Everything still looked the same. Academic awards and the dolls I never played with sat on a shelf. Photos of me and my friends were stuck between my dresser mirror and its frame, and my old jewelry box sat open on the dresser below, strands of cheap purple and green beads hanging out from a long-ago Mardi Gras party. My bed with the quilt my grandmother had made me was neatly made, as if waiting for me to dive on it and curl up for a nap. I let out a long breath and felt my shoulders sag.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I turned and grinned. “Yeah, thanks. I’m fine. It’s just really weird being in here. It’s been a long time.”
The doorbell rang. “That must be dinner,” Grayson said and waggled his eyebrows playfully. “I’ll be right back.” He walked out of my room and bounded down the stairs.
Alone for a moment, I sat on my bed and looked around. I leaned back on my pillow and looked at the ceiling, remembering doing this when I was a teenager. Many hours had been spent during my teen years, staring at the ceiling and wondering if Grayson would ever like me as more than a friend, or if he would be the one guy I would always think about. Closing my eyes, I found myself wondering the same thing, all these years later.
I felt the bed dip beside me. When I opened my eyes, it was as if my prayers had been answered and my dream had come true. I had Grayson Scott in my room and on my bed. I almost pinched myself with disbelief, but then he spoke.
“Hey, if you’re too tired to eat, I can put the food in the fridge.”
My stomach growled, and I instinctively went to cover it with my hand to mask the embarrassing sound.
Grayson chuckled and extended a hand to me. “Come on, let’s eat and then we can get back to this.”
• • •
Dinner was good, but I hurried through it, wanting to get all the packing done. I needed to get back to Pennsylvania, if for no other reason than to relieve the temptation and urges I felt when Grayson was near me.
I decided to start with my desk. Carelessly, I pulled out a drawer and the overflowing contents spilled out at Grayson’s feet. He looked down and frowned, and when I glanced at the pile I was mortified when I saw a picture of us when we were about ten years old, right on top of a bunch of other papers. I had drawn a heart around the picture and had written Mr. and Mrs. Grayson Scott on it.
Hoping he didn’t see it, I reached out to snatch it, but he beat me to it. He stared at the picture as he held it high in the air over my head so I couldn’t reach it. He looked up at it, then at me, and then started to read it out loud. “Mr. and Mrs. Gr—”
I attempted to grab it again, but he yanked it back and looked down at me as heat rose in my face.
He cleared his throat and waved the photo back and forth, teasing me. “Mr. and Mrs.?”
I tried laughing it off. “Yeah, you know, you were the stereotypical boy next door. That’s how I thought things worked. Boy meets girl, boy kisses girl, boy marries girl, and they live happily ever after.” I shrugged at the absurdity of it.
“You’re right,” he said slowly as he stared at me. “That’s how it was supposed to work.”
The utter sincerity in his voice surprised me. My breasts tingled, and I felt my core throb with a sensation I hadn’t felt in over a year as I looked up into his intense gaze. Determined not to let another man make a fool out of me, I looked away.
“Yeah, okay, Grayson,” I said sarcastically. “That’s why you took Mary to prom and then dated her rather than me.” I turned away, totally embarrassed that I had brought up ancient history like high school, but that was my last memory of him.
He grabbed my arm. “Hey, you didn’t want to date me, you told me that. Well, you told my mom that, and she told me.”
I shook my head and looked up at him in confusion. “I never talked to your mom about us . . . I mean, about you . . . me and you, whatever.” In fact, I had never told anyone how I felt about him.
“Yeah, you did.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ll never forget it. It was right before the prom. You and your dad were washing his truck in the driveway, and my mom had just come home from shopping. When she came in, I told her that I was going to go to your house to ask you to go with me to the prom. Then my mom said that she asked you about it, and you told her that you had a date and you weren’t interested in me like that.”
