Damaged Goods

by J. C. Hannigan

  “Like what?”

  “Like ask you if Alicia really is a lesbian, because that’s hot,” Grayson said, trying to repress a grin. I punched him gently in the arm and he laughed.

  “Seriously, don’t be gross,” I told him, my eyes narrowing at the slight twinge of jealousy I felt over his joking manner. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was something he enjoyed.

  “No, Everly. That’s not what I get my rocks off to, although it’d be hot if you were involved,” Grayson told me. “But you could do pretty much anything and it would be hot,” he added thoughtfully.

  I gaped at him, unable to reply to that statement. He laughed at the expression on my face and started inching the truck forward, following the line of vehicles.

  The buses had finally left the parking lot, freeing up the driveway so the students who drove could leave. The long lineup of idling cars started to move forward. I felt restless, so I shifted in my seat. My hand bumped against the Halo that I had all but forgotten in Grayson’s truck. Seeing it did nothing to ease my restlessness.

  Thankfully, he didn’t live far away. We thundered up the front steps to his loft, rushing against the cold rain and the desire to be alone. Grayson even held my hand, almost tugging me up the slippery steps.

  He closed the door against the rush of cold wind and rain, locking it behind him. I struggled out of my wet boots, trying to keep the majority of the water and mud from the clean floors.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he told me, tossing his own boots aside as his eyes hungrily swept over my body. Before I could draw in a breath, Grayson was cupping my face in the palm of his hands, bringing our lips together for a smouldering kiss that nearly made me melt into a puddle of goop on his kitchen floor.

  I kissed him back with fervent intensity, running my hands through his damp hair and tugging just a little bit. He groaned, inching me backwards. Sensing the bed was further away than he wanted, Grayson picked me up effortlessly and dropped me onto the soft sofa.

  A puff of air escaped my lips as I bounced against the cushion. I grabbed Grayson by the collar, dragging him down on top of me.

  I closed my eyes against the feel of his lips on my neck, enjoying how intimate he allowed himself to be with me. The stoic, bored exterior was completely gone. Grayson was impassioned, his body speaking in ways he couldn’t. He showered kisses across the nape of my neck, setting my skin on fire with his touch. I was already ready to combust, and we hadn’t even started the fun stuff yet.

  We didn’t end up making it to the bed.

  Chapter Eleven

  GRAYSON WAS AGGRAVATED. I could tell from the grim look on his face, and the way he gripped tightly to his steering wheel as he drove to Marcus’s house. By the time we pulled up to the curb, his knuckles were white.

  Silence encompassed us as he shut off the engine.

  “Are you mad?” I asked, my eyes flitting up to Marcus’s house. I knew the guys would be in the garage, waiting for me.

  Grayson ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He avoided looking at me. “I’m not mad, Everly. I just don’t like the guy.”

  “Who, Kyle?” I asked, resisting the urge to cross my arms in defiance. “We’re just friends, Grayson.”

  “I know.” He ran his thumb and forefinger agitatedly against his jaw and exhaled deeply before he chanced looking at me.

  “Why don’t you stick around?” I asked. “You can see for yourself that nothing’s going on.”

  “I know there’s nothing going on.” Grayson’s voice was indifferent, but his posture and his eyes gave away his true feelings. “Besides, I’d be a distraction to you,” he added, smirking.

  “That’s true,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck and gently guiding his lips to mine. I kissed him leisurely, like we had all the time in the world. I could get lost in his lips, and I loved that.

  Grayson’s hand crept up my inner thigh, and he squeezed gently before he broke our kiss. “You’d better get going, before they come outside and find you with your knees above your head,” he threatened, the smile returning to his lips. He hesitated for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, letting my hands fall away from his neck. I slipped out of the cab and into the dark, cold evening. The rain had finally stopped, and the temperature was beginning to fall. I wanted to ask Grayson to text me when he got home, but I also didn’t want to sound clingy. I wrapped my arms around my chest and watched as he drove off before I turned around and walked up to Marcus’s garage. I tapped against the door and it opened up a moment later.

