Chapter 13

I stand leaning against the door, frozen in place. I have no idea what to do or what to say. I've never had a guy in my room before. Fighting my fears, I decided to speak up before Grayson wants to leave. "I'm really sorry about Evie. And my mom. And really this whole situation, in general," I apologize. "I didn't expect you to come here and see that. I mean, it's a lot of..." My words trail off into nothing when Grayson rises from my bed and walk over to me. All I can do is stare at him as he stalks over to my position by the door. He doesn't stop until he is inches, and I mean inches, from my body. He barely leaves enough room between us, yet he still gives the illusion of space because we aren't touching. I think I forget how to breathe because as soon as he got close to me I sucked in a breath and haven't released it yet. He stares at me with those beautiful gray eyes that are the only thing that can clue me in to what he's thinking. "Stop apologizing." He takes my hand in his and walks me over to my bed. It's almost comical how he's in my house, my room, and he's the one leading me and making me more comfortable. But I guess that's just Grayson. He sits down on the edge of my bed once again and gently tugs on my hand to urge me to sit next to him. He doesn't let go of my hand, though. He holds it in his and strokes it lightly back and forth with his thumb in a soothing manner. It feels really nice and it calms me down more. "Breath, Thea," Grayson whispers, to which I let out the breath I've been holding. How have I not realized that I'm not breathing? It's a basic human necessity, yet when I'm around him, everything else seems so unimportant. I don't realize that I'm staring at our joined hands until his other hand lifts my chin so that I'm looking at his face. Just like before, his hand doesn't leave my skin. His palm rests against my cheek, and I don't make a move to remove it. He continues to stare at me for a few moments before he speaks. "I'm guessing that you're nervous with me in here." Crap! How does he know? It's probably by the look on my face, but I don't know what face I'm making and therefore wouldn't know how to change it. If he only knew how fast my heart is beating right now... Afraid to say something embarrassing, I nod my head. "I figured. Listen, I don't want you to be nervous around me." Pfft, like I could stay calm around him! "Just so you know, I'm nervous too," he says. "Feel my heart." He takes our joined hands and places them against his chest, right above his heart. My hand is trapped between the warmth of his chest and palm, and for a moment it's hard not to concentrate on the muscles underneath his shirt. I don't even want to think about what he looks like without a shirt. Once I calm down enough to pay attention to his heart, I instantly realize that he's right. His heart seems to be beating just as fast as mine. "How... Why..." I shake my head. "You, Thea. Being around you makes me nervous. And I don't get nervous." He begins to ever so slowly leaned his head forward. I sit still, letting him lead. It seems the closer he gets, the faster my heartbeats and the more my head spins. When his nose touches mine, I abruptly stand up, my hand leaving the protection of his. With space, I am able to think more clearly. "No," I say, more to myself than to him. I begin pacing the floor of my bedroom, trying to find a reason why he's acting like this towards me. He's being a perfect gentleman. He's polite and kind, funny and flirty. Why me? It just seems so out of the blue. We just met, and I feel all kinds of things for him that I shouldn't be feeling this soon. We're not dating, he's not my boyfriend. And on top of all of those things, he's the most attractive guy I've ever seen, including in magazines and on TV. So why, out of everyone on Earth who would kill to be with him, would he pick me? The shy, average-looking girl who is still figuring out who she is? “No, what?" Grayson asks, looking confused and concerned on my bed. "You and me," I whisper, and I honestly don't expect him to hear me, but he must have a superhuman hearing because as soon as the words pass between my lips he is up and pinning me to the dresser with his body. His gray eyes dilate so that most of his eyes are black and there is an only a small sliver of the gray-blue that normally resides there. He looks angry, honestly. “Why the hell not?" he grinds out, his jaw clenched together tightly as if he's controlling himself. His hands found their way to my waist and he holds me firmly. I let out a surprised gasp that then turns to a breathy moan when his hands begin to massage my sides. My body is completely touching his, and I can feel all of the hard muscles of his body tensing against me. He stares at me as if he can see right through me, and it compels me to answer him- to please him. “You and I don't make sense," I start, to which a low growl is released from deep in his throat. I've never heard a sound like it before. It's really sexy, though. Dang it, why did I think that? "Grayson," I continue. "You're amazing. You're tall, handsome, kind, outgoing. You can't possibly want to be with someone like me. We-" I am interrupted by Grayson who gets even closer to me if that were possible. "Don't tell me what I do and don't want. Nothing keeps me from what I want, and I want you." Before I can get another word in, his mouth descends on mine. He kisses me with passion like no one else has. The only thing I can think about is him- his hands gripping my sides, his cologne which smells of cedar and pine, and his lips, which expertly move against mine. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, then lightly bites it before releasing it and diving in for more. Throwing caution to the wind, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer. He tilts his head to the side, which causes the kiss to go deeper. I grip his hair, triggering a low groan to come from Grayson, which only makes me more confident. He wants me. Me! I've kissed other guys before him. Not a lot, but I do have a little experience. None of those kisses ever felt like this one. I've never gotten butterflies in the pit of my stomach before or wanted to cling to them for hours on end. I have deep feelings for him, and I never realized how deep until now. He shows me how deep his feelings for me are as he kisses me. It's raw. It's real. There's no way that I can't believe that he wants me. But, I fear that he wants more than I can give him. Reluctantly I pull away from the kiss. I rest my forehead against him as I take deep breaths, recovering from the kiss. Looking into his eyes, I speak. "Wow." "Yeah," Grayson laughs, moving his hands to my back. "Listen, Grayson…” "Don't start," Grayson interrupts. He places a finger on my lips to prevent me from talking, which honestly surprises me. He has no idea what I'm gonna say. "That kiss was fucking incredible, and I know you thought so too. So don't feed me shit about how I can't want you. Because you're perfect. You're beautiful, smart, funny, and I really want to get to know you better. I know we just met, but I know if you give me a chance-" I cut him off with a kiss. It was short, more of a peck, but it does the job and he stops talking. "You didn't know what I was going to say, Grumpy," I let out my nickname for him to which he scrunches his eyebrows. It makes him look like an adorable puppy. "Grumpy?" I bite my lip to hold in the laugh bubbling to the surface. It doesn't really work, and my giggle breaks through. "Yeah. That's my nickname for you because the first time I saw you, you looked really grumpy. You had this tough guy face on, and I thought you were gonna be mean. But then, you looked at me, and suddenly you looked... lighter. Happier. It surprised me..." “I could never be grumpy around you," he smirks. "Especially when you kiss like that." I have to put my hand against my face to keep the sound of my laughter down. Evie is being put to bed now, and if I'm too loud she won't be able to sleep. And my mom will kill me. I turn my head and finally realize that I'm up against the dresser in my room, the very same dresser that Evie knocked a snow globe off of. All across the dresser are other snow globes from all around the world; all places my mom has traveled for work. Evie was right, the Venice one was one of my favorites. It was a medium-sized snow globe with a gondola in the middle, and a couple in love was sitting in the center of the boat. Instead of snow, there were gold flakes that would rain from the surface when you shook it, surrounding the couple. "You have a lot of snow globes, I see." Grayson picks up the closest one to him, which happens to be one from California. He shakes it, causing a snow flurry inside the globe. It's mesmerizing to watch, the brown bear inside disappeared in white. "I also have more in the closet. It's a collection I started with my mom when I was young, and I never stopped." I could look at every single one and remember how old I was and when my mom gave it to me. "You've really traveled around," Grayson mumbles as he looks at the snow globes on the other dresser and on my desk. I laugh at his comment. "Quite the opposite." Grayson tilts his head slightly and places the snow globe down, focusing all of his attention on me. "What do you mean?" This is the embarrassing part. "Um, I've only been to Florida and here. I'm originally from there and I moved here a few years ago. I collect snow globes because my mom is a flight attendant, and everywhere she travels she buys me one." Grayson continues to stare at me, and I blush at the attention. I begin to think that he'll laugh at me for having a stupid collection from places I've never been to, but the laughter never comes. A soft smile spreads across his face instead. "Well then, I guess we'll have to change that. Where would you want to go, if you could go anywhere? If money weren't an issue." "Easy," I reply instantly. "Venice, Italy. I think it's really amazing how they use boats to travel everywhere. Although, it's not great when you think about climate change, it's still beautiful. Oh, and Venetian glass! I want to see how they make those beautiful glass sculptures." Grayson grins at me the entire time I talk. Then, when I finish my mini-rant, he replies "I'll take you." What. The. Heck. He'll take me to Venice? I nervously laugh. "That's a nice thought. But I don't think I'll ever get to go. Maybe after college, after I get a job with a better salary than the coffee shop-" "I told you money wasn't an issue. I'll take you in my private jet." He leans in and kisses me slowly, his hands returning to my hips. I want to laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but the laugh dies in my throat when his hands grip my waist. Since his hands are so big, the fingers spread across my back while his thumbs reach under my belly button. Grayson attempts to move back, but when I grip his arms, his lips curve up slightly before he dives in again. I can't get enough of him. The first time we met was at the coffee house, and we talked with Axel and Cooper for hours. I got to know him pretty well. Then, we texted each other back and forth. Our text conversations lasted hours. Then, at dinner tonight, he was calling me "babe" and "love" and being all touchy. At first, I thought he was just being flirty, but now I think he actually, for some insane reason, likes me. My hands move up the large muscles of his arms and rest on his shoulders. I'm about to lean my head to deepen the kiss when Grayson abruptly backs up and moves to the desk chair. I'm left a panting mess, while Grayson looks unaffected. How can he look so put together after that kiss? Why did he stop?