Page 18 of Second Position (Astor Hill #2)

Grant

I watch Gen across the bar as she laughs at something Sloane is saying, her hair falling down her back in loose curls as she tilts her head up, her laugh louder and goofier than I would’ve thought.

As much as I despise Sloane’s meddling, I’m grateful she stole my phone and invited Gen.

I don’t know if I would’ve responded, otherwise.

I’ve handled enough disappointment for ten life times; I don’t want to handle anymore.

Don’t want to find myself in a place where I’m relegated to a choice—someone’s sometime or maybe.

And it’s easy to avoid, most of the time.

But Gen is…hard to stay away from. Even though she’s made it clear, time and time again, where her priorities lie.

It’s a useless battle, trying to keep my distance.

“So how did that happen?” Andy lets out a small laugh, watching me watch Gen.

I quickly avert my gaze back to the bartenders clamoring together lemon drops for the girls.

Gen insisted she wasn’t a big drinker but Sloane being Sloane convinced her to suck down a vodka soda and order a lemon drop.

She’s shaking her head wildly when I look again, her shoulders trembling, walls nowhere to be found.

Every time I look at her it’s like the first time, and I forget about all the ways she could hurt me.

“Not sure what you’re talking about,” I say before training my gaze back on her.

“I should’ve clocked it at the game,” he says, shaking his head, a grin plastered on his face as he takes a sip of his beer before nudging me. “I won’t say anything. Not my business.”

Andy is the closest thing Will has to a best friend outside of Gen, but he’s notoriously not messy.

He keeps his head down, does what he needs to do, and keeps everything surface, so I’m not shocked by his response.

There’s something about Andy—a goodness that isn’t apparent in the majority of the Astor crowd that has you trusting him. I nod, taking a pull from my beer.

The song changes to a vaguely familiar, older pop song and the energy in the room shifts.

I look back to where Sloane and Gen were just giggling and find the spot vacant.

My eyes trail the perimeter of the room, finding Gen in the center of it.

They’ve wound up on the dance floor, a small crowd forming around them as Sloane acts as a makeshift hype man, pumping her arms upward with insane fervor.

Gen’s head is thrown back in this laugh that steals my breath away, that dimple popping out on her right cheek.

She’s doing a twirl probably meant to compliment Sloane’s performance but the way she moves is too graceful to go unnoticed.

She grabs my sister's hands and they jump around, belting the words to the song with the rest of the crowd. It takes everything I have to tone down the grin that’s on full display across my face.

The lemon drops finally materialize and I throw some cash down as Andy carries them over to the girls.

I’m momentarily paralyzed, watching as Gen takes the shot, her eyes softly closing as the alcohol makes its way down her throat.

There’s the swallow, then the snap open of her eyes just before they lock with mine and my feet move before I have time to consider my actions.

Sloane’s distracted, teasing Andy on his choice of footwear as he tries every pick up line under the sun.

So I slide up behind Gen, my hands lightly gripping her hips, pulling her into me, and I feel the steady rhythm of her breath, feel her slowly melt into my chest.

We sway to the slower R&B song now playing, and I breathe her in the way I’ve imagined every time I close my eyes and end up dreaming of her.

I inhale, the soft vanilla scent of her enveloping me like a wave.

I get lost in the feeling of her against me, the smell of her clouding my every judgement.

Feeling her body bend towards mine, I lean down, my mouth hovering right by her ear.

“I didn’t know if you’d come.” I say it without realizing, the alcohol or Gen having me so transparent. She spins around in my hold, her arms looping around my neck as she looks up at me.

“I didn’t know if I would either.” Those hazel eyes peer up at me, thoughtful swirls of honey and amber.

“What changed?” I shiver against the brush of her fingers against the nape of my neck.

Her shrug is so slight, I almost miss it as we sway, and she sinks her teeth into lip in contemplation.

“I admitted to myself how much I wanted to.”

I don’t miss the way her throat bobs, and I know it must’ve taken a lot for her to admit that.

“Just all of sudden?” I challenge her, craving something tangible that’ll prove to me she’ll stay .

“No, I…I’ve been thinking about it. Since the game.” She pauses, shyness settling in her gaze. “You never texted me back.”

