Lyra gives me the signal I’ve been dreading all night, balling up a napkin and throwing it on her plate. Our chairs scraping against the wooden floor simultaneously, causes conversation to cease.
“Where you guys going?” Gray asks with a furrowed brow.
“Sloane and me are going to call a guy from class. She has to set up their date later this week, and I’m going to help her,” she decrees.
Of all the damn reasons she could choose, it has to be that one. I look wide-eyed over at Gray, and I actually think a sliver of hurt ghosts over his face as she says it, but his expression goes slack so quickly afterwards that it’s hard for me to tell.
“Miles?” he asks, looking directly at me for an answer.
“I.. well.. yeah,” I stutter, as if I’m being cross-examined in a courtroom.
“Oh,” Miss Laurent squeals in delight, “Miles! He’s such a great guy. Best choice you could have out of anyone,” she commends in a congratulatory tone.
“Can you believe he walked right up to Sloane yesterday, in the middle of breakfast with my brother, to ask her out?” Lyra asks Miss Laurent. “Soooo romantic,” she concludes. Grace gushes in agreement, and I’m thankful that they are so caught up in this idea of romanticism that they miss the daggers Gray is shooting me, and the pleading look I’m giving him in return.
“So, Gray, Miss Laurent was dropped off here due to her car being in the shop ‘til Monday or Tuesday. I promised one of us would give her a ride home, but, now something’s popped up and I won’t be able to do it. I need you to,” she informs him, and for once, he looks unsurprised as if this was exactly what he had suspected from the get-go.
“Oh, you know what,” she proposes as if the idea has only just now sprung up in her head, “ you ought to drop by the bar and have yourselves a drink… catch up on old times. Enjoy yourselves. She’s not had a break from teaching since she’s come back to town, and honestly, you need one. You’ve been really tense, and extra-grumpy lately. Tootles,” she waves, pulling me out of the room, but not in time to miss Gray’s response.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll do just that. Don’t wait up on me,” he agrees darkly, like a man who’s made up his mind.
I want to yell at him, and say “The hell you are.” What right do I have though? He’s not mine. Never was. Never will be. He’s probably been her’s all along, with their shared history, and best friend status. Friends to lovers, so sweet it makes me sneer. Just because I spent the night in his bed, doesn’t mean shit apparently.
We run out to the back porch, and there, I’m pressured into calling Miles and setting up our date. Pretending to be even mildly interested proves to be a great task but he sounds enthusiastic nonetheless. It takes everything in me to fight the prick of tears burning behind my eyes when the front door slams shut, followed by the peals of laughter floating to the back of the house where I’m seated. Moments later the Jeep’s engine revs up, then kicks up gravel as it speeds off the property.
I woke up this morning with a sense of gratification, as if everything had finally worked out in my favor. As if everything were finally righted in the world. I forgot about the real-life monsters who’ve been stalking me for years, which has happened, never. I felt hopeful of my future. Now, 12 hours later, everything has been shot to shit, and I have absolutely no clue how to fix it.
XoXo
Gray
The front door slams, despite my attempt to be quiet. That’s how infuriated I am. Lyra has been gunning for Grace and I to be a couple, for years, and thought it would be okay to place me in an extremely uncomfortable, and extremely unappreciated situation. I was caught walking the thin line of not hurting anyone’s feelings, not giving Grace the wrong idea, and not allowing Sloane to think I wanted to be with Grace. I still care about her. I’ll even still acknowledge that she was my childhood best friend, but when I opened that door, and knew her and Sloane were now under the same roof, my body grew more tense than it’s ever been. While I wanted to be cordial and amicable to my old friend, I sure as hell didn’t want Sloane to think I was interested in Grace.
Then, it became clear that Sloane knew about the whole set-up. What’s worse, she didn’t warn me and she choose to go along with the planning of it. Is everything just a game to her? Does she have no feelings toward me whatsoever? Guess not, because she chose to leave us alone so she could go call that little punk-ass boy, Miles.