“What?” I shrieked. “I never talked to your mom about the prom. I didn’t even go.” I thought back, desperately trying to remember that day, considering it was over twenty years ago. I vaguely remembered his mom being in our driveway that day, but I didn’t remember talking to her and knew there was no way I would have said any of that.
Grayson leveled his gaze on me. “I know you weren’t there because I looked. I figured you and your date skipped it and went straight to the post-prom fun.” An odd look crossed his face. “Wait a minute, are you telling me that if I would have come over and asked you, that you would have said yes?”
“Of course I would have said yes.” I looked at the picture and pointed to it. “This is what I always wanted, but you didn’t.”
I knew he had never married; Aunt Trudy had told me so. But from what I’d witnessed when I pulled into my driveway today, he wasn’t a one-woman man.
He stared at me, his eyes narrowed. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Not what I wanted? That’s all I wanted. I even told my mom that one day you would get my grandmother’s ring. But she convinced me that would never happen.”
Tears pricked at my eyes at the thought of all this time, all the years I’d wasted on Jake. “Well, that was then, right?” I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could, then put the picture in a box and went to clear off my desk.
Grayson spun me around and his lips crushed mine. My head spun a little at the feel of his mouth on me, then his tongue touched my lips and I opened them for him. He tasted like the food we had just eaten, mixed with his own flavors. He took my mouth desperately, as if he were dying and I were his last chance at life, and my panties dampened.
He released me and breathlessly said, “I’ve waited forever for you. I need you, Soph. You’re the only one who ever understood me, the only one who ever cared about me.” He pulled me close and rested his forehead on my shoulder as his hands stroked my back.
I held him and freed my mind and heart. “Grayson, what do you mean, I’m the only one who cared? Your parents cared.” I knew they had divorced, but from what I remembered, they were always good to him.
He looked at me and cupped my cheeks with his hands, his expression so sad it made my heart ache. “No, they didn’t. They cared about themselves. After I graduated they split, and that was it. My mom is God knows where with her new husband, who is younger than I am, and my dad is always in his office in Asia; so no, they don’t. I bought the house from them about ten years ago and that was it. I get an occasional card from my mom and a monthly check from my dad that I never spend. I don’t need them.”
Then he dropped his hands and sat on my bed. “I can’t believe she lied to me. Why would Mom do that? She had to know I loved you.”
He loved me? I looked over at Grayson, who was so big and out of place on my twin bed. The “I loved you” comment he’d made kept bouncing around in my head, but I figured it was a slip of the tongue, so I didn’t bring it up, and changed the subject instead.
“What about baseball?” I asked. “You were going to go to college to play and wanted to be drafted. Didn’t you go?”
He let out a harsh laugh. “No, I didn’t go. My life went to shit after high school. My parents left and I lost direction. Dad said I needed to major in business and concentrate on that, not sports, so I didn’t go.”
I was so confused. How did I not know all of this? Grayson had been my closest friend. “So, what have you been doing?”
He stood and wiped his hands on his pants, unable to meet my eyes. “I, um . . . you know what? It really doesn’t matter.”
“Why don’t you want to tell me?”
As
he paced back and forth in my small bedroom, I tried to process the information he’d given me, and knew I was still missing something. “Grayson? We used to be able to talk. You were once my closest friend. I won’t judge you.”
“I need a smoke. I’m going outside.” He walked out of my room, and a few seconds later, I heard the front door close.
I picked up the picture of us and stared at it, wondering how different our lives would have been if his mom hadn’t interfered. Why in the world would she have done that? It was long past time for me to find out what the hell was going on.
When I walked downstairs and looked out the window, I found Grayson leaning against the porch rail, taking long drags on a cigarette. I opened the door, and its creak caused him to turn and look at me over his shoulder. He took one last drag, then turned and flicked his cigarette into the yard, but kept his back to me.
I stared at his back, which was rising and falling as he sucked in deep breaths. Something was definitely not right here; Grayson was so emotional all of a sudden, and that was unlike him. Easing my way up to him, I lifted my hand, then after a moment placed my hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly, as he had mine.
