Page 40

Lilly

I’m meant to be preparing the last of the article before Lakelyn and I need to submit it in the morning, but instead I’m sitting at my desk watching Greyson through the small mirror I’d deliberately positioned to stare at him.

I don’t know how long I’ve been staring, too long. But I can’t help it.

I’ve never really taken into consideration how attractive he is, yeah, I always found him good looking, but as I’m staring at him now, I’m seeing him in a different light.

I’ve always been attracted to blonds, hence Kyle. But Greyson is the complete opposite of Kyle, in more ways than one.

Greyson was the epitome of attractiveness, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, ever. His dark brown hair has grown over the last few weeks, and it was long enough now to fall across his forehead and into his eyes, something I knew he hated because I’ve see him on several occasions shoving the fallen pieces away from him with a huff.

I liked the length it was at currently , it gave me the perfect amount to tug onto while he finger fucked my pussy and ate me out, something that’s happened twice since Thanksgiving.

I just couldn’t get enough of him.

And oh fuck, he was perfect at it.

I could already feel the jealousy building up inside me, dreading the inevitable end between us. I knew the way his lips felt on mine, how they fucking felt eating me out. And call me selfish, but I didn’t want anyone else to experience that.

I didn’t want them to witness what we shared—the kisses and everything else. I wanted to be the only person to witness everything Greyson Montgomery had to offer.

We weren’t forever —I have to keep reminding myself this every time my heart skips a beat when I see him.

Because my fucking heart seems to think he’s the one, that he’s staying. And now my mind is starting to believe it too. Honestly, it’s a cruel trick, this hope that’s creeping in and making me believe in something that’s not meant to last.

I’m a big believer in love, I fucking adore love. But I need to be realistic here, what’s happening between Greyson and me isn’t love…but why is it starting to feel like that?

“I can feel you staring.” His laughter jolts me from my thoughts.

I see him looking at me in the mirror, his head tilted to the side with a smile on his face. And that makes my cheeks flush, embarrassed that I’d been caught staring.

“How are your hands now?” I ask, standing up and walking toward the side of the bed where he’s sitting.

It’s been a little over a week since he and Kyle fought, a nd they’ve healed quicker than I expected. I’ve seen Kyle around campus numerous times, sporting a black eye and a busted lip. Nothing he didn’t deserve though. He tried to kiss me, even after I told him to fuck off and leave me alone. He still had the audacity to try and kiss me.

“They’re good,” he looks down at them, twisting them to show me. “I had a good nurse to nurse them back together.” He winks.

My cheeks flush again.

Why is he making me nervous?

I never get nervous, yet since Thanksgiving—maybe even before then—anytime I’m with him my stomach flips into a bundle of nerves.

He’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before, and when I look into those gorgeous blue eyes of his, it’s like I’m seeing my future with him. And I need to stop.

“Hey, you want to go get some popcorn?” I ask.

Lame, I know. But I feel like if we stay in the confines of my room for a second longer then I’m gonna want to rip his clothes off and make him fuck me.

And Greyson is not ready for that yet.

Am I even ready for that? If he’s perfect at fingering me, and eating me out…will he be the same with fucking me? and if he is, how am I going to risk letting him go?

He tilts his head looking at me amused. “Uh, sure?”

“Great!” I grin. “Let’s go.” I don’t bother waiting for his reply as I open my bedroom door and walk down the hallway to the kitchen.

I hear his soft footsteps on the wooden floor behind me as I reach down into the cupboard, pulling out a sleeve of popcorn and stand as “Heavenly” by Cigarettes After Sex plays on the little portable speaker, creating a soothing backdrop.

Glancing up, I see him leaning casually against the counter…right in front of the microwave where I need to be.

Awkwardly clearing my throat, I gain his attention and gesture down to the sleeve of popcorn in my hand and then up at the microwave.

He chuckles before moving an inch to the left. A fucking inch.

I’m trying to put a little distance between us because whenever he’s close, like this close, my heart races and my first instinct is to kiss him.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch the countdown on the microwave, trying my hardest to ignore Greyson’s gaze on the side of my face.

We’re fake dating—emphasis on the “fake” and I need to stop fantasizing about kissing him, about tearing his clothes off. And most importantly, I need to get myself in check.

“Come here.” He says, grabbing my hand and dragging me until I’m standing before him.

I grip at his biceps, steadying myself as his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer.

This is exactly what I didn’t want, because every time I’m in his arms like this, I melt into him. I feel safe around him, and that’s just going to make this more painful for me when this ends.

The thought of not having him there when I need him, the thought that he’s going to be comforting some other bitch—I’m jealous. It’s not even happened yet, and I’m fucking jealous. Seething to say the least.

Why the fuck am I even envisioning it?

“What’s going on inside this head of yours?” He chuck les, tapping his forefinger against the side of my head.

Blinking, I shake my head from the thoughts circling in my brain and lift my head to look at him. And what a mistake that was. The way he’s looking at me is making my stomach erupt with an explosion of butterflies, and I want nothing more than to get on my knees and beg him to have my children.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Nothing.” Just thinking about a future that’ll never happen.

“You look annoyed, did I do something to annoy you?”

“No.” You’re perfect, too fucking perfect.

“Are you sure?” He squeezes at my hips.

“Yep,” I squeak, a little too quickly. “Positive.”

“Definitely?”

I chuckle before doing something stupid. Something I told myself I need to stop doing.

I fucking kiss him.

And I’m pissed at myself because kissing him is starting to become one of my favorite things to do.

The kiss is anything but gentle. It’s raw, intense, and filled with a desperate longing that leaves me breathless. My fingers weave through his hair, pulling him closer, and I can’t help but groan as his tongue twirls around mine, igniting a fire deep within me.

And then it’s ruined by an awkward coughing coming from behind us.

I move away from Greyson like my body is on fire, and my cheeks tinge pink from being caught.

Callie opens the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and then turns to f ace us. “Having fun?” She smirks as she glances between the two of us.

My finger inches to my ear lobe, pulling at it nervously. “We were just practicing.” I lie.

She chuckles under her breath. “Sure, if that’s what you want to tell yourself.”

“No, honestly, we were!”

Who am I kidding?

“And I’m in love with Chase.” She deadpans.

“Wait, you are?” Greyson gasps.

She snorts and I shake my head. “She’s being sarcastic.” I tell him.

“I don’t understand.” He looks at me, confusion written across his face.

“Are we not playing a game about who can come up with the most ridiculous lie?” She muses, leaning her hip against the kitchen door.

I shoot her a glare. I hate how she’s the one person who can see through my bullshit, and she’s not afraid to call me out on it—even if it’s making subtle hints.

“Well, I’m off to work,” she says, taking a step back. “Oh, and by the way…” She glances between the two of us. “The popcorn was done five minutes ago, but I suppose you were both too engrossed in your practicing to notice.”

Kill me now.