“I’m being serious, Mase. Who did this to you?” I reiterate, seriousness etched into every crease in my forehead.
He drops his playfulness and licks his lips before sighing. “Who do you think?” His voice cracks.
I shake my head before the one person who would be despicable enough to do this crosses my mind. But I don’t want to believe it. He’s an ass ninety percent of the time, and these two have history—bad history apparently—but he wouldn’t just beat him up. Would he…?
I am about to defend him despite the gut feeling I am wrong when a single image pops into my brain and sears brightly. Grey. There’s no shadow of a doubt. He’s standing over Mason, bloody fist raised above Mason’s face as he tries to defend himself. Gears shift into place, and anger settles.
“You’re not saying…” I close my mouth and feel my hands curve into fists. “I’m going to fucking kill him!” I jump to my feet and pivot toward the door, but I’m pulled back before I can find that wretched guy and pummel his face in.
“Don’t,” Mason says, gripping my hand tighter. I reluctantly look into his soft eyes. But I don’t understand. Why hold me back from standing up for him? What Grey did was most likely unnecessary.
“He hurt you, Mason. How can you expect me to just sit back and let him get away with this? It’s not fair,” I rant, feeling my blood boil once again.
“Because it was long overdue,” he answers.
“The fight? Why?” I pull my hand from his and tug at my bracelet. “You won’t tell me what grudge you two share, and it’s infuriating being in the dark. I know I’m just some girl you met a few weeks ago, but we’ve grown as friends, and I want to know why my other ‘supposed’ friend hates you.”
He opens his mouth but ends up closing it. “You’re right, but I really can’t tell you. Only because I’m not at liberty to.”
I turn away from him and cross my arms. I don’t know what happened between them—hell—didn’t even know they knew—let alone hated—each other until recently. And the fact that neither of them will budge and tell me why drives me insane.
I admit, I am a little bit of an overzealous person who craves knowledge. Especially knowledge that is in the shadows. I’m the type of girl who wields a flashlight around to uncover secrets. I like to believe that in an alternate universe, I am a detective. But here in this world, I’m a girl who likes to pry too much.
“Liv,” he says roughly. I face him, so he won’t use his shredded voice past its clear limitation. He squints his eyes slightly. “Let it go, will you? Trust me when I say you don’t want to uncover what happened in the past. I know you’re curious, but this is something you have to let go.”
“Fine,” I say after a moment of silence. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Of course; what is it?”
“This will be the only thing you’re keeping from me.”
He smiles and nods. “Got it. Now that we have that over with—” He lets out a ragged yawn and rubs his eyes. “Mind getting me a glass of water?”
“No, of course not,” I say. “I’ll be back. In the meantime, can you call Jaimie and ask where she and Julia are? I would like nothing more than to get out of here. I smell like roadkill, and I absolutely refuse to freshen up in this house.” I make up my face in disgust and gag for emphasis.
He laughs jubilantly and nods, reaching inside his pocket. “Already on it. I think they’re on their way back from the nearby auto shop.”
I leave him on the phone with the girls, gently closing the door after me. Before I go downstairs, I stop to use the bathroom, feeling like the Pacific Ocean is entombed in my stomach.
When I open the door after I’m done, a shirtless boy with shaggy blond hair and a lazy smile is leaning against the frame. I don’t know why or how he caused it, but an electric shiver encases me in goosebumps from head to toe.
I take a step back and falter with my words. “Excuse me.” When I try to walk around him, he moves to the side and cocks his head. I don’t like the way he examines me. I nervously fidget on my feet and clear my throat. “I said—”
“I heard you the first time, babe,” he croons, his musky liquor breath hitting me like a truck. I almost scrunch up my nose but control myself and my manners before I can. “Had…fun last night?” Why does he sound so cryptic? I honestly couldn’t care less about the answer. I just want to get around him and get my friend some water.
“Can you please move out of the way?” I ask in a polite tone, displaying a smile even though a nagging tug in my stomach is telling me to not play nice with him, but to run. Far, far away.