That gutted me. I risked so much by giving in to her. Finally succumbing to her persuasively seductive ways. Well, fuck that. I wouldn’t be succumbing ever again. I groan aloud, as that phrase plays out in my head. Sounds a lot like I won’t be ‘coming’ ever again. Ha! The fucking irony right now.
I have a bone to pick with my sister, AND with Sloane.
“Lyra!” I shout out, my voice echoing throughout the house. Dad’s not here this weekend. He’s taking an extended stay for the next month in a rehabilitation facility to help with the slow healing of his injuries so I have no qualms in letting my anger be known. “Lyra get the fuck down here now! And bring Sloane!”
A movement from the corner of my eye, grabs my attention. I turn to find my sister peering timidly around the corner of the hallway at me, like she’s just been caught doing something very bad. To me, she has.
“You,” I seethe, pointing directly at her. “You think it’s fun and games to play with people’s lives? Grace and I were friends growing up. That’s it! We are never going to be a couple! You are the reason she believes there’s a chance we could be,” I roar, leaving out all the pieces of the puzzle in regards to what happened between us all those years ago. I’m over it now, but I still try not to think about it.
Tonight, my sister has stirred up a plethora of old, forgotten shit. Being so fucked in the head over everything, I actually pulled up with Grace outside the bar. I was actually going to go in there, and flirt with her, just to distract myself from thinking about Miles and Sloane together.
Grace was already making it known she was interested, telling me how different I looked from the last time she saw me six years prior, how I was so damn sexy now. Her words, not mine. Funny, she didn’t think that when I fancied myself in love with her. Funny how she hightailed it out of my life faster than I could even say the four-letter word. I merely suggested my feelings may have evolved, never even made any declarations. Not only did she reject me, she cut off our friendship in a time when I was clearly confused, distraught, and needing love. Maybe I confused the types of love, but fuck, I needed my friend and she abandoned me!
I realized right about the time she said we should skip the bar, and how I should just stay over at her place, that I was giving the wrong idea. No way in Hell was I going to sleep with her after Sloane, even if the sting of her betrayal was still fresh. I gave her a taste of the rejection she’d once given me, and needless to say, the outcome wasn’t a very good one. I got a nice slap to the face right before she slammed my door and walked up the steps to her home. I also noted that her car that was supposed to be in the shop, was right out front. I feel pretty shitty, and I can’t say I didn’t deserve it. After all, I did lead her to believe I wasn’t opposed to the advances she was making. They were just about six years too late.
Lyra gulps, keeping half of herself hidden behind the doorframe. I never, and I mean NEVER yell at her. Raise my voice, chew her out, sure. Yell, no. I shake my head, and try to take deep breaths to calm myself.
“Where is Sloane?” I bite out.
“She said she was nauseous right after you left, then she walked home. I told her I’d get you to give her a ride when you got back, or that she could just crash her anyways. She said she didn’t want to risk passing it back to me again,” Lyra replies very timidly.
“I need some space right now, might go out to the barn. Might go over to Ryder’s, have a few beers. I’ll be back later. Lock up behind me and keep your phone on,” I order. She says nothing, but nods to let me know she understands what I’m telling her. I turn to go out the d
oor, and then pause. “And Lyra,” I say, “don’t ever meddle in my love-life again. You’re a terrible matchmaker,” I attempt to tease her, letting her know I’ll forgive her in a day or two. I head back out to the jeep, but I don’t go to my buddy Ryder’s. I go straight to Sloane.
I pull up outside her house, and I’m encouraged to note that the lights are still on. She and I have some shit that needs to be said and things that need to be settled. The cool, night air does nothing to quell my emotions, which are running hot.
I waste no time getting to the front door, and banging on it ceaselessly until it cracks open. Her beauty is like a sucker-punch to the gut, but what’s worse, is the fact that she looks like she’s been crying. My anger and frustration ebbs a bit, being replaced with concern. She doesn’t appear happy I’m here. Not in the least. And, she won’t even make eye contact with me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, because despite all this going on, the thought of her being upset kills me. I’d change whatever needed to be changed just to see her smile. But how does she answer?
