My phone vibrates in my jeans pocket. Pulling it out, I read the words as shock rolls through me, then guilt.
Grayson – Take her home, brother. This is your chance to fix what’s broke.
“Taylor,” Grayson calls to the driver. “Pull over here. I’m going to take a walk. Make sure Rose and Ashton arrive home safe, please.”
Rose sits up, her eyes scrunching in confusion. “Gray, it’s raining cats and dogs.”
“I’ll be fine,” he says, already opening the door as if he hasn’t even registered her words. “I hope you feel better soon.”
“But wait.” Rose shrugs out of his jacket. “Your—” But he’s already gone. “What was that all about?” Rose asks, turning from the door to gaze at me.
I don’t know how to answer her. Gray’s just been selfless for the first time in his life.
Looking at Rose, her makeup smudged from crying, her eyes red, empty… I’d love nothing more than to take her into my arms and kiss her. Consume her lips, her mind, until the hurt in her gaze is nothing but a distant memory. Until all she is, is desire and lust and need. But would it magically fix things? Would she wake up tomorrow and find me in her bed and be happy with that fact or would it become one more act widening the space between us? One more night for me to regret.
I want her. I want to fix what I broke. But I want her to come to me without tears in her eyes and sorrow in her soul. I want to kiss her when there’s no question it’s what we both want. And if I go up to her apartment tonight, I’ll not be able to resist. She is my weakness and I can’t take her to bed when there’s a chance it isn’t truly what she wants.
“I’ve no idea.”
“We’re here, Mr. Cole,” Taylor informs us.
Rose looks passed me out of the window and studies the building. “I bet she’s not home,” she says quietly.
“Will you be all right?”
Say no, say no, say no. But in true Rose fashion, she shakes off her emotions like an ill-fitting coat. “You know me, I’m tough. I’ll be all right.”
Taking her hand, I squeeze. “You do always seem to bounce back.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.” I shrug, wondering where this is going.
“You could have kept your position at Albany after what happened with Sophia. I could have fought it, but you’d have had enough people willing to defend you, yet you walked away. Why?”
There are so many different answers to her question. In a way, I was relieved to not need to be king. To be rid of Sophia and the expectations set for me. To just breathe and take a moment to try and remember who I was, but in the end, it really came down to one thing: the freedom from Arthur.
“The only reason I put on that metaphorical crown was to please Arthur. I became someone else, someone he wanted me to be to make my mom’s life easier. And in the end, it was all for nothing. I don’t want to be the person who cheats on his girlfriend and pretends to be someone he’s not. I don’t want to be the guy who poured glue over the head of the girl he loved instead of standing up for her. The power, the admiration… none of it is worth it anymore. It was never worth it to begin with.”
She’s silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating my words. “And yet it seems as if you and Gray are as thick as thieves, plotting away.”
I smile. Rose has always seen more than I want her too. “The difference is, Rose, we’re doing it for vengeance, for justice. Greed and power have nothing to do with it.”
“Who are you avenging?”
“That’s between Gray and me.”
Studying me, her eyes drop to my open hand, facing palm up. Reaching for it, Rose traces circles across my skin as she speaks somberly, “I don’t know how you just switched it off. How you just decided to stop being the person you were overnight.”
I wish I could give her what she really wants. I wish I had a magic formula for her to follow and suddenly be someone new. “It didn’t happen overnight, Rose. It took a long time for me to hit rock bottom… and rock bottom… it’s the perfect place to start anew.”
Finally taking hold of my hand fully, Rose squeezes tightly. “Every time I think I’ve reached rock bottom, the ground opens up again and I find myself at an all-new low.”
Reaching out, I cup her cheek, and leaning forward, place a kiss to the only place I dare. Her forehead. It feels like forever since I tasted her lips, since my heart truly beat with life, and even one brush of my lips would be enough for me to lose all rational thought. Rose is my addiction, and like my mother, I have no power when it comes to taking only one sip.
“Well, you were always the strongest of us. You find new lows, because you refuse to give up.”
