Only for Him Page 3
And he won’t talk about it. I’ve tried more than once. His father is an asshole. That’s all he’s ever shared, but I picked up on that the few times I’ve seen his dad over the years. More than once, I’ve seen Grayson with bruises that he blames on football, though I’ve never seen Ryan like that. Gray’s home life is bad. I figured that out long ago when I started telling him stories. The future is what he avoids.
He crosses his thick arms, making his muscles flex. “This week fuckin’ sucked.”
I blink. “Why?”
“God,” he growls. “Are you that blind?”
My eyes go wide. My heart slams in my chest. “No—”
He drops to his knees in front of my bed. His hands tear into my hair. His mouth finds mine, pulling me to him. This isn’t a kiss. It’s a pleading. No one’s ever touched me like he does. It’s hard and hot, and I didn’t know kisses like this existed outside the movies.
“I’m sorry.” I kiss him, bite him. God, I need him. “I’m scared of you.”
He breaks from me, breathing hard. “What?”
“What if what you want isn’t what I want?” I bite my lip. “What if I’m so far past…”
His arms wrap around me, and Gray pulls me with him as he crawls onto my bed. “Don’t doubt this.”
I nod, and his mouth finds my neck. Everything inside my body ignites. Deep in me, I’m dying for him, all lust-drunk and love-crazy. His hips flex, pushing his weight between my legs. My hands claw into his shirt, ripping to get under it and palm his skin, and when I do, he moans as my fingernails dig into his hot flesh.
But then he stops. I’m panting, my mouth open against his. His eyes freeze on mine, his breaths the mirror of mine. I feel his hard-on between my legs, thick and hard.
“You can’t hide from me. You have no idea…” He blinks. “Promise me.”
I nod.
“Good.”
“Are you sure… about us?” Because I can’t believe it. Wrapping my head around him and me, it’s almost impossible. Very Cinderella—just a fairy tale come to life.
He grabs my hand and presses it to the bulge in his pants. I want to jerk away. I know my mouth’s hanging open. That’s so… so, oh my God. It’s an asshole move, but it’s not. It’s… I don’t know what it is. But it’s forward, beyond anything I know how to comprehend.
“Emma.” He lets my hand go. “You’re adorable. And cute. Sweet. Better to me than anyone’s ever been.”
What does any of that have to do with us? “So is everybody else.”
“Pretty doesn’t begin to describe you, Ems. You’re…”
“Awkward with a camera stuck to my face.”
“The one I dream about.”
My heart freezes. “Grayson…” I love you.
“You have no idea when it comes to what I think about you.”
The sun has set. My room’s light is turning a deep purple, and there’s an urge to hug and hold him that has nothing to do with the kiss that just happened.
He leans over to kiss me. This time it’s slow. He tastes like mint, and I’m mesmerized by the lazy roll of his mouth. Grayson holds my hip. His fingers flex, and his thumb scores back and forth over the slip of bare skin under my shirt. We could stay here for hours. Maybe we will.
His teeth tug my bottom lip. “I gotta run.”
My chest is tight, and I crave his hands, his mouth everywhere. But everyone will be home soon, and my total inexperience is going to put me into a position where I want more than I know what to do about. “Okay.”
One more kiss, and he leaves me on my back. “Bye, Ems.”
“Bye.” I kick my feet to the wall and wish Cherry was on the other side. Instead, I text her, expecting her to reply with something like, go find that boy and jump him. Maybe someday soon, I will.
CHAPTER FIVE
Emma
Today, we killed the juniors in the powder-puff game. Football’s no joke, and even though it was all fun and games, I’m sore. I swallow a couple of Tylenol before Grayson picks me up because nothing’s slowing me down for tonight’s Sadie Hawkins, not sore muscles or nervous stomach twinges or the excited anticipation of walking in on his arm, knowing there’s more than a good chance his lips will be on mine sometime tonight.
The doorbell rings, and my stomach jumps.
