Grey_The Encounter
Page 24
“You’re an asshole,” I say through gritted teeth, clenching his black shirt around my fists.
“Say that to the world,” he sing-songs, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Fine.” I push him away and turn before he can catch my smile. My stomach churns, and my heart is pounding. I close my eyes and take deep breaths. “Asshole,” I say, my voice cracking. His laugh resonates through the air, and I turn back and pierce him with a glare. He lets up but stands close behind me and puts his hands on my waist. My breath catches in my throat when I feel his long fingers grasp the sliver of my skin.
“Put more effort into it, like you mean it,” he instructs.
“This is stupid,” I say, prying his hands off me.
“No, it is not. Just do it. You’ll feel better,” he promises. But I don’t believe him. How will shouting to a town make me feel better? “Friends aren’t supposed to doubt each other,” he says.
“Friends aren’t supposed to blackmail each other, either,” I say under my breath.
“What was that?” he croons. I cut a glare at him over my shoulder. What bad could possibly come of this? No one knows we’re up here, and I bet no one can even hear us.
“Asshole,” I try again. He says to be louder. “Asshole,” I say, louder this time. Louder. “Asshole!” I scream on the top of my lungs. Again and again, I scream a word I was once restricted from ever uttering, let alone screaming. I feel a weight lift off my shoulders and a smile make its way to my face.
“There you go,” he encourages me. “You’ve got it.”
A smile takes up the width of my face. “Oh, I do?” I raise my eyebrows, watching him nod with an amused smile.
“Yes, yes, you do.” His words vibrate through my body.
I turn my head just the slightest and find myself trapped in a pair of eyes. Eyes that nearly blend into the dark. Coupled with a smirk that promises trouble, he almost resembles a dark knight.
A dark knight with a mission that would leave me one of two ways: broken hearted or devastated. Because just one glance at this guy with black eyes and a charming smile, and I know my fate—beautiful disaster.
***
“I had fun tonight,” I tell Grey as he comes to a stop in the dorm parking lot. I take off my seatbelt and hold out my palm with a knowing smile. He looks at it with a confused expression before it dawns on him. I watch him reach in a pocket inside his jacket and pull out my phone. I go to take it, but he pulls it back and holds out his hand.
“Not so fast,” he says, “you have something of mine too.”
“Right.” I lean back in the seat and reach in my pants I dropped his lighter in but come up empty. I pat my other pockets and look around. Maybe I dropped it here? No. We were standing outside. Where the heck is it?
“Looking for this?” I look up to find the lighter dangling in front of my face.
“You had it?” I snatch my phone from him with a scowl.
“Yup-a-roo,” he sings.
I roll my eyes and check my phone. My mother has tried calling me thirty-seven times and filled my message box with relentless texts.
“This is the last time you’ll be seeing me, because my mother will kill me—” I smile when I speak, but it fades when I hear his phone chirp and he snatches it off the dashboard. I catch a quick glimpse of a redhead on the screen. Diana. Of course.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Sorry, gotta go.”
“Really? You don’t want to come in?”
He looks up from his phone. For a second, I think he’s going to blow off his booty call with Diana and spend the night with me like last night. What a magnificent second that was. Because for a second, I thought he really cared about me.
Instead, he shrugs.
“David needs me to close up shop; he’s at some party. But I’ll catch you around?” His smile almost looks genuine. Almost.
I plaster on a fake smile of my own and nod. “Yeah, of course. Good night, Grey.” I step out of the car, and immediately he speeds out of the parking lot. What did I expect? He’d turn down a fling with a gorgeous girl to not do the same thing with me? A prude? Wait—the queen of prudes? “Stupid,” I mutter to myself, tearing my eyes away. I turn around and walk inside the dorm.
When I open my dorm room door, I swear I feel my heart drop. My mother is sitting on my study desk with crossed legs and arms. Her intense scowl makes me cower on the inside. “I think we need to have a talk, don’t you?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
My mother stayed half the night lecturing me on how I rude I am becoming. How I hung up on her in the middle of her straightening me out. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t mean to. That it wasn’t even me who did it, but if I did that’d mean she’d know Grey was in my room. Then she’d come to the conclusion that he spent the night. And I knew if I admitted to that, I wouldn’t be on campus anymore. She’d pull me out of this school and put me into NYU, where she wanted me to go in the first place. I would be closer to her and under a watchful eye.
But I don’t want that. I never did. I love my mother, and I love how much she cares about my education, but I wanted to get away from her and experience life. Not get crazy or anything but live without her breathing down my neck and telling me how I should fix my hair before leaving for an event or iron my shirt until there’s zero creases or buy more khakis until my closet is overflowing.
I appreciate her looking out for me in every way possible, but I needed some time away from her strict rules and…everything.
I text Grey.
Friends don’t ignore each other.
My finger hovers over the send button. I hit it and let out a sigh of frustration. This is the third text I’ve sent him. He’s been ignoring them and me all morning, and I don’t know why. Yesterday was amazing. I admit I had fun and, even though he won’t admit it, I know he did as well. But the minute his stupid phone rang, something in him shifted. He sped out of the parking lot before I could even blink. But I honestly should have seen it coming. I don’t think it’s possible for him to be so nice without flipping a switch and turning on me at the last possible moment. I just wish…I just wish it didn’t have to be so hard. And I wish he would just return my calls.