She throws her head back and laughs. It’s an ugly and hollow sound, like that of a Disney villain. Not at all like her real laugh. I would know, seeing as how it’s permanently etched in my memory.
“I’m perfect Gray. Go back to your Gray and Grace date,” she replies, and her words are barbs to my soul.
“That didn’t happen,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes, and glances away for a second before turning back to face me head on. Her eyes become slits..
“It should have,” she counters, and it makes me so damn angry. How do you give someone your virginity, and then push them toward someone else the first chance you get?
“Maybe it will then, the same night you go out with Miles. Maybe we could even do a double date. Yeah, I think that’s a great idea,” I say with venom in my voice.
She laughs again, goading me.
“One big happy, merry crew. I like the way you think, Gray. I’ll let Miles know you guys are on for Thursday night too. I’ll even text you the time and place,” she remarks, as her face goes devoid of all emotion. She starts to shut the door, but I stick my boot in the crack just in time to stop it.
“Why were you crying when I got here, Sloane?” I ridicule her, although, deep down I need to know her answer.
“I just don’t feel good. That’s all,” her voices loses some of its acidity for a few moments but then she snidely adds, “I’m also damn sore from my experiences last night,” as she puts her walls back up. “At least now I don’t have to scared about losing my virginity, and I can fuck whoever I want.”
That’s it. I’m fucking seething. My tone transforms to a growl so low, I’m beyond the boundary of her personal space just so she can absorb my words. Her eyes widen at my simmering anger.
“You go ahead and do that. You’ll find that no one values your time and your body more than I do. For the record, I didn’t want Grace. I. Wanted. You. And you wanted Miles without having to go through the discomfort of losing your virginity, or something. Maybe you don’t trust him to know what he’s doing. I don’t understand your motives, so I can’t be sure.”
She stares up at me, a pained expression on her face, but still… nothing. The fact that I put myself out there, risked my already dwindling reputation on a girl that was barely legal, risked my scarcely mended relationship with my little sister, all to be rejected… I’ll never fucking do that again. Ever. Turning away from her, I march right back down the steps of the porch, and toward my Wrangler.
“Gray, wait,” she cries out. It’s too late. I don’t want to be rejected anymore. She played me like a fool tonight. Seducing me yesterday only to turn around and attempt to set me up with someone else today. I don’t need her apologies, or her excuses. I get in my car, and I drive home.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Valley
It’s been weeks of Gray and I refusing to speak to one another, other than to interact over our joint-puppying predicament. History has been erased, as if my birthday and all that occurred during that weekend, never happened. Menial conversations, the responses between us short, and not at all sweet. What’s even worse? I’ve lost him as a friend. These past weeks have been pure agony for me, but I’ve tried my best to distract myself, stooping to whatever means necessary.
Miles and I are kind of dating on the regular. I say kind of, because my spirit isn’t in it at all and we’re more like friends who go on dates. He reaches out to hold my hand quite frequently, but is smart enough not to go in for the kiss. For that, I’m thankful.
It’s Christmas Eve, and once again, I’ve been promptly deposited at the Knightley residence due to my Mother needing to meet with Uncle Jameson. Other than it worrying me a little that they’ve met up twice in close succession, I don’t really mind so much. Despite Gray’s frosty disposition, I still enjoy spending time at the Knightley’s home. Also, Christmas at the Knightley’s is an extravagant affair. I got to help Lyra with decorating the house this month, and I even have presents under their tree.
After joking about Santa Clause, we decided that we would, indeed, leave him some cookies, despite knowing there would be no one to eat them. All in the Christmas spirit, right?
Now, she’s snoring softly beside me. Thank God the poor gal doesn’t do it on the regular. She’s just now getting over a cold. Still, I can’t sleep. Partially because of the snoring, and partially because my mind is churning.
