Brody surprises me and pulls me in to his chest. Nothing about the embrace is intimate or sexual. Instead it radiates a brotherly type of affection, like he wants to comfort me and protect me in one breath. “Please be patient with him,” he whispers into my hair. “He cares about you more than he’s ready to admit.”
He looks down at me and offers a small smile. It’s reassuring but doesn’t ease my embarrassment. I watch as he walks back into the cafeteria before I start heading towards my apartment building across campus. My phone beeps alerting me to a text and I pull it out.
Demi: Are you ok girl? Need to chat?
I quickly type my response.
No. Need a male stripper and a lifetime supply of Tequila.
Two seconds later she replies.
I’ll be there in thirty minutes. With alcohol. I’ll be your stripper.
Her quirky response makes me laugh. But I still want to cry.
** ** ** ** ** **
“He did WHAT?” Demi shrieks. She’s sitting on my couch with her feet tucked under her butt and some fruity alcoholic beverage in her hand. Her eyes are completely popped out of their sockets as she stares me down.
“He kissed me,” I say again, failing miserably to hide the blush that skims across my face and settles on my cheeks. I’ve spent the last hour telling her about everything that happened at my Uncle Alex and Aunt Emma’s house last night. I knew Grayson and his parents would be there. However, judging by the look on Graysons’ face when he opened the door, he was more than surprised to see me.
Demi shakes her head, her wild brown curls bouncing with the movement. “Are you kiddin’ me? He kissed you?” She looks at me incredulously and I nod. She sounds as surprised as I felt. I think back to the moment our lips touched, the moment I felt like it was game over. When he walked away I knew I would never be the same again. All because of a stupid kiss.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter now,” I add quietly, trying to disguise my disappointment.
“Why the hell not?”
“You saw what happened in the cafeteria Demi. What else am I supposed to think?” I don’t mention the conversation with Brody. Demi hates talking about him.
“Are you talking about that Rebecca bitch?”
I nod but I don’t look up. I’m afraid of what will Demi will see if I look at her. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions.
“You have it all wrong baby girl,” she takes a sip of her fruity alcoholic beverage and then continues. “Psycho Barbie all but mauled Grayson while we were sitting at the table having lunch. He didn’t stand a chance when she pounced on him and started sucking his face.” She shivers at the recollection and the sight makes me want to giggle.
“Anyway,” she resumes, taking another sip of her beverage, “What was it like?”
I frown. “What was what like?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “The kiss dummy!”
Oh.
I was hoping she wouldn’t ask me. There no words captivating enough to describe how it felt the moment Graysons’ lips touched mine. Time stood still for what I thought could’ve been an eternity and if the Earth set fire and exploded, I wouldn’t have noticed.
“It was, um,” I pause, searching the entirety of my English vocabulary for one word suitable enough to describe the most explosive moment to ever collide with both my body and my mind. “It was indescribable.”
I look down at my tangled fingers and feel the heat crawl over my neck and face again. I have revealed more to Demi than I have to anyone else. Ever. But the feeling is oddly liberating, being able to say how I feel without reservation. She doesn’t judge me.
“It’s ok to admit that you like him,” she says. “Grayson just needs a little time to pull his head out of his ass.” She smiles at me and I return it. Maybe Brody wasn’t talking complete rubbish after all. But this only leaves me even more confused. Before talking to Demi I was determined to have nothing to do with Grayson or his games. I hate to admit that the prospect of doing just that is far less appealing.
“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” I say, desperate to change the subject.
“Shoot.”
“I was wondering,” I hesitate, almost second guessing my decision.
“Well spit it out girl, I don’t like waiting.”
“I wanted to know if you’d like to move in with me.”
Demi looks at me surprised. “Are you serious?”
I nod and the grin that spreads across her face confirms that I’ve made the right decision. I’ve been thinking about it for a week, bouncing the idea back and forth in my head, weighing the pros and cons like it’s a life changing decision. In many ways it is, but it also feels like a necessary step, almost like I’m following one of those ‘twelve step’ programs and this is essential to my recovery. I don’t want to live in a box for the rest of my life. I want to take chances. Trust people.