Before I can decipher the reason my body is sending warning signals to my brain, he steps to the side and glances at me sideways as I quickly walk out of the room.
“I’ll see you around, doll,” he calls after me gloomily.
I don’t look over my shoulder, finally listening to my body. I shake off the frigid ice rolling off my shoulders and continue down the hall and onto the first floor. Call me crazy, but I swear I’ve seen him before. When I try to search through the endless snapshot pictures stacked away in my mind, all I come up with is the feeling of a heavy weight on my chest. And a party. I don’t know why, though. Maybe I was drunk last night, and he fell on me? I don’t know. But what I do know is that I do not look forward seeing him again.
The kitchen occupies three sluggish guys shoving lipstick-stained red cups into trash bags and wiping unknown substances, most likely vomit—as vile as it sounds, looks, and smells—off the walls. I’m glad I don’t remember anything clearly from last night. But what I do know—the fight—ticks me off in the worst way possible.
I still can’t believe Grey would do such a thing. I wonder if he’s still around, just so I can scream at him and demand he tell me why he hurt my friend. I did see a few sleeping bodies lounging around when I was walking into the kitchen.
When the red cup I found in one of the cabinets is halfway filled, I turn the faucet off and walk over to the refrigerator in the corner of the room. The cleanliness in me is begging to grab a cloth and Windex and wipe down the surface and even clean the rest of the trashed house while I’m at it. The only problem is: I don’t want to stay in this house any longer than I already have.
I’m too afraid to even glance at the clock hanging on top of the door as I exit the kitchen. I know I’m probably extremely late for my first class. This only proves that I should stop coming to these things.
I’m turning the corner when I bump into a person. Some of the water almost spills on me as I stumble back and straighten myself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you…” I trail off. I look up into the person’s eyes. Pitch black. “I take that back, I meant to bump into you.” My eyes do a brief once over, taking in the white wife beater that sticks to his muscles and the faded Levi jeans hanging off his sculpted hips, his feet bare. I feel my mouth run dry and lift my eyes to find him smiling at me with an amused expression.
“If only I could say the same thing.” Grey shrugs comically and begins to walk around me, but I step in his way, and he sighs and rubs his nose like he sees the future and doesn’t like it. “What is it?”
I don’t answer him immediately but take note of his face. There is a deep cut on his left cheek, a dark purple bruise under his right eye, and a nasty cut on the right side of his bottom lip. A sense of pride and shock run through me. Looks like Mason got him good too.
“Don’t act like you didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, clutching my hand tighter around the plastic in my hand. “What you did was completely horrible. How can you even stand here without falling to your knees with guilt?” He scrunches up his face in confusion, and I nearly throw the cup of water at him. Maybe then it’ll wake up his brain and he’ll remember. “Last night…” I inquire, lifting my eyebrows in expectation.
“Last…?” His voice trails off, and his eyebrows shoot up in the air, a smile tugging on his lips. “Oh, last night. You mean our sexy ass make-out?” He leans on
the wall and tilts his head. “Did you want to continue where we left off, right here in this hallway? You filthy little princess, you.” He reaches out and taps my nose with a bark of laughter.
My heart plummets to my ankles. “What? We didn’t…no…no, no, no, no—I wouldn’t be so drunk that I’d kiss you,” I whisper, my voice splintering with cracks.
He makes a pained sound and puts a hand over his chest. “Way to hurt a guy. And here I thought you were up for the big O, which I am delighted to present to you.” He grabs me by my waist and yanks me forward. I gasp in shock and feel water spill down my top. He snickers, his eyes lighting up and his dimples creasing in his cheeks.
“Damn, mami. Look at you already getting wet by my touch. It’s endearing. But wait until I get these clothes off you.” He winks, and I nearly throw up on the spot. Whether because of the slight hangover holding me hostage or his words, I don’t know. But what I do know is that it’s going to come up one way or another.
