Chapter 39
GRAYSON
She’s gone.
When I wake up, I’m alone in my room, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The scent of vanilla and coconut lingers on the pillows and sheets. I catch myself smiling for no reason.
Don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, I don’t even like vanilla. Or coconut either. Still, an irrational sense of disappointment surges through my chest. I shake it off like the covers I toss aside.
The pool of pink fabric that was her dress, isn’t tossed over the desk. Her shoes are no longer by the door. Her panties should still be in my jean pocket unless she took those too.
Can’t believe she left while I slept. That’s never happened. I’m the one that leaves.
It’s fine. In fact, this is better than fine. It’s perfect, actually.
I can go about my day as though she was never here. As though last night didn’t happen. It’s what we agreed on. She’s living up to her end and so will I.
The rest of Saturday sucks.
Sunday does too.
Monday drags.
Tuesday is an away game and I pitch like shit. Didn’t even make it to the third inning. Gave up four runs and walked two. We were down 5-0 by the time I got off the mound.
The problem started early in the day. I overheard Letty tell Big Mike that the girls weren’t coming to the game, even though Green Cove is only twenty minutes away. “Jess has a meeting with her advisor that she can’t miss and Selena has a date with Lucas,” she said.
Well, what do you know? A fucking date.
Figured she made up the whole Lucas thing. Guess not. I should be applauding Alvarez. She knows what she wants and is going after it. It’s an admirable quality.
That’s not what happens though. Hearing that shit fucked me up. Ruined my whole goddamn day on the spot. I was pissed, livid. Without reason, of course.
She’s free to do who and what she wants. I know this. She knows this. Everyone fucking knows this. Doesn’t change the fact I want to kick that goddamn swimmer’s ass and shred him to pieces.
My hands itch to grab my phone and text her. My feet want to run to her place so I can ask, “What the fuck?”
I don’t do any of that. I focus on my workout. Order lunch for the guys because it’s my turn to cook. Then we all head down to the stadium locker rooms.
Couldn’t relax during any part of the game. I was on edge. Kept looking up at the stands. Stupid, really.
After the game Coach Stone pulled me aside and gave me his “winners are forged in the fire” speech. I nodded along and thanked him for his concern.
We’re still in first place, but we can’t afford another loss.
Since we couldn’t come back from the hole I dug us in during that shit show of a game, the guys want to drown their sorrows at The Lion’s Den. I don’t. The possibility of seeing people I don’t want to see is more than enough to keep my sorry ass home.
Wednesday feels like a month.
Thursday I’ve had enough. My behavior is unjustified. I’m acting like I’ve never had good pussy before. Sure it was my first time going bare, sure it felt like a fucking dream, but who gives a fuck. I decide then and there that I will no longer think of her.
I. Will. Not.
I won’t waste anymore time reliving our night together.
I’ll stop replaying the soundtrack of her pleasure in my mind over and over again.
Remembering the sinful little sounds she made and the shy words she managed to say benefit no one, especially not me.
It’s why I throw away my sheets and why I purchase a random citrus scented candle at the gas station to get any lingering scent of hers out of my room.
Friday I come to the conclusion that I need to get laid. Fuck ‘em and forget ‘em. That’s how I’ve always viewed sex and one night is not going to change that.
“Bro, you good?” Sammy asks when he finds me sitting in the dugout after practice. I thought everyone left.
“Yeah, fine.”
“You don’t look so good,” Trevor points out.
Big Mike sits down next to me. “Do you need to be embraced?” he asks at the same time Troy opens his big mouth, “Is this about that girl?”
“What girl?!”
“You got a girl, bro?”
“Who is this girl?”
My girl? I shake my head. “No girl,” I state with a straight face I know they’ll believe. “Been having trouble sleeping, that’s all,” I shrug. It’s half the truth. “Guess I’m just tired.”
“Is that why you’ve been pitching like shit?” Trevor voices what they’re all likely thinking. Sammy shoves him to be quiet.
“How about The Lion’s Den? On me,” I say because I refuse to continue to sit here like some fucking loser because of a girl. “Give me five.” I stand and head for the showers.
The Lion’s Den was the wrong call. The whole school is here. Plus, they keep picking terrible songs on the jukebox. That’s when the worse song that can possibly play at this moment plays.