“Gray’s here.” Mom made such a fuss when Ryan’s date picked him up that maybe she’s not having the same holy shit moment I am. Grayson used the doorbell? In what world does that happen? He just walks in. He may even have a key because I know he’s been here when we haven’t.
One last twirl before my mirror, and the blue dress seems smaller and tighter than anything I’m used to wearing. I can’t explain how much I love it. My heart pounds, wondering what his reaction will be.
I fumble for my purse. Again, one more time, just in case, I spin in front of the mirror. Maybe this dress is too much? It’s just a stupid Sadie Hawkins—
“Emma?” Mom’s heels come closer.
Right. I can do this. He likes me. I love him. No pressure. Shit, shoot, shit… Okay.
I head to the stairs, each step closer to my big reveal, and I can’t fight the giddy smile on my face. He’s bringing out a part of me that I’ve always had but kept hidden.
As I stand at the top of the stairs, Mom stops mid-conversation with an unseen Grayson and gapes. “William,” she calls to my dad. “Honey, come see Emma.”
Dad’s in the background, futzing with whatever he’s doing. Neither Mom nor Dad would have expected this. It’s just a dance with Gray. But it’s so much more, and this dress announces it. At least in my mind it does.
As I descend the stairs, my eyes track to Grayson, and the desire on his face makes my chest feel tight. A nervous grin I can’t hide crosses my face, and he steps forward. He’s wearing a suit that makes him look like a movie star ready for the red carpet. His broad shoulders in the dark jacket are large but lean. The stark white shirt unbuttoned at the collar epitomizes sexy. Everything about him screams out of my league. He’s just so… Grayson.
His lips part as he walks to me. “Wow.”
One word. But the effect he has on me is nothing short of epic. Under his scrutiny, I’m red-carpet worthy alongside him. Words like pretty or beautiful, even sexy, don’t begin to cover how he makes me feel. A dangerously chaste kiss lands on my cheek, and he breathes deep. “Hell of a dress.”
Holy. Shit. And three days of non-stop shopping is now totally worth it. One of his hands grazes across my bare shoulder, and the need to throw myself against his hard body is unbearable.
Dad meanders into the room and glances me up and down. “Gorgeous, sweetie pie.” Then he turns to Grayson and claps him on the back. “Keep an eye on her for me.”
Dad chuckles and pulls Mom under his arm. They have no idea. I think they think that Grayson’s my pity date and that I asked him because there’s no one else I could-would-should ask. Dad’s subtle warning isn’t for Gray. It’s for Gray to keep others away. Mom and Dad always said I didn’t know how the world saw me. Maybe they were right. But it doesn’t matter. Gray’s the only one I care about.
When we leave my house, his large hand spans the small of my back. He has me close, and my stomach is on rotation, flip after flop. This feels like one of those chick flicks where I just know everything will come together in the end.
“I like you in a suit, Gray.”
He tucks me into the passenger seat, crouches down, and catches my hand as I reach for my seatbelt. His hand is strong and confident. “I like you any way you come.”
Then he pulls back to shut the door. I don’t even know this guy anymore, but I can’t get enough. Ten minutes later, we’re at school and heading inside, his hand holding mine. Strings of lights sparkle overhead, glittering like stars and transforming the gym into something worth remembering.
When Gray told Kelly I’m his date, it never occurred to me that I’m actually going to be his date. Four years of high school, count
less dances, and he’s always been my dream guy. Probably everybody else’s too.
I catch a glance of Ryan talking with his date, some floozy that surely gave him a BJ before they got here. That’s what happens. People hook up. They hang out.
My stomach flutters. Dating doesn’t really exist. People can be fuck buddies. Then after a couple of weeks, they’re heartbroken or they’re not, but they move on. At least that’s how it seems to me. No one really dates. It’s old and awkward. But Gray and me? It’s been two weeks of nervous moments, hot kisses, and awesomeness. So whatever it’s called, I love it.
Shifting in heels that I should never have worn, I scan right to left. It’s a sea of dresses and suits. Couples who have been watching the dance floor are now looking at me. At us. The stares are like a chokehold.
“Gray…” I lean against him.
