’m up on the step stool, we’re nearly eye to eye.
His face is so close, I can feel his breath fan across my lips. The way he’s watching me, with a sort of fascination, it doesn’t make sense.
“I—I don’t know.”
“You do know.”
I shake my head. “What do you want me to say?”
His eyes burn like blue flames. When his gaze drops to my lips, my apartment feels smaller. And hotter. It’s so quiet I can almost hear my heart racing.
“You’ve never missed a game before,” he murmurs. “Why didn’t you—?”
“Because you’d be there!”
I didn’t mean to answer truthfully, but maybe it’s a good thing I did. His eyes narrow, the blue is a raging sea during a hurricane. Violent, destructive, overwhelming.
“Is it that you don’t want to be around me,” he asks, “or that you do?”
Both.
“What!?” I scoff, making a weird chuckling sound.
His jaw clenches. There’s no warmth in his eyes, no tender smile curving his lips.
The glimpse of the sweet, thoughtful Grayson I witnessed in his room the night I lost my v-card is nowhere to be found.
“I don’t know what you mean, Rhodes,” I say with a laugh to keep this conversation light, to keep myself from reading into his words, to keep from falling further.
“Selena.”
Suppressing a shiver, while he remains completely unaffected, I tear my gaze from his and try to put some distance between us. Scrambling off the step-stool, I nearly trip, but he’s there, keeping me from hitting the floor. If I wasn’t blushing before, I am now.
Ducking my head I mutter, “I’m good, thanks,” as he releases my arm and my waist. Clearing my throat, I move away.
Continuing to gather and place everything carefully on the counter, I crisscross the kitchen. He hasn’t moved, but it feels like he’s looming closer, his presence everywhere. I don’t like that I like it.
“Selena?” His voice is deep, rich, seductive.
My breath catches in my throat and I stop my frantic search in the kitchen. I'm frozen in place, pinned to the floor by the sudden wave of emotion in his eyes.
I don’t want to think or hope or anything anymore. He confuses me and I have to turn away.
But...I can’t help myself. He’s here. In my apartment. Just him and me. My entire being buzzes with a need so potent, it’s inevitable that my gaze returns to his.
The way he’s looking at me, with a desperation I feel in my bones gives me the courage to stay where I am. When I lick my lips, his adams apple bobs as he swallows. Neither of us says anything. The tension in his arms and shoulders is clear, as are the muscles rippling while he stalks towards me.
I’m scared, frightened by how much I want him. This can’t be normal. To go from practiced apathy and indifference to absolute and unquestionable desire.
“We should go,” I whisper. “I have everything I need.” The hesitancy in my voice doesn’t deter him. He keeps walking until he’s so impossibly close, I have to tilt my head back to look up into his eyes.
“Do you really have everything you need?” The words, spoken in his low gravely timbre, curl like smoke in my belly.
“Yes. No.”
I’ve barely admitted that when he reaches for me. His hand slides up to cradle my jaw. His blue eyes are practically glowing. I recognize the look. Revel in it. Want it more than my next breath—and that scares me too.
“Tell me,” he whispers. “What do you need?”
I shake my head as I watch the heat and hunger tangle in his gaze. He looks like he wants this, like he wants me. He hasn’t admitted anything, but his eyes reveal it all.
There’s so many reasons I shouldn’t want him. He’s my brother’s best friend, I remind myself. He’s a grumpy pitcher who’s made it clear he doesn’t like me. “Don’t get attached to Gray.” A warning I should listen to.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I reply in a faint whisper.
His thumb traces the line of my jaw. “It’s not,” he agrees. The single, featherlight touch takes my breath away.
“Then, we shouldn’t—”
“No, we definitely shouldn’t,” he agrees again, silencing the rest of my words. Silencing the doubt and questions because we both know he’s right. And yet, he doesn’t move away. Neither do I.
His thumb runs along my bottom lip and I feel like I’m on fire, about to go up in flames. I should move away before I burn everything down with me.
“Tell me I can kiss you,” he says.
My heart is beating so fast. And I’m sure, equally as loud. I can’t think beyond this moment. Beyond how much I want this, how much I want him.
I feel out of control. I’m being reckless. I know I should say no. I shouldn’t invite anything more from him. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I can’t.
“Kiss me,” I manage to say.
The words are barely out of my mouth when his lips collide with mine in a devastating kiss.