I put my phone down on the table and rub the back of my neck. He should be able to be with girls, or a particular girl that makes my blood boil, without me freaking out like this. What is actually wrong with me?
“Earth to Liv.” A hazy voice and the snapping of fingers pull me out of my thoughts. I look up from my coffee and into a pair of rich brown eyes. Mason. I take the coffee he kindly renewed for me and set it next to me on the table. “He’s still not answering?” he asks, referring to Grey. Earlier I told him how my new friend has been deliberately ignoring my texts. I know he’s seeing them because under every text is the dreaded word: READ.
“No, he didn’t,” I say, picking up the coffee and taking a sip. The hot substance warms my chest as it slides down my throat, but it does good to wake me further. I didn’t get any sleep last night. The nightmare of that guy in the car running me over again and again made sure of that. I woke up shaking, unable to go back to sleep. Even now I can’t stop shaking. The feeling was just so real. I could actually feel fear clogging up my pores.
As for the driver, a sense of familiarity flashed through me, but it was gone the second it came.
“Liv, tell me what’s wrong,” Mason begs, taking my hand. “Even though I despise the guy, I’m willing to hear about him if it makes you feel better.” The warm smile he gives me, the gentle but firm grip on my hand—his concern for me makes me feel so grateful I’m friends with him. Apparently, he’s the only friend I have who cares for my feelings. I shouldn’t think that. Grey is a good friend.
Why am I overlooking everything good he’s done for me? Because he left to go see that she-devil? Why am I even upset right now? Should I tell Mason my jumbled and incoherent thoughts?
I decide not to; they don’t make sense.
But I can question something I’ve been wondering about for a while now.
“Why?” I look up from his hand holding mine.
“Why what?” He looks up with a confused expression.
“Why do you despise Grey?” I clarify. It really is weird how much he hates the guy. I know he can be difficult and an ass at times, but he can be sweet…sometimes.
He pauses and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He did something really fucked up in the past. Something that was unforgivable…but it was out of my hands.” He stops talking, bringing his hand up to his hair. I watch as his once warm aura turns cold. “Don’t ask what it was, either.”
“Why not?” He knows I’m a naturally curious person, and the fact that he’s reluctant to tell me more only strengthens the curiosity. “Was it something…illegal?” My voice shakes, but I clear my throat and absentmindedly twirl a straw in my coffee. I know nothing about Grey’s past, and this will give me some insight, no matter how unpleasant it may have been.
He’s battling whether to tell me or not. I can see it in his eyes and the way he’s clutching his coffee mug. “Let’s just say that it was bad, okay?” he finally says after a while.
“Does it have to do with Rose?” I ask, sitting up in my chair. There is a much larger picture I’m not seeing. I can only see little fragments and draw up countless theories. And it’s killing me that I can’t just see everything.
He doesn’t say anything, but I can see that I am right. That girl has something to do with Grey’s troublesome past.
“Why can’t you just tell me? Maybe telling me can save me from…save me from something he did before or something he is capable of doing that I don’t know about.” I know Grey would never hurt me. I also know nothing about his past, and it sounds like he was involved in something corrupt. I can tell by the way Mason’s mood has abruptly plummeted. “Rose…did you know her?”
He flicks his eyes up from the table, and before he can even answer, the distinct ring above the door signaling a new customer sounds. He avoids my gaze. He is holding back information from me, and it’s frustrating he won’t tell me. Whatever it is, Grey must have him covering for him. But I don’t know why. If Mason hates him so much, why protect him?
A minute of me trying to catch his shifty gaze passes.
“Try not to burn the coffee, thanks…Olive? Is that you?” a high-pitched voice that rivals nails scraping down a chalkboard says. A voice I know. A voice I loathe. It belongs to a person I greatly detest. I turn around and find Diana looking down at me over a pair of cherry red glasses while smacking on bright pink gum. “I knew it was; I could smell the rust on your chastity belt a mile away.” How pleasant she is.
“My name is Olivia,” I tell her through gritted teeth around a straining smile.
“Sure.” She shrugs and shifts her eyes to Mason. She tilts her head. “Hey there, Macie. Whoops! I totally meant Mason.” She flashes her teeth as she sucks them, batting her eyelashes. I don’t like this girl. And I can’t, for the life of me, understand why Grey does. Sure, she could be a good…sex partner to have one call away, but she is obviously a terrible person.
Mason tenses and braces on a faux smile like me. “I’d say it’s lovely seeing you, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t lie.”
A nasty smile twitches at her lips. “Sure you don’t…” What is that supposed to mean? I glance at Mason, and he looks at me as if to say don’t pay any attention to this crazy bitch. “So what are y’all up to? Is this, like, some sort of date?” She snorts as if that would be so terrible.
I curl my hands in fists. I’ve never wanted to punch someone as badly as I do now.
“What if it is?” I challenge her, and she cackles. Literally cackles. A part of me wishes she would choke on her gum.
