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Grayson throws his arm around my shoulder and leans in. His lips graze my temple, evidence that he’s had his share of keg beer and laughs. “Take me home, Emma.”

  Ha. If he had any clue.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Senior Year…

  Emma

  A million middle-of-the-night conversations passed through our adjoining air vent as I lay on my bed and my sister Cherry did the same in her room. She used to tell me secrets through the slats while we knocked our heels against the wall and chatted in the dark.

  I’m sure our deep giggles were broadcast to the entire house. They probably gave our folks heart failure because, even when Cherry was a kid, she was a handful. Mom would come up and tell us to go to bed. Dad would come up and tell us to stop scuffing the walls—but then he’d tuck us in. Twenty seconds later, we’d be on our backs again, feet in the air, knocking and scuffing and telling secrets.

  When Cherry left for college, everything changed. I lost my sounding board. She might be three years older, but she was my confidant. I saw the world vicariously through her eyes. She never had a negative outlook on life, never thought she wasn’t the center of attention, but she always held my hand, doling out amazing, albeit unconventional advice. I really miss her.

  Lying on my back with Grayson on my mind, I look at the vent and knock my heels against the wall, trying to imagine what Cherry would say about the debacle at lunch today—

  Knock, knock.

  I turn my head, and there’s my problem. In the span of a second, my languid musings about my festering crush are replaced by the slow mind-meld that is Grayson Ford.

  “Hey, Gray.” I swear, each day he grows bigger, and his eyes become more vibrant. All he does is work out. Baseball season is about over, yet he’s training like he’s eyeing the Olympics. I don’t get it, but I’m able to appreciate the benefits of his grueling regimen.

  “Hey, you. We’ve gotta talk.”

  My stomach drops as I swallow the burst of lust that I’ve become accustomed to when he shows up. I sit up from probably the most unattractive position: legs up, head down, kicked back on my bed. Or maybe it’s the most provocative, if I were the provocative type. I wish I were.

  His eyes track my legs to my face. I really shouldn’t lie upside down if there’s even the slightest chance he’ll show up. A fire heats up my neck and into my cheeks. I don’t have a clue about the type of flirting that would be in Gray’s league. When it comes to him, I’m an expert on unrequited desire. Perks of being just a friend…

  “You ran out of school today like your ass was on fire.” He bounds a couple huge steps and flops down next to me. The entire bed shifts, and the addictive scent of his soap invades my space.

  I turn to my side and take in his profile. Shower-wet hair, cheeks that are starting to chisel as he grows into a physique that doesn’t look remind me of any other guy’s in our school. He’s more of a man every day, and I feel more like an awkward nerd girl.

  “Tell me you’re not pissed about earlier.” He turns to his side to face me, and I bite my lip. He takes up most of my twin bed. Mom and Dad would freak if it were anyone but Grayson. Their “no boys in my room” rule was carved into stone during my freshman year when Ryan’s friends started hanging around—sniffing around, as Dad says. But I say that’s a big, fat laugh. Their room-rule doesn’t apply to Gray, though.

  He reaches over our heads and grabs my iPod, shoving an ear bud in his ear and one in mine. A few scrolls later, music blasts. It’s kinda emo, a little deep, nothing that I expect he’d choose. The vocals croon about heartache, about how the future is a blur. The beat drops low, and the bass rolls through my body. Even though Gray’s so close, or maybe because of it, I feel my blood thumping.

  “Now that…” Slowly, he nabs the lone ear bud from me. Our eyes lock. “I’d pay to see you dance to.”

  “Grayson,” I whisper as a fever hits my neck, bleeding through me. When he looks like this—acts like it too—I don’t know what’s for real and what’s in my head.

  “Been talking to your wall?”

  I stifle a cringe. He knows me so well it hurts. “Something like that.”

  “About me?” He smiles, but it’s not a joke. Everything feels different. His voice sounds different. His touches have been longer, his stares deeper, and right now, he’s not pulling back from his question. “Nothing to say, Ems?”

  Without an answer to give him, I roll back to stare at the ceiling.

  He groans. “You’re mad at me, right?”

