Page 25 of Things I Wish I Said

Chapter sixteen

GRAYSON

I flick the ash off the tip of my cigarette while I sit on Kip’s doorstep, trying to forget the feel of Sinclair’s lips against my own. An hour ago, I decided it’s a lost cause. Even Hannah’s endless droning on about her plans for the summer aren’t enough to burn the memory from my brain.

I shake my head and take another drag of the cigarette, wishing for something stronger, once again drawn back to thoughts of Ryleigh. The feel of her smooth skin hot beneath my fingertips, her sweet scent, the taste of her lips.

I never should’ve gone there with her

Add it to the list of ways I’ve fucked up.

I slide my phone from my pocket and note the time as Hannah blabs on about how sad she’ll be when everyone parts ways for the fall while I picture Sinclair’s stricken face after I left her.

The thought of her standing alone on the dance floor or aimlessly wandering around the party looking for a familiar face tears my stomach to shreds.

Which is precisely the problem .

The last thing I need is to get attached to someone else who will leave.

Maybe the kiss was a wake-up call.

Either way, leaving her was a dick move. She’s in a strange house with no friends, and no idea how the hell to even get home. I need to find her, tell her I’m sorry.

I stub my cigarette out on one of the concrete steps as I try to come up with a way to bail on Hannah without being a complete and utter asshole.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?”

I glance over to find her staring.

I take in her clear blue eyes and the way her hair shines under the moonlight.

Hannah is hot, no doubt about it. Most guys my age would jump at an opportunity to hook up with her, but as my gaze scans over her right now, I find her lacking.

Everything about her is too perfect, a little too artificial, and I can’t seem to find the appeal.

I clear my throat. “Sorry, I uh, I’m a little distracted, aren’t I?” I scratch my jaw and offer her a soft smile she returns with one of her own.

“Just a little.” Hannah nudges my shoulder. “Listen, Grayson, I know what you said the night at the lake about not wanting anything serious, but I like you. I really like you. And I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy, but I think we could have something.”

Shit. I should’ve known this was coming .

Okay, maybe I did know this was coming, but I suppose I hoped I’d been pretty clear about my intentions, and by avoiding her, she’d get the hint.

I rack my brain for a way out of this without being an asshole and momentarily contemplate using Ry as my excuse.

But then I remember how I abandoned her, and I have no idea what she’s been doing in the time between then and now. For all I know, she’s hooking up with another guy this very moment.

The thought doesn’t sit well with me, and I have to ask myself why the fuck that is. I barely even know her, so why the hell does she have me all tangled up in knots?

I spear a hand into my hair, deciding I better just say it. “I like you too, Hannah, I do, but I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“It doesn’t need to be serious, Grayson. I’m willing to take it as slow as you need.”

“And I appreciate that, but—”

“How about we go out? Tonight. Right now.” Hannah turns so she’s fully facing me, her eyes as bright as the moon. “Let me show you I can be casual by spending time with me, and at the end of the night, if you still feel like I’m asking for more than you can handle, I’ll walk away.”

“I can’t just leave. I came with Ryleigh and I need to take her home. Besides—”

“Oh, right!” Hannah slaps a hand over her mouth. “I almost forgot,” she mumbles beneath her palm .

“Almost forgot what?” I frown.

“We caught up in the bathroom, Ryleigh and I. Sweet girl, actually.”

The hell?

“Anyway, she told me to tell you she found a ride home.”

“She what ?” I yell.

Hannah flinches, clearly startled by my outburst, but I can’t find it in me to care.

Anger spikes in my veins at the thought of Ryleigh getting a ride home from some random dude. Or worse, someone who’s been drinking.

Shit. What if she’s been drinking since I left her?

Why the fuck did I leave?

Any number of things run through my head as I get to my feet. “I need to find her.”

Hannah stands beside me, her brow furrowed.

“She didn’t say who she was riding with?”

“Uh, no.” She shakes her head. “She didn’t say.”

I start to leave when Hannah grips my arm. “Grayson, wait!”

Shoving down my impatience, I turn my thunderous gaze on her.

“She’s a smart girl, and it’s just a ride home. I’m sure she’ll be—”

“She won’t be fine,” I snap, suddenly sure it’s true as my feet begin to move.

She came with me. She’s supposed to leave with me. And I’m a fucking asshole for leaving her because of something I did .

