Page 10 of Things I Wish I Said

Chapter seven

GRAYSON

I pull up to our usual spot at the lake. It’s hot and muggy with the threat of rain, not yet dark but the light is fading fast. I park my car in the shadows of the trees and turn off the ignition.

I light up, taking a long drag of my joint, and hold the smoke in my lungs, relishing the burn before releasing it. Even from here, I can make out the faces of my friends. There are more than a dozen people lounging on towels in the gritty sand, drinking beer, and splashing in the water.

It’s what an eighteen-year-old who just graduated high school probably should be doing with their time, but as I watch them from a distance, I feel like an outcast. I’m not like them anymore.

There’s not a carefree bone in my body unless I’m high or drunk off my ass, and watching their easy demeanor and wide smiles makes me want to turn right back around and leave.

I never should’ve come.

I don’t belong here with them anymore.

Unsure of whether to stay or go, I recline in my seat, staring up at the roof of my car as I finish my smoke.

Twenty minutes later, I’m significantly more relaxed than when I arrived.

So much so, the thumping noise outside my car doesn’t even faze me as I sit up and glance through the windshield to find Cameron squatting on the hood of my car.

He taps the glass in front of me with a dumbass grin on his face.

“Hey, motherfucker!” I yell through the pane of glass. “This is a fucking i8. Get the hell off!”

Cameron makes a kissy face, then leaps off the hood of my car.

Even through the calming haze of hash, I want to strangle him.

“Come on, sunshine,” he says outside my door now. “Stop smoking that smelly-ass shit and get your ass out here.”

With a sigh, I pinch the end of my blunt and drop it in my pocket, then grab my baseball cap off the seat next to me and slide it on before I step out.

“Hey, man. Glad you came.” We slap hands and make our way toward the waterfront where I greet several guys all lingering around a cooler stocked with beer. “Take a good look, boys. I know you don’t remember, but this here is our old friend, Grayson.”

I roll my eyes. “Fuck off.”

“I thought I recognized you,” Trent says, pointing.

Beside us, a group of chicks from Lincoln High eye me from their towels, and when I tip my chin at them, they turn to each other and giggle .

“Of fucking course.” Cameron rolls his eyes. “Now that you’re here, we’ll all be going home with blue balls.”

“Just don’t get too fucked up. We need you actually present at the game tomorrow,” Trent says.

“I was present today,” I say, accepting the beer Cameron hands me.

“Uh, your body was there, but I’m not sure I’d call you present,” Trent argues.

“Let’s see,” Cameron says as he counts off on his fingers.

“First, you groaned through the first couple of innings while holding your skull like a little bitch so Coach wouldn’t put you in.

Second, once he did put you in, you managed to get through an inning by the skin of your teeth, then when we finally really needed you at the plate, you struck out watching. ”

“The ump was an ass,” I say with a shrug.

Cameron rolls his eyes. “Right. The ump was the problem. Just like the last game when you got kicked out.”

“Whatever. You’re all here drinking, aren’t you?”

“The difference is we’ll quit after a few, whereas you’ll leave and get fucked up with Dustin and his crew.”

“I’ll be fine, okay?” I snap, knowing I sound as defensive as I feel.

“Whatever you say, man.” Cameron raises his hands in surrender.

“Hey, Grayson,” a soft voice trills behind me.

All heads swing toward the sound to find Hannah Waters standing beside us, her long, tanned legs on full display in her short skirt and crop top. Blonde hair spills over her shoulders and down her back as her bright green eyes meet mine, and I lick my lips. “Hey, Han.”

“Where have you been hiding lately?”

“In the back seat of Dustin’s Chevy.” Trent snickers behind me, and I flip him the bird.

“I’ve been busy.” I shrug. “Baseball. Training. You know how it is.”

She hums under her breath. “Yeah. You’re going to George Mason in the fall, right?”

I nod. “That’s right.”

Assuming I don’t fuck it up.

“Funny. So am I.”

“Is that so?”

She tilts her head, playing coy as she nods, and I instantly know how my night will end. Women are one of the three things that help me block out my dark thoughts.

Reaching into the cooler, Hannah grabs a bottle of water, her crop top barely covering anything as she bends down.

“Damn,” Cameron mutters behind me.

I bite my lip, watching as she straightens again and lifts the bottle, taking a long pull of her drink, a bead of condensation rippling over the surface of the plastic before falling to her chest. She caps the bottle and bats her eyelashes.