I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.
The universe has a fucked up sense of humor. “I need a beer,” I say, walking towards the bar.
Two girls come up to me. They want to take me back to their place. It sounds like the sort of night I need. I end up turning them down anyway.
How long is this fucking song?!
Memories of that night overtake my thoughts.
Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are parted slightly. When I take off my boxers, her eyes are wide with a mixture of desire, alarm, and excitement.
“It’s—you’re—that’s not going to fit!” she cries, staring at my cock. My ego grows by a thousand.
“We’ll make it fit,” I smirk.
The look on her face is partly panicked, slightly nervous, but entirely aroused, like she cannot wait for me to fuck her.
A fight breaks out in the billiards room. The sound of broken glass that follows disrupts my thoughts.
“I have never known you to be a daydreamer,” Big Mike smiles.
“Fuck off,” I laugh at his ridiculous statement.
My phone vibrates and I rush to check it. There’s no new texts from her.
“You like this Iced Vanilla Latte girl?” Big Mike surmises, looking at my screen, which I quickly hide. For being a nosy fucker, I let him carry the tray of their beers to our table.
I should let his comment go. Out of pride if nothing else. But I can’t. “No, I don’t fucking like her,” I state. I simply changed her contact name. Not a big deal.
His smile only gets bigger. Motherfucker.
“You don’t like who?” Troy asks, coming up behind us. “Your girlfriend?”
“You’re both dumbasses.”
We sit at our booth. It’s familiar and oddly comforting. The conversation flows easily, though no one finishes their drinks. The entire time I try and fail not to think about last Friday night.
I didn’t know she was on the pill. Never thought she’d let me fuck her raw. Never thought I’d trust someone enough to do that with either.
She gasps as I roll my hips, thrusting just a little harder and faster. Sharp nails dig into my back as her impending orgasm grows closer.
“You feel so good, princess,” I whisper into her neck. I know the exact moment when her climax hits. Her back arches and her pussy flutters, squeezing me in the most desperate and decadent way, demanding I come too.
My name escapes past her lips and I nearly lose my shit.
I’m surprised I’ve lasted as long as I have.
The way she responds is unlike anything or anyone before.
She surrenders completely. Without question or hesitation, giving me everything she has.
And I want it all. Her innocence, her pleasure, her pain.
I want it. Need it. I’ve never felt this way. This possessed or possessive.
I grind my cock against the delicious heat of her pussy, prolonging her pleasure as she claws at my back.
Massaging her gorgeous tits, I tease and suck on one pert, brown nipple, then tease and suck the other one.
She rewards me with little gasps and moans, as she clings to me, nearly incoherent with bliss.
I don’t stop fucking her until she cries my name one more time. My balls draw up tight and my spine tingles. I can’t hold back any longer.
“Selena,” I grunt, coming so fucking hard, my gaze blurs around the edges.
“Grayson, bro.”
“Told you he wasn’t paying attention.”
I’m not even going to pretend I was listening. “Repeat the question.”
“He was daydreaming,” Big Mike announces to the table.
“About his maybe-girlfriend,” Troy adds finishing his beer.
“Twenty bucks says I know who she is!” Trevor chuckles, but Sammy waves him away.
“We should get going,” he says, standing. “I’m ready to pass out,” he yawns.
“Fine,” Trevor mutters. “Anyway, G needs to get some sleep.”
Before I can argue, Big Mike slaps my shoulder. “It is true. You look very tired.”
“Want me to drive?” Trevor offers, but I refuse.
“I got it. Let’s go.”
Lying in bed, exhausted, but wide awake is my new norm.
Once we got home, Trevor and Troy headed to the kitchen.
Everyone else went up to their rooms, including me because my attempt to get a workout in was derailed by Sammy and Big Mike who insisted they would sing love songs until I returned to my room to get some sleep.
I know they’re only looking out for me. It’s still annoying as fuck though.
The problem is when I shut my eyes, I only see one thing. The images are so clear, it’s pissing me off.
Her eyes are closed but she’s smiling so sweet, looking so utterly satisfied. I inhale her scent, allowing it to envelop me, as my hips slow between hers.