His head fell forward, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m not good enough for you, Soph,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “And you’re too good for me. We’re different people now. I get it.”
The more he spoke, the more I needed to know. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve done, but it doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me, and you’ve always mattered. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”
“I want to tell you, but . . .” He trailed off, and though he looked as if he might continue, instead he pressed his lips together and looked away.
I pinched the bridge of my nose because I had no idea what the hell was going on. It had been a long day and I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Over the past twelve hours I had signed divorced papers, come face-to-face with the woman who was carrying Jake’s baby, driven for five hours to return to the house I grew up in, which made me face the fact that I was closing another door in my life. And to top it all off, Grayson was being forthcoming and evasive in the same breath. I was completely spent with everything I’d been faced with today.
“Well, I need to pack,” I said, and turned and went back in the house. At this point I didn’t care if he followed or not. I had once thought I loved Grayson, and to be honest, that kiss was the best I’d ever had. I knew he felt something, too, but I was done with secrets and needed no more drama in my life.
Back in my room, my packing became rushed. I tossed things carelessly into boxes, not bothering to wrap them, and no longer allowed myself the luxury of strolling down memory lane. It could only lead to a dead end, and I had been there before.
I absentmindedly grabbed the packing tape at an awkward angle and managed to slice my finger on the jagged blade. Blood immediately poured from the wicked slit it caused. “Shit!” I put my finger in my mouth and sucked on it, then ran the bathroom to where we kept normally kept bandages, only to find there weren’t any there.
Annoyed, I grabbed a tissue and tightly wrapped it around my finger, and remembered I had a first aid kit in my trunk. I grabbed my keys and headed out. Grayson was no longer on my porch; I glanced over to see him in his driveway talking to a gorgeous redhead. It was late and getting dark, but there was no mistaking her beauty.
I stopped to look at him, and he didn’t even notice me. Shaking my head with disbelief, I chuckled bitterly to myself, then thought, Yeah, like hell you want me.
I was so done with men. Deciding I was in a huge hurry to pack and get the hell back to Pennsylvania, I popped my trunk open and grabbed the kit, then slammed the trunk lid shut. I couldn’t help myself. I glanced toward Grayson’s house, but he was still talking to the woman and never looked my way.
Hurt and more than a little pissed off, I hurried into my house and closed the door. If I could have managed a frustrated scream, I would have let one out so loud the windows would have shattered. Instead, I went into the bathroom and cleaned my cut, slapped a bandage on it, and went back to packing.
I didn’t know how much time went by, but my last bedroom box was packed and all that was left was my bedding, which I’d take care of tomorrow. Exhausted, I plopped back on my bed and stared at the now-empty pale yellow walls. The boxes were labeled and my past was all wrapped up. This had been a crappy day, so before I fell asleep in my clothes, I decided to take a shower to wash this day away and get ready for bed. Since all my packing was done, I could head out immediately after I was done with the real estate agent in the morning.
After my shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and quickly dried my hair. When I walked back to my room to get dressed, I was completely startled to see Grayson sitting on my bed, and nearly had a heart attack. My hand went to my chest.
“Jesus, Grayson! You scared me. What are you doing here?”
I looked at him and our eyes locked. He obviously wanted to say something, the need was plain in his eyes, but he didn’t. There was complete silence. I gave him about ten more seconds to speak, but nothing came out.
“Can you please leave?” I pulled the towel tighter around myself, feeling completely exposed, and said, “I need to get dressed and I want to go to bed.”
He flopped back on my bed and clasped his hands behind his head. “I’m sorry. The door was unlocked, so I helped myself. I shouldn’t have done what I did before. I feel like I led you on, and you don’t deserve that. God knows, I don’t deserve you.” He sat up and looked at me, then blurted out, “I’m a photographer.”