“Well, I’ll leave you boys to it, but you know where to find me.

” She winks, then turns, giving me a stellar view of her ass .

“You know where to find me, Graysie-poo,” Cameron mocks. “That girl wants to ride you so hard. Lucky bastard.”

I smirk, unable to deny it. Hannah has been after me the better part of the year, but I don’t do commitments, only easy, no-strings hookups, and something tells me Hannah wants strings. But after my meeting with Ryleigh, I’m feeling itchy, restless. A distraction wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“Maybe. But I’m not looking to get into anything right now.”

“Dude,” Trent says. “Were you watching the same girl I was just now?”

I shrug.

“You’re going to the same college, man. You could have a steady hookup if you want it.”

“And when she decides she no longer wants casual?” I arch a brow in his direction.

“Then cut and run. But I can think of a hell of lot worse things than being regular fuck buddies with Hannah Waters. Hell, I’d give my left nut for her to use me as her own personal sex toy.”

I snort. “You’re twisted.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“I don’t doubt it, but that chick has high-maintenance written all over her.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, Hannah shimmies her skirt down her thighs, revealing long, toned legs in a string bikini bottom that’s more thong than anything .

Cameron bites his fist while Trent grunts and says, “If high maintenance looks like that, then it’s underrated.”

I snort. “Y’all going to Kip’s party Friday night?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I don’t know, man. Didn’t the cops bust up his last one?” Cameron frowns.

“Wasn’t there, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Sure ya weren’t.” Trent rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Suit yourself.”

“I assume you’re going? Which means your ass will either be drunk or hungover for our tourney?”

I don’t answer because I had planned on going, which means he’s probably right.

I can sense Cameron and Trent’s frustration with me. I’d have to be blind not to see it. I’ve been a shit friend and an even shittier teammate.

I wonder how long they’ll stick around before they bail entirely.

“You do realize if you’d been like this last year, George Mason never would’ve recruited you, right?” Cameron asks.

Leave it to him to bust my chops. “Are you my mommy now?”

“I remember a time when you watched your macros and protein intake. You took all the supplements. Did everything right. Nothing went into your body that wouldn’t fuel your game,” Trent says .

“Yeah, well . . .” I drain the rest of my beer, then turn and chuck it into the nearby trash can with a thunderous clang, then grab another and crack it open. “That kid is gone,” I say, already moving.

“What are you—” he starts, then stops when he sees where I’m headed. “Thatta boy,” he calls out as I close the gap between us and the girls. “Don’t forget to bag that shit! You might be high as a kite, but I’m too young to be an uncle, Daddy De Leon.”

I flip him the bird to a chorus of laughter.

I should feel guilty about the fact that the only reason I’m lowering myself to the towel beside a beaming Hannah is to evade the third degree from my friends, but I don’t wanna hear it despite how right they are.

The truth is a hell of a lot harder to swallow than a lie.

Dusk settles over the lake in a swatch of pinks and blues.

Most of my friends are playing beach volleyball while I watch from my perch beside Hannah, trying to keep my thoughts in the present but failing.

I haven’t had near enough to smoke or drink to stop them from drifting to my mother. The wish. Ryleigh.

Suddenly, I wish I would’ve taken Dustin up on his offer to tag along while they dealt tonight. The risk of getting caught pales in comparison to thinking about a girl I barely know whose cancer fucked her life up .

Needing a distraction, I turn to Hannah who smiles slyly back at me, her bright green eyes dropping to my mouth.

She bites her lip, and I know what she’s waiting for, so I lean in and take her mouth with mine.

I feel nothing at the contact. No spark.

No fire. But that doesn’t stop me as I slide my hands up her sides, palming her tits as she moans.

“I can’t be in a relationship right now,” I murmur against her mouth.

She leans back, grinning up at me as she fists a hand in my shirt and tugs me closer. “And?”

And I don’t know if you’re one of those chicks who says she understands but thinks she can change my mind .

“I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“I can do casual,” she says, returning to my mouth.

I reach up and turn my baseball cap backward, so I can sink into her.

My hand rakes through her long, blonde locks, tasting her and the fruity sweetness of the spiked punch she’d switched to on my tongue.

There may not be anything special here, but desire unfurls inside me anyway.

Her kiss slows, her lips lingering as she whispers, “You wanna get out of here?”

So I can shut my brain down for a couple of hours getting lost in a chick? Hell yes. It’s the only thing other than trouble that seems to ease the constant fist in my chest.

But I don’t answer right away .