“You make me sound far stronger than I feel, Ash.”
Hugging her close, I whisper near her ear. “Go get some sleep, Rose. I promise you the world will seem a little less dark come daybreak.”
“And if it doesn’t?” she asks as I release her.
My lips tug up into a sad smile. “You know where I live.” But I know her. I have experienced her fire, and it flickers inside of her even now. Come tomorrow she’ll be an inferno. One I’d willingly burn for, just for one simple touch.
Chapter 20
Grayson
I watch the limousine from across the road, rain running into my eyes, but I was soaked long before I arrived at Rose’s building. I regretted getting out of the vehicle the second it began to drive away, but for some strange, unknown reason, I seem to have grown a conscience. This is Ashton’s chance. If he plays his cards right, he’ll spend the night comforting Rose. Preferably in her bed, naked, and as much as that prospect sickens me, I know Rose loves him, and Ashton… well, if he got his head out of his ass long enough, he’d remember he’s miserable without her too.
Fuck! What is this girl doing to me? I’m not the guy who cares. I take what I want. Do what I want. I’m Grayson fucking Bishop, and I most certainly am not supposed to have a heart.
“Get out the car, Ash,” I murmur as Rose climbs out. She pauses, her purse above her head as if it might somehow shield her from the torrential rain hammering down, and gazes into the limo she’s just exited. Even from here I can see the longing on her face. She wants Ashton to come with her, but being the tool that he is, Ashton simply pops his head out of the vehicle and half waves before closing the door on her and driving away.
Rose backs away under the canopy above her building door. The doorman watches her, waiting to open the entrance for her, but she hovers for a few more moments as if the limousine might return. When she finally disappears inside, I stay on the opposite side of the street, wrestling with the new side of myself I’m not sure I like. There’s a reason I don’t give a shit about anyone or anything but myself; if you don’t care, you can’t get hurt. But in the end, my attraction for Rose wins out and I find myself crossing the road and nodding at the doorman as I step inside.
“Good evening to you, Master Grayson. Heading up to see Miss Rose this evening?”
“Hello, John, yes I am. Hope you’re well?” It pays to know the doormen by name in this city, I’ve sweet-talked myself into many buildings.
“No complaints, thank you. Is she expecting you?”
“Yes,” I lie.
John nods towards the elevator. “Best go on up and get dry, sir.”
I smile. “Yes, dreadful weather this evening.”
Once inside the elevator, I get a look at my appearance. Running a hand through my hair, I try to rearrange my soaked locks, so they aren’t flat to my head, and pull at my shirt.
Only way that’s improving is by being removed.
This won’t be the first time I’ve showed up to her apartment soaked to the bone, though I try not to think about that night. What drove me to seek Rose out when I was stripped bare and vulnerable is a mystery to me; I’ve never dealt with the urges and needs circling through my body before, and a part of me would quite like
to stamp them out as fast as possible.
Arriving at her door, I knock and moment later, she’s pulling open her door.
“Ash?” Rose whispers as she appears, her words like a dagger to my heart.
I’m not going to lie, hearing his name on her lips hurts far more than I care to admit. And I’m not sure why because I know damn well Rose loves Ashton. I know that, yet there’s a small, tiny in spark in me that hopes. I need fucking help.
I’m whipped. I’m a pussy. The old me would laugh his ass off at my new pathetic self.
“Oh… Gray, what are you doing here?” Rose asks quietly.
There’s no missing the tears glistening on her cheeks and the redness of her eyes. That’s why I’m here. Because Rose shouldn’t spend the night alone crying, and I couldn’t walk home without knowing if Ashton let her do so or not. Reaching out, I collect the tears on her face with my thumb and smile sadly.
“Because it’s your father’s birthday and he’s in prison. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
She gulps, drags in a breath, her eyes roaming my wet form. “You’re soaked.”
“It’s raining.” I shrug.
“Why did you get out of the limo if you were just going to walk here?” she asks.