“You disgust me!” I use my knee and push him away from me. He catches the back of my knee and pulls me against him. He leans down, grazing his great white teeth against my earlobe. The shiver of fire crawling up my neck irritates me. He’s distracting me from my anger in a pleasurable way, which is very annoying.
“You weren’t saying that last night,” he whispers, his voice raspy and dark enough that it sends a shade of satisfaction shimmering down my back.
“Well, I am saying it…now. Get away from me, Grey!” I gather enough energy—he seemed to suck it from me like an incubus—and use my free hand to shove his shoulder away. Chilling laughter bursts out of his mouth, his eyes closed. I regard him with a look of hatred, debating whether or not to throw this water in his face.
His eyes fly open, and he sighs. “Yeah, about that…you can forget it ever happened.” His demeanor grows serious as he pushes off the wall and crosses his arms. “I know you want to, seeing how your sweet little nunnish mind is losing its shit from hitting first base with a person of the opposite gender.” He bats his eyelashes, childlike, and puts his fingers to his mouth.
I roll my eyes at his everlasting immaturity and ask after a pause, “Can you at least tell me what happened exactly?” I glance at the floor to avoid his intense glare. Talk about bipolar. Loving up on me one second then turning into Darth Vader the next.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He waves his hand at me and ruffles out his messy black hair, looking around like I’m holding him up against his will. The sting in my chest is distinct, but I ignore it and continue digging for answers.
“But last night—” I begin.
“Never happened, so drop it.” His tone is serious and cuts me deep.
“But you—” I breathe out heavily when it hits me, stumbling back into the wall. It is the only thing capable of keeping me upright. I close my eyes and steel my trembling lips. “You took it. You of all people in the world, you, you confusing bastard, you freaking took it.”
“Took what?” He sounds annoyed.
I look up from the ground and hiss, “My first kiss, asshole! I was saving that for someone I actually liked or, well, someone worthy of my liking. But you had just beaten up my best friend, and I kissed you.” I grab my hair and face the ground, too ashamed to even look at him.
He scoffs. “You’re acting a bit overdramatic, don’t you think?”
I look up, and it takes everything in me to not drive my fist into his face. “No, I don’t think I’m being overdramatic. You may be used to kissing and screwing around with random girls, or your star whore Diana every day, but it matters to me, because I wanted that and my…something else to be remembered as special moments. Not a drunken mistake with an asshole who has a ridiculous grudge against transgender people!”
“I do not have a grudge against transgender people.”
“Seriously?” I laugh and nod my head. “Great. That was the only thing you caught from what I just said? Unbelievable.” I click my tongue against my cheek and turn around to go up the stairs. I’m sure Mason is wondering where I am, anyway. And I’m clearly not getting anywhere with this ass.
A burning sensation rips through my wrist as I am deftly turned back around and nudged into the wall. Grey towers over me with a frightening scowl etched into his normally beautiful face.
“Do not turn away from me!” He smacks the wall behind me. I flinch and narrow my eyes at him.
“Why not?” I question.
His lips tremble and so does the hand he reaches out to touch my cheek but ends up gripping his hair. His eyes are wild, and he braces on a wide smile that scares me. “Because it’s disrespectful.”
I snort and look around in humor before looking into his burning eyes. “You’re an insensitive asshole who only cares about himself, so why the hell should I care about you or worry about being disrespectful to you?” I spit, shoving every amount of venom I can muster up in my voice.
His nose flares. “Because we’re supposed to be friends.”
“You beat up Mason!” I exasperate.
He points to his face with a scowl. “And I didn’t get hurt in return?”
I can’t help the smile that grows. “You got what you deserved.”
“Oh, did I?” He squints his eyes.
When I nod, he smacks the wall behind me before pushing off from my chest and leaning on the opposite wall. What is wrong with him? “If only you knew what that little shit did, then you wouldn’t be sticking up for him so adamantly.”