I couldn’t control myself for more than a couple hours in her presence. Couldn’t handle a little grinding on the dance floor without wanting to jump her bones.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I round the house and step into the backyard where I begin my search. It’s every bit as crowded as it was when we parted ways, and I spend the next ten minutes searching for her, only to come up empty.

I check the dance floor, the keg, and the beer pong table, stopping to ask everyone I see on my way if they’ve noticed the chick with the black cutoff shorts and the Nike baseball cap, but of course, no one has seen her.

Panic claws at my chest with every passing minute her whereabouts remain unknown.

What if she already left? What if something happens?

I imagine having to tell her mother I don’t know where she is.

I imagine her getting into the wrong vehicle.

Someone taking advantage of her.

There are a million things that could go wrong, all of them my fault.

I rake my hands through my hair, trying to get a handle on my rising emotions when I spot Cameron emerging from a crowd of guys I recognize from school.

“Thank fuck,” I say, closing the gap between us. “I need your help.”

Cameron’s smile fades. “With what? ”

“Ryleigh. Do you know where she is?”

“Yeah. I was just with her.”

I sigh, relief sweeping through me. “Oh, thank God.”

“Is everything okay?” he asks, with a frown.

“Yeah, sure.” I drag a hand over my face. “I’m just being stupid. Did she say anything to you about taking a ride from someone?”

His face splits into a grin. “I’m giving her a ride home.”

My stomach tightens at the sparkle in his eyes.

Cameron can be a clown sometimes, but he’s a good dude.

He was there for me as much as a person could be when my father got sick.

He’s close to his family, a good friend.

Ryleigh would be in good hands with him, but something about the way he’s beaming at the mention of her name has my hackles rising.

“You’re driving her home?” I choke out.

He shrugs, his smile dimming a little. “Yeah.”

I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. Cameron driving Sinclair home sits as well with me as fucking knife to the throat. “How did that happen?”

Cameron frowns and holds his hands up. “Hey, man. She said you weren’t together. You know I would never step on your toes.” He shakes his head. “She said you were with Hannah.”

I say nothing, grinding my teeth and turning my molars to dust as I wait for common sense to prevail.

“Were you with Hannah just now?” he asks in the silence.

“What the fuck does that matter? ”

“It doesn’t. It’s just Ryleigh’s a nice girl, and I don’t wanna see—”

“You think I don’t know she’s a nice girl?”

Cameron drops his hands, sliding them into his pockets. “I don’t know what you think anymore, man, but if you’re not with her, I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m interested.”

“You don’t even know her.” I scoff.

“I know enough to know I’m interested,” he shoots back.

“Where is she?” I grind out.

I don’t want to entertain the idea of him with her, just like I don’t want to entertain why I’m so opposed to the idea.

With a sigh, Cameron turns and walks a few steps before motioning to a lounge chair. “She’s right over . . .”

His expression slackens as he glances around us. “She was over here. I just went to tell Trent we were leaving.”

“You lost her?” I have zero right to be pissed when I was the one to abandon her in the first place, but I need someone to take my frustration out on, and he’s the easiest target.

“Seriously?” he snaps. “You’re mad at me? I’m not the one who left her.”

I should be pissed at him calling me out, but I’m not because it’s true . . . and because something inside the house beyond where he’s standing catches my eye.

My gaze focuses over his shoulder into the house where I spy Sinclair, crouched down in front of someone on the ground. Another girl?

The hell ?

I start for the door as Cameron calls out behind me, but I’m too focused on whatever I’m seeing inside Kip’s house to answer.

Ryleigh straightens, bringing the girl with her as recognition hits me square in the chest. It’s Bridgette—Dustin’s girlfriend.

My mouth goes dry as I note blood trickling from the skin below her eye, and then I see him. Dustin.

He steps closer to Ry as she straightens her shoulders, like she’s squaring off against him with Bridgette at her back.

Fear curdles my blood as I realize what she’s doing—blocking him from Bridgette.

My feet move, taking the wide expanse of the yard in several large strides.

I reach the French doors and wrench them open. She’s saying something to him. I know because I can see her mouth moving, but I can hear nothing over the roaring in my ears.

I step inside at the same time Dustin lunges for Bridgette, but Ry blocks him. He grabs her arm, squeezes, and Ryleigh cries out.

“Get the fuck off her!” I roar.

Turning, Dustin releases her, a sneer curling his lips. “The mouthy bitch is yours, De Leon? Tell your stupid cunt of a girlfriend to mind her own fucking business.”

“What did you say?” I seethe.