Page 21

Lilly

I’m going to kill her.

I’m going to return her books so she doesn’t kill me, and then I’m going to kill her.

I knew it was a mistake asking to borrow her books for “research” purposes, and I should’ve guessed that they’d be like that. I mean she literally sent me porn videos with girls being tied up and told me not to knock it until I’ve tried it.

Newsflash, that’s never happening.

So it doesn’t come as a complete surprise to me that she reads books about girls riding knifes, but it still comes as a shock to me.

I should’ve read some of them before handing them to Greyson and then given him the more tamed ones. But I didn’t, and I regret that now. Because the scene of a girl riding a knife, that’s going to be embedded in his mind forever. I didn’t even read it, but I know it’s going to be embedded in my mind forever.

As I follow Greyson down the stairs, I pull my phone out to text her.

Me: What the fuck do you read?

Callie: Which book did you read???

Me: A knife????

Callie: Oh, hot.

Me: HOT?

Me: CALLIE!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

Callie: Calm down, it’s not like I gave you the one where he fucks her with a gun????

Callie: Without the safety on??

“A gun?” I voice out, mouth gaping.

“Huh?” Greyson looks back at me as he opens the door to the pantry.

“Nothing.” I shake my head.

That girl really has no boundaries, and I think I’m going to be traumatized for life when it comes to her. But to be fair, I’m used to it, and to her.

“So, we have sweet, salty, buttery…” He holds up three packets.

“All of them.” I respond.

I need sweet, salty, and buttery going through my veins to calm me down.

“All three?” He raises a brow.

“Yes, Greyson. All three.”

An d don’t judge me for it.

“Okay…” He nods, placing all three packets onto the kitchen island.

“Do you have a large bowl?” I ask.

“Uh…” He scratches the nape of his neck as he looks around. “Not sure, I don’t really spend much time in the kitchen, unless it’s to annoy Chase.”

Nodding, I walk around the island and rummage through the cupboards, which are more organized than I expected from four hockey boys living here. By the fifth cupboard I find a large bowl, place it on the counter and pour the packets in one by one.

Fuck, I love popcorn.

Slumping down on one of the chairs, I shove a handful into my mouth, moaning as I chew at it aggressively. What the hell am I going to do now? I can’t have him carry on reading those books, not when I don’t know what type of scenes will be happening in any of them. Or have happened in the one’s he’s already read.

Fuck! What else has he been traumatized with?

“In the other books you read, was there any…” how do I even put this “ adventurous scenes?” I ask, shoving more popcorn into my mouth.

“Well…” He says, popping a single popcorn into his mouth. “The third book I read, he um…”

“Spit it out, Greyson.”

It can’t be worse than a knife, or a gun…right?

“He held her head under the bath water while he fucked her from behind.”

“Holy fuck.” I gasp, bringing a hand to my mouth in shock.

When I said I was going to kill Callie, I’m not only going to kill her, but I’m going to bring her back to life and then kill her all over again. And I’m going to repeat that cycle a million times over until I’m satisfied.

And I’m also going to make her pay for both mine and Greyson’s therapy, because I think we’re gonna need it.

Grumbling incoherent things under my breath, I shovel more popcorn into my mouth to keep my mind occupied on something else. And then a thought springs to mind. “Greyson?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have a pen and paper close by?”

He nods, walking out of the kitchen and returning a minute later with a notepad and multiple pens. Placing them on the counter in front of me, I pick up a pen and begin writing.

“What are you writing?” He peers over my shoulder.

“Rules for fake dating.” I say, underlining the top with a squiggle.

“Right,” nodding his head, he walks over to the fridge. “Do you want a drink?”

“Uh, can you make me a coffee?” I ask.

“With this fancy new coffee machine Chase bought the other day?” He grins, pointing toward the large silver appliance. “I can try.”

“Did it not come with a user manual?”

“Uh, probably…” opening a drawer, he shifts through it until he pulls out the manual. “Bingo.” He grins, opening it.

Smiling, I turn my attention back to the piece of paper. “Rule number one,” I say, circling it. “We are not reading any more of the books Callie gave us.”

Turning to face me, he laughs and says. “Reasonable. ”

While he’s trying to figure out how to work the coffee machine, I start writing more rules down. “How do you feel about public PDA?” I ask, tapping the pen again my lip.

“Erm…” fumbling with something on the machine, he spins and lets out a puff. “Fucking in public? Hard pass.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “No, you idiot. Holding hands, hugging, kissing…you know, all that sort of stuff.”