  “‘Bout time you showed up.” Kyle held the garage door up for me to climb under.

  Marcus was standing in front of a small table loaded down with recording equipment. Everything appeared to be hooked up, and he was giving Aubrey instructions on what buttons to push. Aubrey was listening with rapt attention, absorbing every word.

  I shrugged out of my coat, thankful for the warmth from the heater that Marcus set up for us. I purposely avoided acknowledging Kyle’s remarks.

  Cam was tuning his bass guitar; he looked up at me and I smiled. “Hey, Everly!” He grinned, tossing his head back to get the hair out of his eyes. “I was wondering something…do you think Alicia would say yes if I asked her to semi-formal?”

  Aubrey’s head perked up at Cam’s hopeful question.

  “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. You’d have to ask her,” I answered, suppressing a smile. I knew that Alicia wasn’t interested in Cam like that, but maybe she’d appreciate having him as a date.

  “Alright, are we ready!” Marcus interrupted, clapping his hands together once as he grinned at us.

  * * *

  We didn’t finish recording until nearly 11 p.m., and that was only one song. When Marcus finally set his drumsticks down, the rest of us let out a relieved moan.

  “Oh come on, guys! I wasn’t that bad!” Marcus argued, frowning. Aubrey approached him warily, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

  “You were that bad, and more,” she argued with a smile, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Sorry,” Marcus said, looking sheepishly from Kyle, Cam and me. “But the good news is it’s done! That song will definitely get us signed.”

  “It better.” Kyle grinned.

  “We just need to get together to practice before Thursday,” Marcus started, seeing the matching less-than-thrilled expressions that Cam, Kyle and I all wore. He grinned. “Kidding! We’ve got this.”

  “Thank God,” I muttered, trying not to meet Cam’s amused eyes.

  “Right, but now we’ve really got to get home because my curfew is like…oh, five minutes ago,” Aubrey stated, arching her brows at Marcus as if she blamed him.

  “Sorry, get Kyle to drop you off. He drives fast and erratically,” Marcus said, kissing her goodbye.

  “Do you want a ride, too?” Kyle asked as he glanced at me. I begrudgingly accepted his offer, knowing that I would get home sooner if I did. I was exhausted and just wanted to close my eyes.

  Kyle dropped Aubrey off first, then drove to my house. He waited in his car until I opened the front door and walked inside. I closed the door to the sound of his engine revving as he sped off.

  “You’re getting home late,” Dad called softly from the living room as I hung up my coat. I peeked my head in. My parents were curled up together on the couch, a movie paused on the TV. Mom was resting her head against Dad, her eyes closed in slumber.

  “Sorry. I texted Mom. We were making a demo tape. Marcus was pretty intense about it.”

  “She told me. What exactly is the demo tape for?” Dad questioned. The lights in the living room were off; his face was illuminated by the soft glow of the TV.

  “It’s for Reece Miller, that agent who was at the Battle of the Bands. He wanted us to drop a demo tape on his desk…remember?”

  “Oh right, I remember now.” Dad nodded. He was silent for a few moments, gazing down at Mom’s sleeping face with love. “Is this
something you’re serious about? This band thing?”

  I was silent while I thought about his question. Prior to this year, I had never pictured myself as someone who would “join” a band. I knew I loved music, and I knew that I loved to sing…but I figured my future with singing and music would be either a music teacher or a volunteer choir singer.

  Since the day that the guys asked me to perform with them in the Battle of the Bands, my eyes had opened to a realm of possibilities that I hadn’t even considered before, especially after meeting Reece Miller. If it were at all possible for us to make it, I definitely wanted to. Who would walk away from that? We had to at least try—and I wanted to try. I didn’t want to look back and have regrets about the one time I had an opportunity to follow the dream that lived within my heart of hearts—to actually be a singer with a recording label—only to let that opportunity pass because I was too scared to put myself out there.

  It was a terrifying thought, thinking about Reece Miller and the rest of the recording label listening to our demo tape and wondering if they’d like it or if they would tear it apart. Would they see the potential and then want to reshape our entire image?