Demi squeals and jumps to hug me, knocking us over. We both laugh hysterically, resulting in tears and aching bellies. It’s refreshing.
The rest of the evening continues this way. We talk about when Demi will move in and go back to talking about Grayson and Brody.
It’s normal and I start looking forward to what will be my new normal, even if my situation with Grayson is nothing more than a grey area.
Chapter 8
~ Huntley ~
My feet hit the sidewalk and start running to the steady beat of the music pulsating through my iPods’ earphones. My heartbeat joins in and thumps along, my whole body moving in perfect concord. My mind switches off, only focusing on keeping my body moving, my lungs breathing and my heart beating smoothly.
Classes are over for the day but a few students make their way in and out of the library, coffee and energy drinks in hand. For six pm there is quite a bit of activity. I run past the coffee shop, inhaling the rich aroma’s, and head past the lecture halls towards the sports fields. As I increase my steady pace, the warm, damp air hits my face and I pull my jacket a little tighter. I try to think only about the feel of it on my skin and the feel of the ground beneath my feet but some thoughts still creep in.
Reaching the athletics track, I notice a few of the football players are on the field but I force myself to look away. I don’t want to know if Grayson is there, even though he probably is. He’s been acting weird lately and it shouldn’t bother me but it does. He’s avoiding me and I can’t figure out why. I should be avoiding him after what happened in the cafeteria the other day. Maybe I’m overthinking it? Or maybe he just doesn’t care.
Well that’s fine by me. Staying away from Grayson Carter seems like a pretty smart thing to do anyway. He’s making that part easier for me.
Turning up the volume on my iPod, I hit the track, picking up a new rhythm. Titanium by David Guetta blasts through my earphones and I find myself being encouraged by the thrum of the beat and the meaningful lyrics. I push harder and harder until my arms and legs are warm, a light sheen of sweat trickling down my back. I feel good. Strong.
After running a few laps I slow my pace and allow the burn in my limbs and my lungs to ease. I’m alone, the guys no longer practicing their plays on the field. My uncle doesn’t usually stay this late but since the guys were out here practicing it wouldn’t hurt to stop by and see if he’s still in his office. A few of the guys leave the locker room and once I know it’s empty I let myself in.
“Huntley?” I look up and almost trip. Grayson is standing in front of me. In nothing but a towel. Oh God. His chest is wet, the water droplets sliding down between his abdominal muscles. He has that v muscle that girls go crazy for and I can see why. It leads straight to his… I shake my head. No need to be thinking about that.
“I …um…I….shit…sorry.” I slap my hand over my eyes. My brain has stopped functioning. I can’t even string a coherent sentence together.
“If you’re looking for Coach you’re a little late.”
“Yeah, I’ll..uh..just come back to
see him tomorrow.” I keep my eyes closed and take a step back only to hit the wall. I need to leave but that means opening my eyes. I would rather fumble my way out of here than open my eyes and look at Grayson’s wet, naked chest. As long as he stays where he is, this won’t be a problem. I can leave and he can carry on doing whatever he was doing. Good plan.
I move to the left along the wall, stopping abruptly when I feel an arm next to my face. I can smell him, feel him, standing in front of me. He smells like mint and soap and fresh apple pie.
Breathe I tell myself. Just breathe.
“Open your eyes Huntley,” Grayson whispers. His warm breath caresses my throat.
“No.” My voice comes out all breathy and I curse myself for not sounding more confident. C’mon, pull it together girl…
“Please,” he pleads softly. “I want you to look at me.”
He trails his nose down my throat and back up, stopping at the soft piece of skin right under my earlobe. My breaths are coming in short erratic gasps and I can’t stop the involuntary shiver that travels down my spine and into the core of my stomach. I want him. Right now.