My curiosity piques yet again, but I promised Mason I wouldn’t pry into their past. Even though a large part of me is pleading to get even the tiniest peek.
“Wow,” I say, “I’m surprised that word’s even in your vocabulary.” I clap my hands sarcastically.
He glares at me. “Oh, why don’t you fuck off?”
“Don’t have to; you have Diana to do that for you.” I smile falsely, tilting my head.
“Why do you even care what I do with her so much?”
“Because I—” I stop myself from talking and turn around, cupping my free hand around my other one. I almost told him, no—screamed—something I don’t think I’m ready to face.
He walks around me and says, “Because you what?” I look away, but he gently holds my face and forces me to look into his raging black eyes. The curve of his dangerously full lips, the arch of his dark eyebrows, the glint of amusement in his eyes. He’s teasing me. Challenging me, even. Well, too bad I won’t fall into his trap. Not this time. Not ever again.
“Because I hate you!” I shout. Lies, my subconscious whispers. “Because I hate how you are so small minded and only think of when she’s going to call for a quick hookup. Because I hate the way your mood switches with a snap of the finger. And most of all, because I hate how you make me feel when I’m around you.” The last one hints at what I was going to say previously, and his deepened smile tells me he caught on. “Angry, agitated, and overall delirious.” Nice save, my subconscious taunts. I ignore her and pant for my breath.
His smile drops.
“At least I’m making you feel things,” he says, his words sharp. “At least you’re not plain Jane around me, like when you were home, sitting in your big mansion and riding horses or some rich, lonely shit like that. At least I made you feel alive. I bet you were as dead as you are now, but at least I’m sparking a little something so you’re finally alive and not just living. Before me, you were a stuck-up prude who had nothing to hold onto, but now you actually do. And you should be fucking grateful and stop complaining like a little bitch.”
I gasp, and the next thing I know, my hand is in the air and so is the water. The Solo cup drops to the floor, making a deafening sound that splits an opening in the thick silence. Did I just…?
“I’m so sorr—” A hand is around my neck, and my body collides against the wall before I can finish. I gasp and look into his wide eyes and flared nostrils. Pure, unadulterated rage sprinkles over the water dripping down his curls and onto h
is eyelashes, past his churning eyes. It surrounds him and chokes me until I am gasping frantically for air. His hand is clutched around my throat, but it does not hold a steel grip. But the motion and the rage that cuts into me is enough to get his point across. He wants to kill me, or at least his heart does.
“Grey!” Jaimie shouts far away.
He glances at her then back at me. I see the light that left his once-desolate eyes shift back into place, and the color on his cheeks pales. His mouth falls open, and I swear I see tears brim his eyes. He steps back and looks at his hands with disbelief. I just watch him, my eyes fluttering as I try to piece together what the hell just happened. I can’t believe he just did that…He finally looks up from his hands and gulps, stepping forward.
“I’m so sorr—” My hand collides with his cheek before he can finish.
“I’m done with you,” I breathe, my voice ragged and my heart pounding recklessly. I turn away from his wide eyes and trembling lips and wrap my arms around myself. Tears shamelessly cascade down my cheeks while sobs leave me as I run past a gaping Jaimie and into her car out front.
Once inside the empty car, I scream and scream and scream until there is nothing left in me.
Chapter Thirty-One
I barely made it to the last five minutes of my first class. I profusely apologized to the professor. He just gave me my assignment for the week and waved it off. He said it didn’t really matter, but it mattered to me. A lot. I’ve always arrived at class on time. And I wasn’t dressed like a floozy who just woke up after drinking a boatload of alcohol. Today, however, I decided to come straight to class, skipping breakfast and a shower.
I felt embarrassed as he asked if I was okay. I wanted to say no. I wanted to say that I just had my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped all over by someone I’d been growing feelings for. Feelings that scare me. And how I want to help him become better, because I saw the madness in his eyes when he had his hand around my neck, like he would hurt me. But I just answered with a simple “yes,” smiled, and took my seat, only to leave minutes later.
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