I tilted my head at him while still gripping my towel, unsure why this was such a big deal. “Okay . . . and why is that bad?”
He shrugged. “It isn’t really. I’ve been published, and my pictures have been featured in calendars.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m confused.” I shot him a questioning glance before I leaned over to open my suitcase and grab some clothes.
“I take adult pictures.” His gaze roamed up and down my towel-clad body as I stood there with my jaw hanging open. “You’re beautiful, Sophie,” he went on. “I’d love to shoot you someday. I’ve actually dreamed of it.”
“Wait, adult pictures? You take pornographic pictures?” Then it hit me . . . clients. “Those women in your driveway, were they models?”
Overly self-conscious now, I grabbed my clothes and headed for the bathroom, not wanting to hear his answer. Technically, he didn’t owe me an explanation.
Grayson sprang up and grabbed my arm, making me drop the clothes I held. When we both went to pick them up, we paused and looked at each other. He spoke first. “I think you’re more beautiful than the women you saw earlier.”
“You’re insane,” I said with a huff. “Those women were almost half my age.”
I wasn’t ugly; I knew that. And my body wasn’t horrible. But I wasn’t in my twenties anymore, and between being confronted by Jake’s pregnant young lover earlier today, then seeing those attractive young women with Grayson, I was painfully aware of it. I grabbed my clothes and stood up.
He stood with me and took my clothes from my hands. Unsure what Grayson’s intentions were, I grabbed the towel to be sure it still covered my breasts. Pinning me with his gaze, he tossed my clothes on the dresser and stood in front of me. My eyes grew large as his hands covered mine, then he gently pried my hands from the towel and held them.
I didn’t know what came over me; I just stood there, taking deep breaths as my heart beat faster, and the world whirled and spun, becoming smaller and smaller until it was just the two of us. No past, no future, just the two of us in this moment.
Several heartbeats passed before he took a step back and looked at me. He let go of my hands and his gaze went to the top of the towel. Slowly, he reached out and released it, and I was so stunned that I let him. The towel loosened and gave way, and his eyes followed it slipping down my body as it fell to the floor. I f
elt my nipples harden under his gaze.
“Beautiful. I knew you’d be nothing short of stunning.” He smiled and took a step toward me.
I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Maybe I had fallen asleep and was dreaming, having one of those dreams where you were hovering over a scene, but weren’t actually there. Yeah, that was what it was. I let out a breath, relaxing a little at the thought.
Then he touched me and I realized this wasn’t a dream. He brought his right hand under my left breast and caressed it. His left hand did the same on my right side; his eyes never leaving mine.
“Grayson.” I could hardly get his name past my lips. My breathing had calmed, which was surprising.
“Perfection.” His fingers roamed down my sides while his thumbs ran down my flat stomach. He stopped at my hip bones, then dropped to one knee and looked up at me. “May I?”
I nodded. I should have asked, “May you what?” but I didn’t. I hadn’t been touched in a sensual way in so long that I was worried I had dried up, but then I sensed a fullness and wetness between my thighs and felt tremendous relief that my parts weren’t dead, just dormant.
Grayson’s thumbs went to my bare folds. “You wax—I like that.” His voice was soothing and yet intense at the same time, like a talking orgasm. He pried me open and lightly blew on my clit. My eyes closed, my head tipped back, and I relished in the sensations I was feeling. He moved his hands to my thighs, then ran them up and down my legs as he caught my eye and murmured, “I want to shoot you.”
“Shoot me?”
“Will you let me?”
Shoot me? “I don’t understand.”
He stood in front of me and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Sit on the bed. Don’t move. And for God’s sake, don’t get dressed.”
Then he walked out of my room.
• • •
When Grayson returned with a black bag and what looked like a silver umbrella, I was still where he left me. I wondered where he had gone and what he was planning, but I was so turned on that I’d stayed stock-still.
Moments In Time: A Collection of Short Fiction Page 23