  Shoot. We’re going to have to talk about today. But I’m clueless. It’s like having what I want served on a platter, but it’s not real.

  He nudges my shoulder. “Say something.”

  If I stay quiet another second, he’s going to think I’m nuts. Protecting my heart is my top priority, but I can’t let go of the hope. “Kelly Reynolds will probably hate me for the rest of my life.”

  It’s the best thing I’ve got, talking about something besides him and me but staying on topic. Not bad. But Grayson’s deep laugh surrounds me.

  I turn to face him again, and his brilliant smile makes his perfect face radiate. “Kelly Reynolds is a slut.”

  True, but that isn’t my issue with her. “She thinks I asked you to Sadie Hawkins.”

  “You were going to.” Confident and handsome. The total package.

  “Oh, my God.” I can’t breathe. What the hell’s going on between us? Downplay, downplay, downplay. I can’t handle him right now. Smiling like he’s dropping jokes, I nudge him back. “No way. You were bottom of my list, seriously, deep on the backup pile if I couldn’t nab a date.”

  A brooding scowl darkens his face. “Like you couldn’t swing any date you wanted.”

  “Not quite…”

  He elbows me but lingers longer than he should. The heavy beat of my pulse thumps in my neck. I feel it in my wrists, and my mouth waters. What is it with us?

  “Shit, Ems. I don’t know what to do here.”

  I jerk back. Wait. What? My stomach’s in my throat, my skin has shiver bumps, I can’t inch away, and he’s not moving.

  “Gray?” But I forget everything else I want to say because I want to hear him say those words again. Then I’ll believe that whatever this is I feel is not just in my head.

  He pushes a few strands of hair off my cheek, and it’s surreal. My breaths are shallow. My mind races. Confliction and confusion battle for forefront in my mind. He’s the only boy I’ll ever trust enough to blush in front of, if that makes sense, which it doesn’t. I blame stupid love.

  “Tell me a story, Emma.” He inches closer. “Tell me something that takes us far away from here.”

  That’s his thing. He hates here, which I don’t entirely get. But he loves that I’m a dreamer, that I can transport us far away when we close our eyes. It’s something we’ve done since we were kids, and even when I can’t breathe lying next to him, the familiarity is as intoxicating as it is soothing.

  Okay. I can do this. “Eyes closed, Gray.”

  “Closed.”

  I breathe in deeply and think of something that moves us away from now. I can’t think of anything because I’ve never loved a moment as much as this one.

  “Are your eyes still closed, Emma?”

  They are. I nod. “Yup.”

  There’s a shift of his weight as he moves on the bed, coming closer. “Keep them closed.”

  My lungs ache. My heart’s exploding, and my senses are hyper-alive. My lips part, wanting to tell him a story, wanting to kiss him more than I want to breathe. My eyelashes flutter.

  “Closed, Ems.” His low voice rakes over me.

  I’m dying. In heaven. Right now.

  His side touches my side. The heat from his body covers mine. His soft breaths torture my cheek… my chin… then hover over my lips.

  Unable to control myself, I feel my hips shift. My chin tilts up. Anticipation squeezes deep into my soul. He’s watching me. My eyes are still shut, but I can feel
his gaze as his finger touches my hair, sliding down the strands to the slope of my collarbone.

  I’m ready—swooning, melting, panting—for a kiss.

  “God, you are beautiful, Ems,” he whispers.

  My eyes open, and my mind spins. The vibrant green of his are inches away.

  “What are we doing?”

  “I’m memorizing what takes me away. What saves me.”

  “You’ve—” My whispering voice cracks, but I don’t care how I sound. I’m toeing the cusp of all I ever wanted.

  “We’re done ignoring us.” His hand cups my face, fingers stroking my cheeks down to my chin. When my lips part, his eyes drop to my mouth, focusing on my lips.

  I’ve been kissed. Dates. Dares. However they’ve happened, I’ve had a few solid moments of PG-rated hookups. Nothing I have ever experienced has anything on this moment, and Gray’s lips haven’t even touched mine.

  His heavy weight lies atop of me, but one arm props him up, so I’m not crushed. I can’t think. Just feel. A kiss has never been more meant to be. Then his lips touch mine. I breathe him in.