  “Yes,” I answered. “I didn’t think it would be my thing…” I trailed off, thinking about how strange the whole situation was.

  “You’ve always been a beautiful singer,” Dad argued softly. I smiled my thanks. He was silent for a beat or two before he looked up at me again. “So, you send him the demo-tape, then what?”

  “Then we wait to hear what he thinks. His label may not like us…I have no idea.” I shrugged. “It’s worth a try though, and it’s fun.”

  “You’ve got your first show this week, don’t you?” Dad’s gentle voice was beginning to rouse Mom from her sleep. She stretched and let out a soft sigh, her eyes still closed.

  “Yeah,” I answered quietly. “Are you guys going to come?”

  “I’ll be there.” Dad nodded. “Your Mom, too…if she doesn’t get called into work.”

  “Okay,” I said as I stood up. “I’m really tired, so…I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight, I love you guys.”

  * * *

  The next morning, I awoke late for school. I rushed about, nearly tripping over Stella a hundred times while I attempted to get ready. Once I had dressed, I tore apart my room looking for my bag. I froze, realizing that I had forgotten it in Grayson’s truck.

  I picked up my phone from my night stand and composed a text to Grayson. I hope you’re at school today. Left my bag in your truck… I hit send, slipping my phone into my back pocket, and left my bedroom.

  I raced down the stairs, hoping to find my mom in the kitchen. It was empty though, save for the notable evidence that she had been there. The crock pot was on, an indication that Mom had already left for work.

  Sighing, I glanced up the stairs. I knew Julia was still home—I had heard her snoring softly while I had gotten dressed. I didn’t want to wake her, though. My phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I pulled it out.

  I had a new text message from Grayson. In your driveway, it said. I whirled around, grabbing my jacket and slipping my feet into my boots, my heart thumping excitedly in my chest at the prospect of seeing him again. I patted Stella on the head before I left the house.

  I let out a sigh of relief as I jogged down the driveway and climbed into the cab. My bag was on the floor by my feet, right where I had dropped it after school the day before.

  I closed the door and turned to face him. Grayson was looking at me hungrily. His hand came up to rest on the back of my neck as his other arm went around my waist and tugged me closer. His lips grazed mine softly, almost exploratory before he increased the pressure.

  I kissed him back, running my hands through his mussed hair. Grayson let out a low growl, attempting to exercise his control before it was completely unleashed. He lifted his lips away from mine, his vivid blue eyes fixed on mine.

  “We’re going to be late,” he said. I pulled away, trying not to take his words as a brush-off or rejection. He was right; we were already running late.

  I remained silent as he reversed onto the street and started to drive. My thoughts were occupied with the semi-formal. I glanced at Grayson, biting my lip as I studied his face. I really didn’t think it would be something he “did”, but I wouldn’t know for sure until I mentioned it.

  I brushed back a strand of my hair, trying to get up the courage. His eyes were focused on the short stretch of highway, and he wasn’t paying attention to my dilemma. Grayson put his indicator on, slowing down as we approached the school’s entrance. He drove toward the student parking lot and found a space, pulling the truck in.

  “So, semi-formal is in a couple of weeks…” I remarked. I kept my tone neutral as I purposely avoided looking at him. I saw his head turn out of the corner of my eye. The silence stretched on for several long moments, and I stole a look at him.

  Grayson was studying me inquisitively. He appeared to be weighing words carefully in his head. “And?”

  “I know it’s not really your thing…but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to come with me?” I blurted, feeling completely stupid. Grayson didn’t say anything. His expression became closed off, as if I had overstepped some boundary he’d put in place.

  The moments trickled by in silence and my anxiety rose. I felt stupid and dorky for asking him. “Forget about it,” I managed, grabbing my bag and fleeing from his truck. I stomped up to the school, not bothering to look behind me. I hadn’t heard Grayson’s door close, so I doubted he was even following.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that—about how he could so easily let me walk away when I was upset, but then did he even know I was upset? Did he care?