The whole gym sees me on his arm, hand in hand, when I realize that even Gray is looking at me. Blood rushes in my neck, screams in my ears. My lungs go tight, and that has nothing to do with the dress I poured myself into. He leans over and presses his lips to my temple. “Let them talk.”
Ryan sees us, studies our handhold, and I can see him processing the Gray-me couple. After a few long seconds, my brother gives Grayson a chin lift and me a smile. It’s the Ryan Kingsley stamp of approval.
Gray’s lips drag across my forehead, and I sway into him. The whispers start as we walk farther in. Their eyes follow the football star-art nerd combo. They’re used to seeing us like us over the years, not like this, arms connected, bodies touching. This is different. His fingers are intertwined with mine. He’s so close and smells like clean, soapy heaven.
“People are looking at us.”
His hand squeezes. “Good.”
“Kelly Reynolds is drooling over you.”
He laughs. “And every dude here’s doing the same for you.”
What? I bite my lip but lean into him. “Liar.”
Gray whips me around, arms around my waist, backing me to the dance floor where everyone who isn’t staring is dancing. The music is fast, the beat strong. But we’re almost slow dancing, and the motion leaves me desperate and anxious, wanting more of him than I’ve had.
I corral all of my nerves and bravery into one giant question. “So is this some kind of boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”
He slows even though we are already moving at a swaying crawl. My throat tightens. This can’t be good. Panic scares away the bravery, and my foolishness is debilitating.
With narrow eyes, he inches closer. “Is that what you want?”
Is he kidding me? I blink, afraid to give my answer. “I…”
I’m unsure how it’s even possible, but his arms hold me closer. His breath touches my ear. “You could do so much better than me.”
Laughing uncomfortably, I don’t understand any of this. He wants me, or he doesn’t. The hand holding and hugging isn’t a move for a fuck buddy. It’s all so genuine it hurts.
“Why say that, Gray?”
“Hm?”
“You’re playing you down to me? I mean, it’s you. Everyone in this gym would die to be me this second.”
He chuckles. “I don’t play me down.”
“You do.” It’s like we see-saw who’s confident and who’s in disbelief. “You have everything.”
“What I have is…” A lost, pained expression passes across his face. “We need to talk.”
“Hey, you two—” Mr. Snyder, my junior year history teacher and one of Gray’s coaches, taps my shoulder. “Give it some breathing room.”
A hot blush crawls onto my cheeks. “Oh, yeah. Sorry”
Gray doesn’t let go. “Just dancing, Coach.”
Mr. Snyder’s brows furrow, and he scowls at Gray. “Of course, Grayson. Some space please, Miss Kingsley.”
What the heck is that attitude coming from his coach?
“She’s fine. Right, Emma?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Not going to tell you again.” Mr. Snyder’s watching me, acting as if he’s protecting me.
“But—”
“That’s okay. We’re out of here. C’mon.” Grayson snags my hand, and I feel a hundred eyeballs follow us toward the gym door.
We’ve only been here a few minutes, but with his wanting to talk and my wanting to do anything but talk, I follow without question.
Mr. Snyder’s steps are hot on our trail. “Once you leave, you can’t re-enter.”
“No prob.” Grayson doesn’t turn around.
“Wait,” Mr. Snyder snaps.
I peer over my shoulder, slowing my date down.
My teacher’s gaze drifts to our entwined hands. “Miss Kinglsey, do you want to stay here?”
My eyes peel back in surprise. “What? No.”
Gray steps closer. “Coach—”
Mr. Snyder ignores him. “If you need a ride, Emma, I’m sure your brother or one of your friends can—”
“Nice. Thanks, Coach.” Grayson scoffs, and the sarcasm rolls. “Let’s go, Ems.”
I nod, letting him pull me out the door. Another quick look over my shoulder, and Mr. Snyder’s worry shakes me. Gray keeps me with him. We reach his car, and he sets me in it, shuts the door, and storms to the driver’s seat. When he gets in, he slams the door and scowls out the windshield.