Fidgeting, I looked behind her, wishing she’d invite me in. The whole conversation is making me uncomfortable, and if I’m honest, I’d like to skip this part now and hopefully tumble her into bed and make her scream with pleasure instead of sorrow. But Rose only eyes me expectantly, leaving me with no choice but to try and find a suitable response that won’t leave me looking like I’ve suddenly turned into a sap.
“Ashton’s my brother. I had to give him a chance to make things right. He shouldn’t have left you alone tonight.”
She smiles, opening the door wider. “How very noble. Are you my knight in shining armor?”
Smirking, a little of my old charm surfaces. “My armor isn’t shiny, Rose. It’s as black as my heart. But even darkness longs for the light and you, Rose, are the brightest star in the sky.”
Stepping forward, I grip her jaw and press my lips to hers—hard, demanding, and controlling the kiss—until she pulls away, gasping. Shaking her head, her breasts lift with each ragged intake of air. Her body reacts to me; I know that much, but tonight Rose’s heart is ruling and that’s bad news for me.
“I can’t do this, Gray. I care about you, but I love him.”
“I don’t care,” I rasp. I want to quench my thirst, have my fill of her and get her out of my system. I don’t want to feel like this anymore—wanting, needy, desperate. Those aren’t emotions a playboy should have and I’m the biggest player Albany has ever seen. Rose is ruining me, shattering the very fountain of who I am.
“I do,” she snaps. “I care, Grayson. And you may claim to be bad to the core, but I see you, and you deserve more.”
Not wanting to hear her words, I reach for Rose, but she steps out of my way.
“You said you’d give me whatever I need. And what I need is to go to bed and not be alone. I need you to hold me, Gray. I need you to keep my nightmares away.” Her gaze turns glassy as she speaks, her voice tight with the pain she’s attempting to keep at bay.
What am I doing? Holding out my hand, the smile that tugs my lips is sad. “Let’s go to bed then,” I whisper.
She eyes my hand, studies my face, uncertainty in her baby blues. “No funny business?”
Grinning, my voice turns low, seductive. “Only if you ask really, really nicely.”
Rose chuckles as she takes my hand and closes the door behind me, seeming relieved to have a little of the devilish me back. “You’re a pig, Gray.”
Nudging her in the side, we walk toward her bedroom. “Only for you, Devenport.”
“Keeley,” she answers quietly.
“What?”
We pause in her bedroom and Rose shuts her door and flicks the latch across before facing me. “My name is Rose Keeley, and it’s time I remembered that.”
Brushing her cheek with my knuckles, I study her face. It’s stupid how beautiful she is, even with makeup smudged down her face, and red, puffy eyes. I’ve never looked beyond the surface before, never bothered to even consider if the girls I slept with had a brain, a sense of humor, or troubles at home. They were always a means of escape. A quick fix. Pleasure, desire, greed. I wasn’t supposed to care; caring made things complicated and as I’m learning, it gets complicated fast.
What is it that makes you so different from the rest?
“Want to watch a movie, Keeley? I’ll even let you pick one of those sappy romances you love so much.”
She laughs. “To be honest, Grayson, I’m exhausted. Can we just go to sleep?”
“I’m easy.” I smirk.
She elbows me in the ribs. “I best find you a T-shirt. You can’t sleep in wet clothes.”
“I’ll sleep in my boxers,” I say. There’s no way I’m wearing her clothes.
Grinning, Rose heads for her walk-in closet. “You’re not sleeping near naked in my bed, Gray,” she throws over her shoulder.
“Why, afraid you’ll not be able to resist me?”
Returning, Rose eyes me pointedly. “I’m not answering that. And if you are really here for me and not your dick, you’ll put this on.” She slings a white T-shirt my way.
Snapping the white fabric midair, I hold up the article, surprised to find a plain white Nike tee. Looking up, I raise a questioning brow.
She shrugs. “It was my ex’s from London. For some reason, I packed it in the mad dash to leave for New York.” I’m not sure how I feel about that. She must read the indecision on my face because she adds, “I washed it about a week after arriving here, decided to stop being so pitiful and clinging onto the scent of a guy that ditched me the second the scandal broke.”
