Chapter 51
SELENA
It’s late and yet Grayson’s here so we can talk. I wasn’t sure he would stop by. But, not only did he show up, he also brought me flowers. And my favorite drink. I take a sip before placing everything on my desk.
He closes the door to my room and watches me. I’ve been around him for weeks and he still makes butterflies swirl in my stomach.
“So...the doctor cleared me,” I state. Not how are you? How was your flight? Or anything a sane person would ask.
In my defense, he’s leaning against the door. His arms crossed over his chest. And he’s looking so ridiculously good looking. Like, no one stands a chance when he’s around.
“Right,” he clears his throat. “You played a full game?”
“Only until the 77th minute, but yeah, it’s full-contact sports for me again.” It’s like my lower brain is in charge of this conversation.
His nostrils flare. “How was it? Being on the pitch again?”
“Good,” I smile, thinking back on it. “It felt really good being out there. And, hey, still no goals scored.”
One side of his mouth curls up. “Good.”
It’s one of the stats I’m most proud of. But then he pushes off the door and the last bit of reason I was holding onto decides to leave when he gives me a crooked smile.
“Yeah…good,” I mumble letting my eyes roam up his wide chest down to his lean hips, then lower to his powerful thighs to what’s between them...
He steps closer, running a hand through his hair. I’ve realized that’s his tell when he’s nervous. Knowing he’s feeling that way makes my nerves settle down a bit.
“What do you think—”
“I almost sent a—”
We both laugh a little. I’m the one who talks first.
“You almost send a...?”
His eyes search my face for an answer. The confidence I was feeling when he showed up is wavering and dwindling. I think I know what he doesn’t want to say. Maybe the tulips and coffee are a consolation prize or something. My eyes dart away with uncertainty.
After everything, I don’t want to stay quiet and accept his rejection meekly. It’s why I ask, “You almost sent a what, Grayson?”
Something crossed his expression but I don’t know what it is.
“It’s late,” he says. “And you’ve had quite a day. This might be a conversation for another time.”
I ignore that last statement because I think he means my game. Or maybe my parents.
“About that? How much do I owe you?”
He arches an eyebrow in surprise. “For?”
“For the airline tickets.” It wasn’t Sammy. He looked as shocked as I did to see Mamá and Papá here.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he replies, basically admitting it. He drags a hand through his hair, letting out a long exhale at the same time. “You said they had never seen you play, so.”
Is that why? I can’t believe he did that.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I’m biting back a smile, but my heart is twirling and dancing. “So?” I smirk.
“You’re going to make me say it?” he asks, but the tilt to his mouth tells me he’s willing to do just that. He rolls up the sleeves of the hoodie he’s wearing, obviously stalling.
“Use your words, pretty boy.”
His shit-eating grin widens, then his laughter rings out across my room. “It’s not the first time you call me that,” he chuckles and both dimples make an appearance.
A rush of warmth settles low in my belly. “Don’t change the subject, Rhodes.”
He doesn’t argue like I thought he would, instead the sound of his laughter travels between us. When he crosses his arms over his chest, I can’t help admire how his forearms or the back of his hands look. The veins running along both, the power he holds there, how gentle they are with me...
Grayson licks his bottom lip and I feel the heat rushing to my face.
Because I know what that tongue feels like, what it tastes like and it knows what I taste like too.
A shiver runs down my spine when I think about riding his handsome face.
I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe he wanted me to do that.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
Inappropriate thoughts. “Why?”
“You’re blushing.”
Busted.
“Just wondering what you’re going to say.” It’s partly true.
The blue in his eyes shifts, clear like the sky after it rains. He releases a long exhale. “I don’t do things like this,” he admits, rubbing a palm over the back of his neck.
“This?”
“This. Us. You and me.”
I nod, acknowledging his words, understanding his concerns. Because I don’t do things like this either.
“Do you want to do...things like this?” I ask and his eyes darken.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend, Selena,” he admits.
“Never?”
He shakes his head. “I knew what my life was going to look like since the moment I turned ten. There was no point getting attached to anyone or anything when I could never keep them.”
“I—”
I don’t even know what to say. That might be one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard.
A tiny, ten year old Grayson couldn’t dream about his future because it was already decided for him. He couldn’t plan the many things he wanted to accomplish because it would never be a priority to those around him. Couldn’t wish or hope or allow himself to fall...for someone. Doesn’t sound fair.
“That’s why you’re not playing baseball after you graduate?”
“And why I never got involved with anyone.”
I have so many questions, but I’m unable to ask any. My mouth is dry, my throat feels itchy. I take a sip of the iced vanilla latte he got me.
“Once I graduate, I’m supposed to work for my father,” he continues. “I...” he clears his throat. “I’m supposed to marry the daughter of whatever partner benefits his business the most.”
He says it so casually, but I feel like I’m going to be sick. Maybe pass out. I can’t explain it, but this is worse than the pain I woke up with after the concussion.
“That’s pretty messed up,” I mumble. “Archaic, too.”
He doesn’t argue.
“Don’t get attached to Gray,” Sammy said. Did he know all this?
“What happens if you don’t do any of that?”
His gaze wanders away, settling on the shelves I put up myself.
“Disowned. Disinherited.”