I get up from bed, careful not to wake her, then tip-toe downstairs to fetch something to drink from the fridge. Maybe I’ll even go so far as to make some Chamomile tea. Yeah, that’d be more applicable to my situation. I’m desperate for some sleep, and I’ve been so anxious lately, it’s only found me for a few hours at a time.
Being so at home here now, I have no problem finding the tea-kettle and making my tea in record time. I hop up onto the counter next to the stove, and wrap my fingers around the mug, thankful for the warmth it creates. Even though the heat is cranked up high, I’ve always been cold-natured. Minutes later, the chamomile’s calming effects begin kicking in, and I’m lost in thought, but this time, following a much more peaceful thought-pattern.
The sound of the sliding glass door opening startles me. When I jump in response, hot tea sloshes out all over the front of my thin nightshirt.
“Shit!” I yelp in pain as the liquid burns my skin. Not thinking about much else, I yank the drenched nightshirt over my head, desperate to keep the material from searing my skin a moment longer. As soon as it’s over my head, a stack of paper-towels are thrust in front of me.
“You okay?” Gray’s velvety, concerned voice causes me to pause what I’m doing, and I whip my head in his direction. Suddenly, I’m achingly aware that I’m sitting on the countertop of his kitchen, in just my strappy black sports bra. Thankfully, the one with crisscross straps in the front that really accentuates my cleavage. He walks over to the sink and sits an over-sized beer mug underneath some running water for a few moments, then turns back around.
I wrap my arms around them so I can shield myself from his eyes, which are trailing up and down my chest and midriff, searing my skin in such a way that makes the tea mishap seem like a cold shower. He doesn’t miss the movement, and I watch the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s just about to smile, but thinks better of it.
“Not like I haven’t seen or touched the goodies before,” his husky voice declares. I draw in a ragged breath, trying to regain a sliver of composure.
“Oh, I’m surprised you remembered that. It’s so long ago, I hardly do,” I reply. Yes, I’m still confused over what happened, and I’m still bitter as hell.
His eyes turn into slits, and he closes the distance between us, stopping only once he’s standing between my thighs. For once, we’re actually on the same level and his darkened eyes bear down into my own.
“Do you need remindin’?” he asks, as his large man-paws settle at my waist, so large, in fact, that his fingers easily meet in the
middle. He starts tracing light circles on my sides, and it almost tickles, but is more comforting than anything.
My sex clenches in response, even though I know he’s teasing me. Drawing me in, just to cut me off once he gets me excited. Hopelessly, I like the chase, even if it does end in a crash and burn. I surprise him by wrapping my legs around him, and then hooking my feet together tightly.
“Maybe I do want you to remind me,” I purr. He grins, but it’s not the appreciative or playful one I used to get from him. This one is sinfully evil. Cold, pure and simple.
“What about your boyfriend?” he asks.
“Miles?” I reply sweetly, batting my eyelashes in a fashion that I can only hope is enticing. “He’s not my boyfriend, although, we do go on dates. It’s mostly just a way to enjoy ourselves, and have someone to hang out with at school functions and such. We’ve never even kissed,” I admit. Gray studies me for a minute, eyebrows pinched, before he tries to pull away.
“Right,” he scoffs. I dig my heels in, not letting him free. I’m tired of all this. I can’t do it anymore. I grab his face, roughly turning it to face me, giving him no choice in the matter.
“I mean that. He’s fun and all, but he’s not you. You were my friend, before everything else happened. He can’t replace you, and he’s a lackluster standin at that, but I feel like you abandoned me… You have no idea what that’s like, losing someone you’re close to, whose friendship you value.” Something like regret flickers across his face at my words, but I don’t stop. “I value it as much as the one I have with your sister. And if you actually think I could take him as an honest-to-God boyfriend after the night of my Birthday, then you should know how very wrong you are. He’s nothing compared to you,” I say earnestly, looking into his eyes, needing him to recognize the truth in my words like there’s no tomorrow, no chance to say them again.
Love on the Run Page 24