“Oh,” he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

He turns toward the coffee machine again, and I glance down at the rules I’ve already written, pondering if there’s any obvious ones we need to set in place that aren’t already written. They all seem very reasonable, and—Fuck! I’m forgetting the most vital one.

“Oh, and no falling in love.” I say, triple circling that one.

“No falling in love?” He repeats.

“Exactly,” glancing at him, I smirk. “I mean, look at me,” I gesture dramatically to myself. “I know I’m irresistible, but we can’t have the lines blur.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he takes two mugs from the cupboard above his head. “Right, no falling in love…got it.”

Perching up in my chair, I lean my elbows on the counter. “I mean it, Greyson. The last thing we want is to complicate this. We can’t get caught up on something that has an expiry date.”

“Lil-Bug,” turning to face me, he places a hand on his hip. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I know how to follow rules.”

Chewing at a piece of popcorn, I nod. “Good.”

Smiling, he walks to the fridge. “Creamer?”

“Have you got hazelnut? ”

It’s not long before Greyson is pushing a mug of steaming coffee in my direction. Smiling at him, I pick it up and bring it to my lips, sighing once the taste of coffee hits my tongue.

“Oh, this is nice.” I beam, taking another sip.

“Call me a barista,” winking, he takes a seat beside me. “Actually, don’t…that might’ve just been beginners' luck.”

Laughing, I shovel more popcorn into my mouth and tap the pen against the counter as I try to think of more rules. Greyson grabs the paper and pulls it toward him, glancing down at what I’ve written so far and hums.

“Do you have any rules you want to add?” I ask.

Grabbing a pen from the counter, he writes down a few rules of his own. I peer over, watching as his veiny left hand holds the pen with a tight grip, and I have to clench my thighs because why the actual fuck do I find that attractive?

My phone vibrates on the counter knocking me from my Greyson trance. Picking it up, I laugh at the message.

Finley James: I hate everything sewage related.

Me: Did a pipe burst on you again?

Finley James: Ha! Not funny.

Me: LOL??

Me: I thought it was kind of funny…

Finley James: It’s worse.

Me: What could be worse than that???

Finley James: TWO PIPES.

Finley James: TWO.

Laughing, my fingers dance across the screen as I type a reply. “What’s got you laughing?” Greyson muses.

“Some guy from my journalism class,” I laugh, pressing send on the message. “He’s doing an assignment on the sewage system around campus, and last week a pipe burst on him.”

“No way,” he laughs. “I heard about that, apparently half of the Rosehill building was cornered off because of it.”

“Yeah,” I wince. “A few of them had to move dorm buildings because the—” I cut myself off as I glance up to see him leaned closer than I was expecting.

So close that I could see the tiny little freckles painted across his face. They’re so small that they’re only noticeable if you’re close to him like I am, and had I not been this close to him, I wouldn’t have known he had them.

My gaze wanders around his face, to his eyes that are bluer than the sky on a clear summer’s day, to high cheek bones, chiseled jaw, and then down to his lips. Oh, his lips . So plump, so kissable…and all I want to do is kiss him.

I find myself licking my own lips, stuck in a trance, admiring his beauty .

“Lilly?”

Blinking, my eyes lift to his. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Nodding, still slightly stuck in my trance, I swallow. “Can I kiss you?” I ask.

“Is this for practice?”

Sure…practice. Not because I want to feel your lips on mine. “Yeah.” I nod.

“Okay.”

Licking my lips one last time, I shift and lean forward. Grabbing the back of his head, I pull him toward me and connect our lips.

His hands find their way onto my cheeks, kissing me back hard, and rough. It feels like I’m floating on a cloud, like I’m high. But I wouldn’t even know how that felt because I’ve never taken a drug in my life.

He tastes of coffee, and popcorn—two of my favorite things, and I just can’t get enough. My tongue darts out, licking at his lower lip, begging for access. At first, he’s hesitant, but then he allows my tongue to slip through, and a low grumble escapes the back of his throat.

My hands grip his neck, pulling him closer. I need him closer. Want him closer.

How can a guy who’s only ever kissed one person before—said person being me—be this good?

When we finally pull apart, breathless, and gasping for air, he rests his forehead against mine, our breaths mixing together. My chest heavens up and down, and when I open my eyes, I see he’s already looking at me.

A swarm of butterflies erupt in my stomach.

My eyes glance from his eyes to his lips, and back. Leaning in, I’m so close to connecting our lips again, but the sound of the front door opening has us pulling apart quicker than ever.