“Doesn’t matter to me.” She walks up to the counter after having her name called. “Because then you wouldn’t be a problem anymore. In the way…” She thanks the barista and spins on her combat boots.
“What do you mean?” I know I shouldn’t pay her any attention, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s talking about Grey. But that wouldn’t make any sense, because I’m not enough to be an obstacle in whatever twisted relationship they have.
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” she says, pausing while her red lips curl into a snarl. “You have Grey wrapped around your finger. It’s annoying and fascinating at the same time, but not fascinating enough for me to tolerate you.” She drops her lips into a nasty frown. “But I guess you are essential to him. When he’s through with you, then he can finally be with me…”
“What are you talking about?” She’s not making any sense.
“Just fuck off, Diana,” Mason interjects.
Her cell phone chirps. She pulls it out of her pocket and looks at the screen with a triumphant smile before letting it fall in her shoulder bag.
“Gladly,” she says. “Grey wants me. He just cannot get enough of me. First last night and now too?” She whistles and chuckles with venom breathing through her words. “Well, I’ll see you around. I gotta go or he’ll get all whiny. Anyway, maybe we’ll see you tonight at the party. Come or not, couldn’t give a shit. But I have some coming to do right now.” She pushes her glasses up her nose, pops a large bubble, and blows a kiss in my direction. “Tootles, bitches!” I watch her sashay out of the shop with my mouth and heart on the floor.
So Grey couldn’t respond to my worried texts because he was too busy fooling around with her? Diana? That obnoxious, venomous girl who practically waved him in front of my face? He is so unbelievable.
He thinks he can be so sweet and helpful one minute then turn on me and screw with her, making me feel like an idiot, the next. It’s infuriating and hurtful and…and…not something a friend would do.
“Don’t listen to her—” Mason begins.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” I cut him off. I get to my feet.
“No, but what does that—?”
“Cool, because I want to go out,” I say and smile. “It’s been a while since we’ve been to a party. And I’m suddenly in the mood.”
“Is this because of what Diana said? Because if it is, you can tell me, and—”
“It isn’t,” I lie.
He stretches his lips in a straight line; he knows I’m lying, but I don’t care. If Grey thinks he can just mess with me, then I can do the same to him. I can also be confusing and hurtful. I’m not just some stupid naïve girl who will let him do what he is doing now. Not anymore.
“We can leave at ten. I better go look for an outfit right now. I want to find the perfect one for tonight, and you know how I like everything to be just right.” The smile I give him makes my cheeks hurt.
“Liv—” He tries to reach out to me.
“Great! It’s a plan. See you soon, Mase.” I lean down and kiss his cheek before rushing out of the cafe.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I have done it once again!” Jaimie squeals proudly and claps her hands. “I should totally be your stylist. With my help, I bet we can snag you a hottie for the year. Maybe even two if you stop putting down leather. Trust me, you have the ass for it.”
“Try it again with that leather-ass shit,” Julia growls. “I dare you.”
Jaimie is ecstatic that I let her dress me for the party we are now pulling up to. I wanted to break out of my usual dressing routine to mess with Grey, like he messes with me regularly. I normally don’t do this—well, I normally don’t have a reason to—but he really hurt my feelings. And even though he’s oddly attached to Diana, it doesn’t mean I can’t get to him.
“Don’t expect to do this for me again. I just needed your help tonight,” I tell Jaimie, crossing my arms as we enter the house.
Tonight, I am wearing skinny jeans that feel like a second skin, a burgundy off the shoulder shirt with black lace on the back that shows a little of my neck, and thigh-high black boots that have heels. The outfit is daring and dangerously out of my comfor
t zone. I feel my feet itching for a nice, comfy pair of Toms or ballet flats. And don’t get me started on these jeans. I can practically hear my khaki collection scream for me inside of the closet.
“’Sup,” a guy with blazed red eyes says, giving me a nod as he uncomfortably drags his bloodshot gaze up and down my body as I pass him. And he isn’t the only guy giving me attention either. Other guys do the same thing as we walk through the fraternity house.
Jaimie takes them all in stride and grins, and Julia flips them all off and promises to shove their hoo-has down their throats. They back off of the two and latch their sights on me.
I tear my gazes from the guy and walk faster, crossing my arms over my chest. How can they think them eyeing me like they’re predators makes me feel accomplished?
I look around and notice girls in short dresses giggle and stumble all over the guys, soaking in their default compliments, and wonder why they don’t tell them off. One of these guys has to be the biggest predator, who doesn’t just compliment you for a shy blush, but for so much more.
“You know, if you keep pushing your tits up like that, it won’t be a problem finding you a guy,” Jaimie tells me over her shoulder.
I look down and immediately drop my gaze. I was pushing up my chest, but I swear I didn’t even mean to. I blame this God forsaken push-up bra she had me wear. The rest of the walk into the living room is filled with whistles and roaming eyes that make me extremely uncomfortable. I just keep my eyes down and tell myself that this night will be over with before I know it. At least I hope it will be.
The living room is packed with sweaty drunk people in the middle of the room. I divert my eyes from a group of guys staring at me. I can’t remember the last time I came to one of these things, but I have a sense that something happened.