Page 4 of Second Position (Astor Hill #2)

I know he can tell something is up, because I’ve spoken to him alone only a handful of times.

He stands there, his patience both surprising and unnerving, as I consider the next words out of my mouth.

Because maybe Jean’s right—maybe I do need to stop waiting around for Will to notice me, a notion that’s starting to sound more pathetic the longer I do.

“Having fun?” I ask him, immediately wishing I could pull the inane small talk back into my mouth.

“Uh, sure…” He squints at me, clearly pondering if this is why I called him over.

I nod my head, not really knowing what to say next. I’m not an awkward person. Years of performing in front of hundreds of people basically prepares you for anything. But clearly nothing prepared me for Grant.

“So… what are you doing after this? Like do you have plans or…” I inwardly cringe, hoping Jean was right about the way Grant looks at me, but commit. The last thing I am is a quitter.

“Are you trying to ask me out?” he asks, confusion clouding his face.

“What?” I squeak, scoffing in disbelief. Then I remember that I am trying to ask him out, in a way, and I just know I’m blushing. “Would it be weird if I was?”

He processes this in slow motion, clearing his throat and adjusting his gaze, like he’s just put on glasses. “It would feel… kind of left field.” He leans forward, like he’s telling a secret only I should hear. “I don’t know if you know this but—you don’t like me.”

“ You don’t like me !” I feel like a child, just as petulant, and kind of backed into a corner. This is not going how I very briefly imagined it, but something about the low chuckle he lets out invites me to take a deep breath in. I swallow, forcing myself to be brave .

“You watch me,” I challenge him, boldness now replacing any embarrassment I could be feeling. His smirk catches me off guard, amused rather than ashamed from having been caught.

“Hard not to when you’re murderin’ people with those eyes.”

Those eyes sends a shiver down my spine, and I stand up a little straighter.

“Murdering is a strong word, but I guess maybe you don’t know many others.”

“You have an interesting way of asking people out, Genevieve.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, and the motion makes him taller somehow. I can tell he’s fighting a grin.

“Is it working?” I peer up at him through my lashes, shocked to find the very thing Jean swore he saw—lust. Desire. Something hot and liquid in his gaze as he stares down at me. It’s laced with all the familiar things—skepticism, hesitance, judgement—but I finally see the lust.

I watch as he wets his lips, considering how to answer, and I feel molten inside. Would his gaze have always had this effect on me, if only I’d looked long enough?

“Maybe.” If smoldering was real, and not just something Disney princes could do with the help of expert illustrators, then he’d be smoldering and I’d be feeling hotter by the second.

“Does this mean you’re free?”

“Right now?” He blinks a few times, like he misunderstood something. “Wait, are you asking me to hookup with you?”

I sigh, realizing I have to literally spoon feed him. “Yes Fielder, I’m asking you if you would like to have sex with me. ”

His eyes widen as he lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, the movement strangely fueling my attraction to him. He gives me a quizzical look as if he’s trying to solve a riddle.

It’s at this moment that I realize Grant is actually committed to his whole good boy persona far more than I thought, and that I would have to do more than flutter my eyelashes to get him to do this. This would’ve been so much easier with Andy.

“I just want to hook up. Have sex. Nothing else. Isn’t that, like, preferable anyway?” My words tumble out of me, my tone verging on begging, and I don’t miss the amusement flitting through his guarded eyes.

“Why?”

“I mean, I just assumed you operate that way with most of the gi?—”

“No, why do you just want to hook up?” He scrutinizes my face, like he’ll find an answer before I can give him one. “And with me?

I cross my arms, trying to weave a lie that gets me what I want but doesn’t reveal the truth, but I just can’t find one. I glance around, making sure no one is listening.

“Because I am…” I pause, asking myself if I can trust him not to use this against me. And despite his clear judgement of me, it’s the way he treats everyone else that convinces me he won’t. “Because I never have. I’m a virgin.”

“Right,” he says, his face unchanged, and I know my assumption back at the fire was correct—he did, in fact, see right through me. “So you just?—”

“Yes, I lied . Obviously. So you can’t tell anyone because if Will?— ”

His scoff grates against me, disdain replacing any amusement previously gracing his face. “Yeah, I got it.”

“So will you help me?”

“You mean will I fuck you to spite him?” There’s an edge to his tone, one that makes my heart beat a little faster.

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t it?” The old smirk is back, the judgmental one, and I want to wipe it off his face, bring the new, heated one back.

“ No ,” I only somewhat lie. “Why are men the only ones allowed to want sex for momentary pleasure? Maybe I just don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

I watch his molars grind, watch as his jaw flicks as he teeters on the verge of answering. I feel close, so close to getting this thing I didn’t know I wanted twenty minutes ago. But I’m too far in to back out now.

“Scott was in the running, you should know.”

“You actually hate Scott,” he says in disbelief. “And there’s a list?”

I hitch a shoulder up. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” I look just past him at nothing, pretending to see Scott, and wave. “Oh, there he is now. Scott!” I shout, only because he’s nowhere in sight.

Grant curses under his breath, lightly grasping my raised arm and lowering it to my side, his touch sending a shiver through me and I know I’ve got him.

“Don’t you dare ask Scott,” his voice almost rumbles, and I have to bite down on my lip to distract myself from the way it makes me feel. “Why me?”

I try hard to think of a reason that isn’t because I’m incredibly attracted to you even though you disdain the company I keep .

“Why not?” I don’t drop my gaze from his when I say it, leaning into every implication he could be imagining, and watch the faintest hint of crimson creep up his neck.

“I’ll text you,” he says, like he suddenly has places to be.

“Or… we could just get this over with now. I have a car, I think you have a car…”

“I’m not sleeping with you, for the first time, in a car, Genevieve.”

He says my name like a reprimand, the dominance in his tone sending an excited chill through me.

I roll my eyes, shaking it off. “Fine. Do you have, like, a general day or time…?” I ask, trying my best to make this seem casual. Because this is casual, despite how colossal it feels in my stomach.

“Sometime next week.” His smirk says it all, like he can tell how eager I suddenly am and he’s going to enjoy torturing me by stringing this out. “You’ve waited a lifetime… what’s a few more days?”

“Fine.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to stifle the smile I feel erupting. Whether it’s from the fact that I set out to do this and I succeeded, or because the idea of sleeping with Grant has excited anticipation kicking up in my gut, I’m not entirely sure.

But after next weekend, I will no longer be a virgin. And that feels awfully loaded for me in the best way.

“I should go find Jean,” I say, realizing I’ve been smiling like an idiot for far too long.

Grant’s expression tells me he knows exactly what role Jean played in all of this. His lips quirk, the subtlest hint of amusement there. “Yeah. Probably should.”

My lips press together as I stifle another smile, making my way to the massive cooler housing the water bottles. There's an undeniable giddiness to me, an almost too obvious spring in my step. Did I just organize a literal booty call ?

I feel my cheeks heat, unable to stop the thought of Grant’s hands sliding onto my body from taking shape as I dig through the array of drinks.

I’m just registering the way my stomach feels like it’s fluttering into my throat when I glance back up and am met with the sight of Will and Olivia making out under a tree not too far from the one Grant and I were just under.

I can feel the wind literally leave my sails as I’m launched back to reality and the reason why I even put myself up to this ridiculous task.

I force myself to take a long drink from the icy water bottle and wonder how this part of me, the one sitting at the edge of my proverbial seat over the idea of hooking up with Grant Fielder , can coexist with the part of me that waited so long to do just that thing with Will.