“Huntley,” he says again, growling softly. It’s a demand. One I wish I could ignore. My eyes flutter open and I look up into crystal pools of green, with wet hair hanging just above arched brows. Grayson’s arms are next to my face, caging me in. He towers over me with his tall frame and his proximity should scare me. But it doesn’t. His arms are well-built, his muscles tense under his skin. I ache to reach out and touch the beautiful man staring so intently at me but I keep my hands firmly at my sides. With great difficulty.
“Grayson,” I whisper. Now I’m the one pleading. He’s too close and he smells so good. This is bad. Very, very bad.
“Take a look, I know you want to.” His lips move but I hardly hear what he’s saying. I’m too focused on not kissing him when his lips are so close. I wonder idly if they taste better a second time, if they feel different and what I would do if they grazed every part of my overexcited body.
“What?” I force myself to drag my attention away from his mouth.
He chuckles and I watch his chest move with the sound. “I said,” his voice is still a breathy whisper, “You can look. I know you want to.”
I swallow. Hard.
Of course he’s right. I want to look.
So I do.
His lips are parted, his breathing coming out in short wisps like mine. His chin is covered in light stubble and I have the sudden urge to lick it. The skin on his neck is smooth, still coated in droplets of water that skate over the light freckles on his shoulders. I know his shoulders are broad but I didn’t see how broad until now. My scrutiny stops at his pecs and I spot the little silver bar sticking out of his nipple. Fuuuuck. That’s so sexy. I bite my tongue to prevent myself from pulling it into my mouth. His hand slips under my shirt and rests on my hip. His thumb traces lazy circles on my hip bone and my skin blazes from the fervor of that small stroke. Oh.My.God. He’s teasing me, tempting me. I rest my hands on his chest and gently graze my index fingers over his nipples. It makes me smile when I feel him shiver. He isn’t as unaffected as he’d have me think. I look back up and he’s staring at me, trying to see right into my soul. It’s unnerving, like the feel of his racing heartbeat under my palm. I like that it’s racing because of me.
He moves his leg and pushes it up between the apex of my thighs. I bite my lip but it doesn’t stop a moan from escaping my mouth. He has me so tightly strung I’m afraid one more slight brush of his leg will set me off. “Do you know how crazy you make me?” he asks huskily, his eyes never leaving mine. I nod and he gives me his lopsided grin. Oh crisis, I want to kiss him so badly.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” I ask. I need to know. We can’t keep tip-toeing around each other like this. “Because this is a bad idea. You’re going to break me and I’m already damaged. I’m just not sure how much longer I can stay away from you.” His answer surprises me. I take a step forward, his bare chest only a sliver of space away from mine.
“Then why don’t you stop trying?” I whisper, so close to his face that if he stuck out his tongue to lick his lips it would brush mine in the process.
Something flitters across his face and I can almost see him withdrawing from me. He’s getting ready to make an escape. The electrical current surging between us a second ago is replaced by tension. “Huntley…I…” He pushes away from the wall and lets out a huff. The loss of contact feels like a kick to the stomach, knocking the wind right out of my lungs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have –“
“Save it.” I put my palm up effectively halting whatever bullshit excuse he wants to feed me. My voice is hard and detached. The intensity of my reaction to him lingers but is eclipsed by my sudden anger and humiliation. I don’t know why I’m surprised though. He’s Whitley University’s very own playboy and I was all too willing to give in and surrender to him. I was foolish to think this was more than a silly game. God I feel weak. I took a risk and let my guard down, opening up more than I have to anyone in months. This is the second time he’s played me.
I take a deep, calming breath, willing the tears to wait until he can’t see me. I don’t want him to see my cry. He doesn’t deserve to. My feet move towards the door but his hand wraps around my arm and I waver. “Huntley wait, I need to explain.” Dammit, why does he have to sound so disheartened? It’s not like this is hurting him. But it’s hurting me.
“No need. I get it.” I choke out. I pry my arm free of his grip and walk out, breaking into a sprint as soon as the door closes behind me. I don’t stop until it’s my apartment door closing behind me.