Sex tends to feel good, but this is different. More somehow. I’m practically floating on a cloud of pleasure. Never been this pleasantly exhausted or this relaxed simultaneously. I don’t even want to move.
“Grayson?” Her eyes flutter open.
I’m still panting. So is she. “Yes, princess?”
She blushes at the nickname, looking up at me with a tenderness that feels both raw and vulnerable. It steals my breath away. “I was thinking,” she says and I’m unable to resist leaning down to kiss her. It’s a soft kiss. She swirls her tongue with mine as I pull out of her.
“Can we go again?” she smirks and I nearly fall off the bed. This girl.
My phone rings. I look at the caller and decline. He’s upset I cancelled two meetings in as many days. Tossing my phone on the bed, I close my eyes.
As we’re lying side by side, she pulls the sheets up to her chin. A green gaze and a sweet smile is all I see.
“So...what do you think?” she asks and I can’t help it—must be the post orgasmic haze—I smile back.
I should’ve said no flat out. After all, we agreed it was a one time thing, but instead I rolled over to kiss her. She giggled when I did and the stupidest part of me reveled in the sound.
“Give me a minute,” I murmur against her lips before forcing myself up and out of bed.
After almost having sex with her in freshman year, I often wondered if it would have been so bad if it did happen.
In a random moment of insane curiosity, I looked up what I should’ve done if I had slept with her, which is why I grab a hand towel and run it under warm water.
Then, I get the Tylenol from the medicine cabinet and a water bottle from my backpack.
“It’s Tylenol,” I say, opening the bottle. “Just in case, you know… If, um, you’re in any kind of pain.”
She sits up. “That’s—thank you.” Her cheeks turn my favorite shade of mauve pink.
“May I?” I ask, because she’s wrapped the comforter around herself when I stepped away.
“What are you—oh.” She looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes. “Grayson, you don’t—”
“I want to,” I assure her, feeling increasingly nervous until she nods her approval.
“Okay,” she whispers and I slide the covers aside.
Carefully, I begin to wipe the inside of one thigh and then the other. We both notice the blood on the towel at the same time.
Fuck.
I stare at her. Unblinking. Silent.
I’m ashamed to admit that I freeze for a second. I’d never seen that before.
I know I didn’t hurt her after the initial entry.
She very much enjoyed what we did—if her moans and screams of pleasure were anything to go by, but that’s still blood.
Hers. Seeing the maroon red color causes a tightness in my chest and an overwhelming sense to protect her. I have no fucking clue why.
“Does it hurt?” It’s stupid to ask but I need to know.
She shakes her head, but I’m horrified to discover there are tears in her eyes threatening to fall. “I ruined your sheets,” she whispers. “I’ll replace them.”
Green eyes meet mine.
“What? No.” I hold her shoulders, her neck. “Selena, baby, please don’t cry,” I say and cup her face in my hands. “I’m not worried about the sheets.”
“But you’ve known them longer,” she replies. For a second I think she’s serious, but then she cracks a smile.
I wipe away the lone tear that falls. “You always this funny, Alvarez?” I ask, keeping my expression neutral.
“I have my moments.”
I scoff as I return to wiping our cum and her blood from between her thighs.
“You might be sore,” I murmur. It’s what all the websites said.
She places her hand on top of mine. I glance up and her gaze is waiting for me. We stare at each other and I would give anything, pay anything to know what she’s thinking.
“Thank you for...everything,” she says, her voice soft. “I should probably go.”
She turns from me and it’s freshman year again. Three and a half years ago, I let her walk out of my room. I should do the same tonight.
“You don’t have to go,” I say, surprised at myself.
Her eyes light up. “Okay,” she smiles.
Unexplainable and undeniable relief, that’s what I feel in that moment.
“Do you think I can borrow a shirt?”
“Please?” I say to annoy her.
She rolls her eyes, but laughs. “Please.”
I wake up annoyed and groggy. Need to forget her. Need to erase her touch and her taste and fuck. I spent three fucking years hating her, hating her smile, hating her goddamn pastel wardrobe and now? Now I hate myself for letting her get under my skin.
I’m done with this shit. It’s fucking pathetic. I climb out of bed, grab my keys, and drive the rest of the night.