  He groans into my mouth, and I let his tongue sweep mine. Hungry for more of him, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, scarcely believing this is happening. Knowing how big and broad Gray is, that’s one thing. Wrapping myself around him, feeling him hold me, kiss me—it’s insane.

  His hands thread into my hair, and it’s like we’ve unleashed a fire. His hips flex to mine. His erection pushes into my stomach. Without thought, I’m biting his lip, scratching my fingers into his back—

  A noise startles us. We’re frozen, panting, connected and staring into each other’s eyes.

  “Garage,” I mumble against his lips.

  He hugs me close; then we separate, rolling to opposite ends. All I can do is stare at Grayson and smile like a loon.

  He chuckles and tilts his head, a crooked half smile on his face. “What—”

  The bedroom door opens. Dad and Ryan were out running some kind of man-errands that I wasn’t invited to and didn’t want to go on. Thank God.

  “Hi, sweetie pie.” My dad pops his head in. “Oh, hey, Grayson.” Then Dad laughs like what just happened has no chance of ever happening between Gray and me. “No boys in your room with the door closed.”

  “Hey, Mr. Kingsley.”

  “Right. Gotcha. Sorry.” The way those three words fumble out of my stuttering mouth should’ve been a neon blinking sign that screamed obvious. But apparently, Dad’s stuck in oblivious mode.

  “I meant to tell you, son, great job last Friday.” Then Dad smiles at me. “Guess this guy will always be an exception in this house.”

  He turns to leave, shuts the door, and there Grayson and I are, still silent and staring. I slap my hands over my mouth, certain insane, nervous giggles are going to explode at any second. Gray’s the epitome of cool collectedness. Must be nice.

  Pound, pound. Ryan thumps on my door as he walks past. “Gray in there?”

  Grayson’s eyes trail toward the door, then he stands. “So…”

  “So…” Please don’t ruin anything. Please don’t say anything like whoopsie or oh, shit, why did that happen?

  He leans against my wall, and his green eyes are on fire. A smile that melts me catches on his lips. “Get ready to get your Sadie Hawkins on.”

  My mind is already doodling Mrs. Grayson Ford in imaginary notebooks. He has no clue where my head is. But given that I didn’t see what just happened coming at all, maybe I have no clue where his head is either.

  He lifts his chin to say goodbye. Then he’s gone. Down the hall, Grayson and Ryan bro out. I listen to their muffled voices while I press my fingers against my mouth. My lips feel swollen. My entire body feels… explosive.

  Finally, I drop back to my bed and kick my feet up. Cherry needs to weigh in on this situation. I grab my phone and see a text message from Grayson.

  Grayson: No more stories. That’s all I’ve ever needed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Emma

  I’m so glad this week is over. After kissing Gray and walking around like a grinning lovesick puppy for about twenty-four hours, I immediately realized I was going to screw this up. For the rest of that day, I hid in my room, blowing up Cherry’s phone with emergency SOS texts. When she called me, her advice was perfect. Then she dropped the same message, but a thousand times more concise, into a text.

  Cherry: Whatever you do, don’t let him go. He’s perfect.

  Yeah, no kidding. But how wasn’t I going to screw up? I have no idea what to do about kissing Gray, other than finding a kickass dress for Sadie Hawkins. Then I scroll back to her next text.

  Cherry: What are you gonna tell Ryan?!

  The thing is Ryan would handle it well. We’re all friends, and Gray’s not a dick. Still, telling Ryan, that’s unnerving. But there’s nothing to tell Ryan if I can’t pull my act together and stop avoiding Gray.

  I’ve been a complete baby about it. In my defense, it was the world’s most perfect kiss. I still get the feels thinking about it. As far as I can tell, there’s a significant chance that it can’t get any better than it was in my bed.

  Well, in my imagination, it can. But real life?

  Sadie Hawkins is tomorrow night, and I have no choice but to see him since I’m his date and all. Shit. The slow pound of my heart begins its predictable cadence, thinking of the dress that took three days of shopping to find. The blue fabric and curving fit have one purpose: explain to Grayson what I want when I can’t manage to talk.