“Your dad wouldn’t—”
“He would,” Grayson admits with a deep sigh. “If that happens, he can dissolve The Rhodes Foundation. It was established by my mom. It’s her legacy.”
So that’s what his dad is holding over him.
“Grayson?” I wait until his eyes meet mine again. “I don’t—we haven’t—” I exhale and give him a shaky smile. “For what it’s worth, I think that you’re your mom’s legacy,” I argue. Maybe it’s futile, and maybe a little self-serving, but no company could ever be more important.
But I understand now why this won’t work, why he’s continued to keep his distance, and why this has to be goodbye.
“Thank you for the flowers. And cold drinks. And the round trip airline tickets. And for making sure I was okay.” I can feel the pressure of tears building.
“…you don’t wanna fall for Grayson Rhodes.” My brother tried to warn me.
“Please let me know how much it all costs so I can pay you back one day.”
“Selena, the money doesn’t matter.”
“Only people who have it say that,” I snap and regret it almost instantly.
The hurt that crosses his face is like a dagger in my chest. Even though I want to apologize for trying to hurt him, I don’t. He can walk away and think I’m a horrible person. Maybe he thinks that already.
That’s not how he looks at me though. Right now he’s looking at me like he wants to stay. Here. With me.
“I have a question,” I whisper because I’m not ready for him to leave yet. My hands are trembling and I shove them in the front pocket of his hoodie.
Grayson watches me with those ever-changing blue eyes of his. They never fail to strip my defenses away until I’m bare before him with no place to hide. It’s why I want to turn away, but I’ve spent so much time letting life pass me by, shrinking away, failing to go after what I want.
Something settles in my chest at the thought, rearranging things I thought I knew. That’s part of the reason why I have to say this. Otherwise, I’ll regret it. I’ll regret it every day of my life.
“What if there’s a person, hypothetically speaking,” I say, “that would be interested in being with you—in this purely hypothetical situation—until graduation…?”
My body feels so heavy, like I’m carrying a million soccer balls. I’m guessing that’s the equivalent of carrying decades of unfulfilled expectations and desires on my shoulders. I shake the image away and focus on him.
Grayson’s hands are balled up fists as he uncrosses his arms over his chest. His breaths are coming fast. His jaw is clenched so tightly, he might crack some teeth any second.
The air in my room is thick with tension. Probably all mine. Because I’m tired of being scared of what I want. I’m even more tired of not trying to go after it. Or in this situation, him.
“For the record, I’m the hypothetical person—in case it wasn’t clear,” I add, the words nearly breathless, but I say them. The smile I give him is full of hope and lust, but holds no expectations whatsoever. Honestly, I admitted that as much for him as for myself.
The seconds that pass feel like an eternity. When his mouth curves into a wolfish grin, I’m able to breathe again. My body feels lighter. So light, I might float away if he doesn’t hold on to me soon.
“You can’t possibly think this is a good idea,” Grayson states, taking a step closer.
I shrug my shoulders. “We both know what this is.” I take a step towards him too. “No strings. No pressure. Just fun. It’ll be a...a spring fling. That’s all.”
How am I coming up with this stuff?!
He takes another step. “And you’re okay with that?” He watches me intently. His eyes burn with so many unnamed emotions, making me want to burn with them.
“I am the one proposing it,” I tell him, smiling with an unexpected surge of misplaced confidence.
It’s almost like I’m having an out of body experience.
The things I’m saying? I wouldn’t normally say them, but given this is something that wouldn’t normally happen, my brain keeps thinking of rational answers and the lower one is saying the complete opposite.
I laugh, closing more of the distance between us with another step towards him.
If either of us moves again, we’ll erase all the space between us. Neither of us does it. Yet. Honestly, I’m ready to lunge myself at him. I think he’ll catch me…
“Selena.” He sounds angry, tormented.
Grayson takes the last step. His large hands cup my cheeks. My pulse accelerates.
I inhale, wanting—needing—to rise to the occasion. The last thing I’ll do is crumble under his intense gaze. I won’t succumb to the heavy weight of my inexperience. After all, he’s never been in relationship either.
“I mean,” I don’t know why I keep talking, “once we graduate, who knows what’ll happen… Maybe I’ll play soccer in Europe? Maybe you’ll marry an actual princess?”
His palms slide down my body, slipping under his hoodie. Heat and desperation seep into my skin. He makes it so easy to fall.
Grayson presses his forehead to mine, his fingers curling around my waist. That’s when he says the words that change everything.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he whispers against my lips.
My heart stutters, skipping a beat as I melt against him. The heat in his gaze emboldens me to answer.
“That’s okay, neither do I,” I smile, letting my breath mingle with his. “We can figure it out as we go. Together.”
And we will. But right now isn’t about the next few weeks, it’s about us, giving in with no rules to hold us back.
Going soft and slow, then quick and hard.
He kisses me like he’ll never be able to kiss me again.
He touches me like it’s the first and last time.
His words burn me up from the inside out and his body pleasures me for hours, with reverence and desire and things we shouldn’t name.
We fall asleep in my bed, curled around each other, and I know we’re making a mistake. But it’s too late. If I can only have a few weeks with Grayson Rhodes, I’m taking it. The inevitable pain and heartbreak sounds like a problem for future me.