“What’s… going on?” I’m lost. Everything warm and fuzzy is gone, which I hate.
He turns his head. “Really?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Shit, Ems.” He throws his head back, and his laughter fills the car with an uneasiness that is lost on me.
“Gray, seriously. What was that?”
“That’s everyone’s concern for you with me, verbalized.”
My forehead pinches. “I don’t get it.”
“You’re like… innocent. And I’m not.”
“No, I’m not.”
He laughs. “You are, baby, and I’m the guy who can nail any chick in this school.” He shakes his head. “Coach Snyder knows it.”
Yup. I’m a virgin. Everyone probably assumes that. “Oh…”
“Yeah.”
“He thinks… what, you’re going to…” I cover my smile with my hands. “Defile me?” I want to be embarrassed that my teacher ran after me to protect—what? —my honor. But can’t. Not now. Not with Grayson. A giggle I can’t stop bursts out.
“Defile?” His grin hitches to the side, and I see softness in his green eyes. “Something like that.”
Again, I muster my bravery and hold it deep. Before I can think my thoughts through, my mouth’s moving, and my heart’s screaming. “What if a girl like me wants to be defiled?”
If I lose my virginity, it has to be to him. Right? Someone I love? Someone I want? Someone who’s always been there and who I trust to never disappear?
The softness in his eyes disappears. “Don’t say that.”
“Oh.” My face falls. Everything falls. He wants me, but not like that? Not that much?
His fingers catch my chin, turning me so that I face him. “Ems, nothing about you should ever be defiled.”
I blink. “Okay.”
Whatever word he wants to use, I’m ready. I don’t know when or where, but I want Grayson Ford to be my first.
Really, I want him to be my only.
“It’s just that the future is confusing. And sex is whatever, but sex with you… that’s not. It’s…” He shakes his head.
I shrug to hide my disappointment, completely heartbroken. What is this between us? And who knew not having sex was hurtful too?
Gray clears his throat. “Ems… It’s the ‘you and me’ thing again. I’m…”
“You’ve never had a problem getting a date,” I offer, jealous. “I certainly don’t think you have a problem sleeping with—”
“Come on, Emma. Don’t be like that. It’s just that you are…”
I hate every second he doesn’t finish that sentence.
“I’m a virgin.” Tears burn m
y eyes. “That’s it. It’s because I’m a virgin.”
CHAPTER SIX
Grayson
Virgin. My head drops, and I rub my temples, mumbling something along the lines of I can’t say no to her anymore. Truth is, even I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m trying not to beg, trying not to run, needing to touch her, taste her. But I let her words run through my head. Even if I can’t offer Emma anything that she deserves, I can’t say no. The girl’s had my heart since before I knew it went missing.
“Gray?” she whispers.
I’m unable to give her a response. My mind reels. She wants us. I want us. I picture her naked, pressed against me, and I’m going to fall apart.
And to be her first… That’s enough to make me wish I’d never touched another girl, that we were each other’s firsts. It’s selfish, but even if I’m gone, even if she’s in college, living some incredible life one day, she’ll have to remember me.
I turn the engine over and drive.
“Where we going?”
Some place I can have her alone, look into her eyes, and run my hands all over her. Blood thumps in my chest. “My place.”
“Your place?”
I should expect the shock in her voice. How many years have I known her, and how often has she been over? Never. I think maybe she’s always known that it’s not a good place, that it’s my hell. But Pops has been on a bender for a few days already, and he hasn’t been home. Times like this, he won’t show up for a week, maybe two, and those spells of abandonment are the happiest memories I have.
Until now.
“Yeah.” Turning toward her, I catch her eyes. “You good with that?”
However she wants to take that, I mean it. Is she good with me and her? Is she good with a shitty trailer?
“I’m good as long as I’m with you.” Her fingers tangle with mine as I drive away from school.
God, I love her so much that my heart aches.
We drive down Route 6 and hit the entrance for my place. It’s on a weedy plot, and the metal rust-bucket box isn’t any better inside. But it’s home, and tonight, it’s ours.