  Scrolling back to Cherry’s text—shit—I catch the time, and I’m late. I grab my camera bag and bolt downstairs. If there’s any way I’m going to hit the sunset that curves over Three Sisters Mountain, I needed to be in my car five minutes ago.

  If I skip around the Parkway and hit the 613 Bypass, I can get there. I need this shot. Everything is tied into it. The perfect picture lands the final, perfect grade and pretty much secures my acceptance into Trydan College’s uber-elite art program. I’m already lined up to attend next fall, but if I don’t secure a seat in that program, what’s the point?

  I jump the last two stairs, spin around the corner, and slam into an unexpected wall of muscle.

  “Ems.”

  Grayson… Shit. “Hey, um, sorry.”

  I right myself, slinging the camera bag back on my shoulder, but I can’t tear away from him. How did I not know he was here? As much as I’ve avoided him, now I don’t want to go anywhere. Every second counts as the setting sun’s light shifts over the thick forest cap. But his hands, his gaze. God, I’m not going anywhere to take that photo.

  His hands move to my biceps, steadying me when I haven’t realized I’m swaying. “You good?”

  I nod. Yup, totally good. What’s the question? What isn’t the question? Because that thing where I can’t think, breathe, function, move… I spiral into total Grayson reaction.

  He lets me go and crosses muscular arms over an expansive chest. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  “No. Not really.” I cringe. “Maybe.”

  “Can’t do that, Ems.” He steps forward. His hand is on my side, backing me against the wall.

  Oh, God. What if he kisses me again? I don’t think I can keep upright. “I know. It’s okay. I just…” Have no idea what to say or do.

  “Want to tell me why?”

  Ha. No way. “I was shopping after school this week.”

  “Haven’t seen you at lunch, haven’t seen you text, haven’t seen you at all.”

  “Well, um…”

  “We’re still good for tomorrow?” His brows are up, but his smile is down. A concern mars his handsome face, and nodding is the only thing I can do to confirm Sadie Hawkins.

  “See, this is the thing.” He leans closer. “Me kissing you, you disappearing, that’s my nightmare.”

  His nightmare?

  He leans down. His face comes closer. “We’ve been tight since we were six. Don’t let anything screw that up.�
�� The strongest guy I know shows a slice of vulnerability. “You don’t know what you mean to me, Emma.”

  I… what? “Gray—”

  His stomach touches mine. His hands move up and palm my cheeks. This guy could have anyone at school. But he’s here in my house, saying this, doing this.

  “I don’t get it.” My eyes sting. I can’t explain why. Between the not breathing and the not thinking, tearing up couldn’t come at a worst time. But my head’s all over the place. My love, it’s too strong, and if he ever knew… Whatever’s burning between us, it’s enough to make my daydreams seem like a possibility.

  “What don’t you get?” His thumbs caress my cheeks.

  “This.”

  He pulls back and snags my hand. My camera bag drops off my shoulder, landing at the base of the stairs as he drags me back up. The closer we come to my room, the more my stinging eyes and breathing problems rage.

  Then we’re in my room. He shuts the door, and everything inside me tingles. My folks aren’t home. My brother’s in the basement. Just me and Gray behind my closed bedroom door.

  “Sit down, Emma.”

  If he hadn’t given me a little push, there’s a chance I would’ve obeyed and dropped to the floor right there. Carefully, I sit on my bed, watching him pace, lost in silence. The twist on his face is confusing.

  “Gray?”

  He stops and turns to me. “You’re the only one who can do that.”

  “Do what?” I whisper, uncertain of… everything.

  “Stop my head. Freeze my mind. Bring me to another place. Or keep me where I need to be.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “I thought far away.” He rubs his temples. “School’s over in, what, three weeks?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you’re off to Trydan.”

  “In a few months.” Biting my lip, I don’t know where he’s going with this. He hasn’t said anything about college. I know he’s had a couple of scouts talk to him at school, but discussions about the future—just like his home life—are off-limits. I know where, or if, he’s going to college like I know what his bedroom looks like: I don’t.