  Grayson’s complete lack of response to my question had stung. I was beginning to feel even more conflicted over our relationship.

  When we were together, it was incredible. He set me on fire and made me burn. But the way he had looked at me—like I’d had eight heads—when I asked him about the semi-formal made me feel as if the only thing Grayson wanted from me was what I was willingly giving him.

  * * *

  I was in a silent, rather miserable mood by lunch. Not only did I still feel stupid for mentioning the dance to Grayson, but I also felt rejected. I had looked for him all morning. I didn’t even know if he stayed at school or just left. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care, but it was pointless. I cared. Too much. Which was why I was standing beside my friends, scowling at the line of students waiting to purchase their semi-formal tickets. The student council had set up a table with a banner that read “SEMI-FORMAL” beneath the trophy cabinet.

  The three of us stood off to the side, Aubrey and Lindsay debating on whether we should join the lineup or wait until the hype died down a little. They would be set up at lunch each day selling tickets, so it wasn’t as if we would miss out.

  “I can’t wait!” Lindsay squealed with excitement. “We need to get them now.” I stood stiffly beside her, folding my arms across my chest.

  “What about Alicia?” I demanded.

  “We’ll get her ticket too,” Aubrey assured me. She noticed my posture and expression. “What’s wrong? What happened? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled, not wanting to get into it. Technically, nothing had happened. Grayson hadn’t said anything to upset me…because he hadn’t said anything at all. I looked over my shoulder, hoping that he would be sauntering toward me, but he wasn’t. The hallway was full of students, but none of them were him. I looked back at my friends, feeling a hollow ache in my heart that had less to do with the whole dance dilemma and more to do with his lack of response and the growing sense of dread and insecurity in the pit of my stomach. “I just don’t think that Grayson will come and that kind of sucks; I was really hoping he’d take me.”

  Kyle’s sudden voice in my ear startled me. “If you need a date, I’ll keep one of my arms open for you.” I jumped sideways, and he automat
ically lifted his hands to steady me. He had a playful grin on his face. Marcus snorted as he wrapped his arms around Aubrey in greeting.

  “That won’t be necessary, thanks.” The menacing voice came from directly behind me. I turned, surprised to see Grayson there. I didn’t notice him approach.

  His eyes were hard as his gaze bore into Kyle. Kyle straightened up to his full height, removing his hands from my arms. He stared back at Grayson, a challenging look in his normally light eyes. The tension was palpable between the two of them as they stood there, glaring at each other. The students around us stared, sensing the strained exchange.

  “Oh? Are you going to take her yourself and finally come out of the shadows?” Kyle’s words were harsh. His eyes narrowed at Grayson. “I was beginning to think you were ashamed of her.”

  I had never seen Kyle act that way before—possessive and heated. His words stung because it was one of things that I was worried about.

  Aubrey, Lindsay and Marcus stared at Kyle, as shocked as I was. Kyle didn’t really get angry. When I’d inadvertently hurt him by telling him that there was something between Grayson and me, he had been quiet and reserved for a week, but he wasn’t angry like he was now.

  Grayson’s lip curled and he took a step toward Kyle, his fists clenched at his sides. He looked formidable. I exhaled quickly, my eyes flashing back to Kyle’s. He seemed every bit as pissed off as Grayson.

  “I am not ashamed of her.” Grayson’s voice was low and dangerous, just begging Kyle to say something else. He took another step forward, his eyes hard. I put my hands against Grayson’s chest in an attempt to get him to stop. Feeling my palms against his sweater, he glanced down at me, working his jaw furiously. The pain that shadowed his anger was detectable in his intense eyes. I exhaled, my breath brushing across his lips. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

  “Let’s just go, Grayson,” I said, grasping his arm and almost dragging him away from Kyle. I led Grayson down the hallway to the north exit. Clusters of students in groups of three would occasionally walk up or down the stairwell, but it was mostly empty. I didn’t loosen my grip on his arm until we were tucked safely underneath the stairs, mostly hidden from view. I stared at him, searching his face with a slight frown.