“He was a fool,” I reply, going to the buttons of my shirt and undoing them one by one.
Rose turns her back to me and pads across to her dresser, pulling some clothing out. “I’ll be in the bathroom. Back in a minute.”
Pulling my wet shirt off after unbuttoning it, I peel it from my skin and drop it to the floor, then unfasten my dress slacks and add them to the pile too. The tee’s over my head and I’m in her bed by the time she reappears in long pajama bottoms and an oversized T-shirt.
It’s strange seeing her like this, without armor, without the mask she must wear for survival, but it’s also nice, because I too can shed my skin. One I’ve worn for that long it’s nearly embedded permanently on my body. I can be this strange new person I’ve discovered inside me and not be afraid Rose will hurt me. It’s stupid; I shouldn’t trust, Rose. She’s played a wicked game—exposed my family’s dirty laundry and jeopardized my position at Albany Nightingale. But, at the end of the day, I trust her. More than I have anyone else in a very long time.
Climbing under her duvet, Rose shuffles over to me and we take a moment to gaze at each other.
“Thanks for coming. I was dreading going to bed alone,” she finally whispers, rolling over and facing away from me.
Wrapping my arm around her, I pull Rose closer, but as much as I’d like to plaster my body to hers, I keep a few centimeters between us. “It’s what friends are for,” I murmur.
“Is that what we are?”
Finding her hand, I squeeze. “Of course.”
Rose squeezes back, then drags in a shaky breath. “I miss him, Gray.”
Kissing her shoulder, I murmur my reply, “He misses you too.” I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say, or what she needs to hear, but it’s all I have to give. With Rose, I’m stumbling around in the dark, unsure, and as much as I hate the sensation, I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to give up the Gray that gets to call Rose his friend. And though a part of me was hoping I’d be ending the day tangled around sweaty limbs, there’s something far more magical about being trusted with a person’s pain.
And as Rose drifts off, her body slowly relaxing, I find
myself lodging the image of her to my memory, because I know all too well that joy always ends.
Chapter 21
Ashton
It takes all of two seconds for me to want to turn back. Rose’s sorrowful, longing expression is burned into the back of my eyelids. I wanted to go up with her more than anything. I wanted to kiss her heartache away and lavish her body with the affection it deserves, but I also didn’t want Rose to wake up in the morning and regret taking me into her bed. When we mend what’s been broken, I don’t want either of us to have any other reason to go to each other, other than the fact we love each other. No drama, no sorrow, no rage. Simply two people who crave each other like they crave their next breath.
Maybe it’s a fanciful notion. Maybe I’m the biggest idiot in the world. Maybe I should have Taylor turn the car around.
“We’re here, Mr. Cole.”
“Ashton,” I reply automatically as my gaze looks up at the hotel looming next to me.
“Sorry, Ashton,” Taylor replies.
But I’m not paying attention, I’m gazing at my building wishing it was Rose’s. Grayson walked home in the rain so I could take this opportunity to fix the bad blood between Rose and me. And I did. I can sense in my heart that some of the pain between us has been resolved, but should I have taken this night to fully close the space between us?
I should go back. I’m going back….
“Can I take you somewhere else, Ashton?” Taylor asks, meeting my gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Actually—” My phone pings in my pocket. “Hold that thought,” I mutter, retrieving my phone.
Josh – Mom’s up and asking after you. Are you going to be out much longer?
The sigh that leaves me is sad and defeated. This right here is why I can’t have a relationship with Rose. There’s no room in my life for her; I’m overwhelmed with responsibilities. My only priority should be making sure Josh has a secure future and Arthur Bishop gets what he deserves. If I let Rose in, if we fall from cautious friends into lovers, she’d consume me. She’ll be my every thought and right this second, I can’t afford to let that happen.
The Resurrection of Us: A High School Bully Romance (Albany Nightingale Duet Book 2) Page 10