** ** ** ** **
After a scorching shower, the tension in my body is somewhat dissipated but my emotions are still erratic. I’ve been here for almost three months and while I love it, I still have bad days. Some days I wake up happy, ready to face whatever comes my way and other days I struggle to make it through. I miss my mom. I miss her comforting hugs and right now I miss her advice. My feelings for Grayson frighten me and I have no clue how to deal with them. Or him. I’ve never felt such a conflicting desire for anyone before. I am irrevocably drawn to him, like a magnet, but I also have the inclination to run from him. I need to talk to someone. Maybe Demi? I feel like I can trust her which is another feeling I’m unfamiliar with.
I drop onto my couch, overcome with exhaustion, just as my phone starts ringing. It reads unknown number and I frown. I got a new number after my mom died and only a few people have it, all of which are here in Breckinridge. I made sure no one from my past had it before I left. I answer it with caution.
“Hello?”
I hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end but nothing else.
“Hello?” I ask again, doing nothing to hide my irritation.
“You answered,” the voice says. I know the voice is female but that’s where the recognition ends.
“Who is this?”
There’s a few seconds of silence. I think the call has been disconnected but then the voice says “It’s…It’s… Taylor.”
My heart stops and it’s as if the floor has fallen out from under me. The last person I ever wanted contact with again is my ex best friend from back home. She earned that title when I walked in on her having sex with my boyfriend.
I swallow the bile that starts making its way into my mouth and fight back my anger.
“How did you get my number?”
She hesitates before answering, “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters! Why did you call me?” I ask harshly.
“Am I not allowed to know how you are? Or where you are?” She sounds hurt but I don’t care.
“No! You lost that privilege when you decided to screw Jake!” I snap.
“Huntley I’m –“ I cut her off. Her apology won’t mean anything.
“Cut the shit Taylor, why did you call me?”
“I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else
,” she half whispers. My skin prickles and my body stiffens. I can feel the bile rising in my throat again.
When I don’t reply she continues, “I’m…I’m…pregnant,” she pauses, “And it’s Jake’s.”
My heart drops to the floor and it feels like it breaks every rib on the way down. I want to vomit. My body starts trembling and an audible sob escapes before I can stop it. I can’t believe it. She told me they stopped seeing each other after I caught them, not that it mattered to me. I was done with both of them the minute I walked into his bedroom.
I gather the bit of strength I have left, gripping my phone until I can feel the plastic cover cutting into my skin. “Don’t. Ever. Call. Me. Again. You. Whore!” I shriek.
“Huntley wait –“
“No!! Fuck you Taylor!! I hate you!! And Jake!!” I manage to yell through my sobs. I hear her jagged inhalation but don’t give her the chance to say anything more. “And Taylor, be careful he doesn’t push you down the stairs!!”
I end the call and collapse onto my carpet, my throat painfully raw from shouting. I feel broken all over again, like I’ve just walked in on them. The betrayal and pain comes flooding back, a relentless onslaught of memories I desperately wanted to forget. Taylor would no doubt be confused by my warning; she didn’t know what Jake was really capable of and I didn’t care to tell her. I would keep those dark secrets to myself.
Before I can think twice I call Demi. When she answers I sob hysterically, my words coming out in rushed, incoherent mumbles. I hear her say she’s on her way and disconnect. Somehow I manage to drag myself to my room, but crumple just short of the bed. I curl into a ball as sobs rattle my body and succumb to the pain and the inevitable darkness.
I pray that someone will make it stop, take it away. I can’t go through this again.
It hurts too damn much.
Chapter 9
~ Grayson ~
“What is with you tonight bro? Did someone piss in your beer?” I roll my eyes at Brody. He definitely doesn’t have any tact. We sit at the bar, watching Nicky’s fill up with students like it does every Thursday night. Drinks are on special and it’s open mic night, a disastrous combination if you ask me. It makes people brave, and stupid, enough to venture on stage in their drunken stupor and belt out a really bad rendition of some clichéd country song. Normally I would laugh at them, remembering how badly behaved Brody and I were in freshman year, but tonight I’m not in the mood.
Beneath Your Beautiful Page 6