“Think you know why,” I tell her, watching her nod as her eyes fill with regret. “I thought you were in that tunnel for me,” I admit, my honesty tumbling out of me.

“You know I was,” she says, angling her face to better catch my gaze. “But I froze. I wasn’t thinking, I just saw you hit that guy and ran after you and I didn’t think about what would come next.”

I nod, raking my teeth over my lip as I let her excuse be enough for me.

“I think he knows,” she adds, the smallest sigh causing her shoulders to relax, and I know she means Will.

“And how does that make you feel?” I ask her, because as much as I can’t stand him, I know he’s important to her.

Know that there are…feelings. Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I said in the locker room, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to let him know that I am the threat he thinks I am.

“Worried,” she laughs, her breath shaky.

“Things are already rocky for him and I don’t want to add to any of it.

And then I’m annoyed that I care, because I feel really happy when I’m with you.

Like, I can’t remember feeling this… okay,” she says, the words almost tumbling over each other, and I pull her closer, breathing what she's saying in. “Why’d you hit him, Grant?” she finally asks, pulling back slightly. “You could’ve been suspended.”

I barely remember what he said, but I remember not being able to stop myself. The moment that guy’s eyes even slid to her, an alarm switched in me. And then he said whatever he said, and I lost it.

I let my hand cradle the delicate cut of her jaw the way I’ve imagined doing since the bonfire, trying to find a response that’s honest but doesn’t convey just how quickly my control is unraveling for her.

“He said something I didn’t like.”

“About?” she presses, and I huff a nervous laugh. And I don’t know why I feel like I’m standing on a ledge, but I do, my heart lodged high in my throat as I consider the speed at which my feelings for her are snowballing, definitely outpacing hers.

Someone brushes past us, makes extended contact with her side, but she never takes her eyes off me, just worries that bottom lip. The sight of it pulls the possessiveness I have for her out of me and I reaffirm the subtle grasp I have on her jaw, satisfied by the way she leans into it.

“You.”

A breath whooshes out of her, her chest deflating, before pulling one back in. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I’d do it again,” I don’t even hesitate to reply, because I would. There isn’t a scenario in which I would let someone disrespect her, whether she was there or not.

“Such a gentleman,” she whispers, her subtle grin easing my anxiety.

And then she pulls me down to her and the collision is electric.

Our tongues seek each other with slow intensity, brushing against one another in question.

It builds, the uncertainty falling away with every touch.

She leans into me and I almost shudder from the way we fit together.

One hand softly lands on my chest as she kisses me back, her tongue boldly gliding against mine.

I angle her the way I want her and deepen the kiss, suddenly needing to feel more of her, the rush of endorphins flooding my system like nothing I’ve felt—intoxicating and made specifically to drive me crazy .

And it’s just this kiss, with her. It’s just the feel of her skin beneath my hand, just the feel of her lips against mine, just the sounds she makes.

I feel her nip at my bottom lip, swirl her tongue around mine, and I meet her stroke for stroke, the room around us falling away.

The press of her body against mine deepens the desire already mounting in me as I feel her arch against me, her hand skating down my neck and to my shoulder.

I feel my way down the curve of her spine just as the song switches to an obnoxious EDM beat, Sloane’s voice coasting above it.

“Let’s do shots!”

She barrels between us, oblivious to what was just happening, grabbing Gen’s hand as she goes and dragging her toward the bar.

Gen steals a glance back at me, a wide smile now blooming across her face and I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me.

I trail them alongside Andy who seems just as amused by my sister’s antics.

“So I think Will is going to stop by,” Andy says as he pushes his hand through his hair. Gen is nursing a water and lightly leaning against my side, but as soon as she hears the mention of Will’s name she tenses.

“I should go. I have ballet in the morning and honestly it’s already pretty late.

..” she says, clearly wanting to avoid seeing Will.

The fact that she’s still concerned with what he’ll feel if he sees us together pisses me off, especially off the heels of a kiss I’ll never be able to stop replaying.

But then I remember just how petty Will Chapman gets when things don’t go his way.

Even more than before do I want to keep the knowledge of his immature bet away from Gen, and a bar feels like the exact place Will would be uninhibited enough to tell her.