It was a spark lighting a flame that had been simmering under the surface. One I didn’t even know was there. A fire I swear I didn’t think I was capable of.
“Rhett.” His voice is quiet and cautious. It’s so vulnerable, I look over at him and see the weariness all over his face.
“Not here, Grayson.”
“Afraid I’ll out you?” He isn’t saying it in a threatening way, more curiously.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll do that to you? Last night you seemed pretty freaked-out about that possibility. I doubt your little, dude bro-friends would be very accepting.”
“First of all, you don’t know them. Hell, I barely know them.” I raise an eyebrow, and he continues, “But yeah. I don’t know what they would think, and I don’t really care.”
“Right,” I scoff.
“Okay, fine. I care a little but not enough to let you push me away. That kiss . . .”
“Keep it down,” I hiss, my eyes frantically darting around the empty art room. I was the subject of enough high school-gossip when I got here—all ripped jeans, hoodie, and go-to-hell attitude. I’m sure they could smell the poor on me. Whispers were heard down every hallway. And now that I’m nearly free of this place, that’s the last thing I need. I soften my tone slightly and shoot him a pleading look. “Please.”
“I want to talk about it.”
I do too. But I also don’t. My mind is a whirlwind of confusion, and I don’t know what I want. I stare too long at his full lips and high-cut cheekbones, and I try to swallow the lump in my throat along with the desire I can’t deny. “Later.”
“Tonight’s volunteer night, right?”
Jesus Christ, is he kidding? “No. That’s not a thing for you. It’s volunteer night for me. Not you.”
He looks unbothered, standing up from the stool. “Wrong. I told Tanya I’d be back.”
Mother. Fucker.
“Grayson.”
“I’m going, Rhett.” He looks determined, and I know there’s no stopping him. But I also don’t think it’s just to bug me or to go along to talk to me about last night. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking almost nervous. “I want to check on Laney. She’s cool.”
I fight a smile and sigh loudly instead. “You’re a real pain in the ass.”
He grins at me, dropping his hand to his side. “Did you walk today?”
“Yeah.” I nod in the direction of one of the windows showing off a bright, sunny day outside. “Not raining.”
“I’ll still give you a ride,” he says, so sure of himself, I don’t know if I’m turned-on or annoyed.
“No.” I turn fully around on the stool, but instead of backing down, he steps into me, leaning down and placing a hand on either side of me, his palms flat on top of the art table behind me.
“Yes.”
Fuck, okay. Yeah, it’s turned-on. Very turned-on. Way too turned-on to have eight hours of school left.
“Fine,” I snap, and he doesn’t look surprised.
The fucker actually leans in even closer until his mouth is near my ear. “I can’t wait.”
I close my eyes involuntarily, breathing in his clean, masculine scent and willing my body to calm down. I can’t do anything about my raging hormones right here, and he knows it.
When my eyes flutter open, he’s pulling away, leaving the room with a knowing wink, and I wish like hell I was annoyed.
Annoyed, I can handle.
More turned-on than I’ve ever been in my entire life?
Yeah, that’s new.
FIFTEEN
I need to play it cool. I know that. I keep telling myself that. But do I listen? Hell no. Because I can’t stop staring at him. He’s fucking perfect.
And that kiss.
Jesus. That. Kiss.
I can’t get it out of my mind. I want to do it again and again. And honestly, it scares the shit out of me that I’m probably more than willing to put up with a lot of shit from Rhett to get it.
“I like her cookies.” I pull my attention away from Rhett, who’s hanging out at the other table with Max and Ian and smile at Laney, who’s telling me about her foster mom.
“What kind?”
“Chocolate chip,” she says happily as she colors in another one of my drawings.
“Good. At least it’s not oatmeal raisin. I mean . . . that’s not a cookie. That’s fruit and oats.”
She giggles and shakes her head, and I swear it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. I don’t like how easy it was to get attached to this kid, but I just know I want her to be okay. I catch Rhett’s curious appraisal from across the room and can’t help myself, tossing him a quick wink.
He scowls at me and, no doubt, grumbles something to himself, which only makes me laugh. The ride here was quiet, but he did let me drive him here. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?
He could have told me to fuck off. Threatened me against telling anyone about our kiss. Been a total dickhead. But he didn’t. I think he’s craving more time with me almost as much as I am with him.
When we say goodbye to the kids and Tanya, he doesn’t even try to argue about me taking him home. He just climbs in my passenger seat, and we’re silent as I drive to his place. My nerves are ramped-up, and my palms are sweating as I grip the steering wheel.
I’m afraid of what he’s going to say when he finally breaks the silence, but for whatever reason, I’m going to let him take the lead. I need to hear how he really feels about it. I want to hear all the things when it comes to Rhett.
When I park the car, he doesn’t immediately dart out, but he doesn’t invite me upstairs either. What he does is more surprising than anything I could have ever dreamed of. He unbuckles, and then his hand is on the back of my neck, dragging me to him, his lips pressing firmly against mine.
Holy. Shit.
It takes a moment for me to catch up, but when I get my seatbelt unhooked, I lean into him, attacking his mouth with mine. Our tongues fight for dominance—his sweeping into my mouth, and then mine plunges into his—mingling and tasting each other.
His fingers dig into the back of my neck, and I’m certain I’ll have a bruise there tomorrow but couldn’t care less. His hard body leaning against me and his mouth devouring mine is everything I could ever want. I wish my car was bigger. I’d drag his ass into the backseat and never let him leave. But soon, he’s nipping at my bottom lip and pressing one hand on my chest, pushing me back but leaving his palm there, scorching my skin through my shirt.
“Grayson,” he breathes heavily.
“Rhett,” I pant back, staring at his plump lips, swollen from my attack.
“I . . .”
“Don’t,” I plead. “Please, don’t. Don’t say this is a mistake or you’re not gay or whatever you’re going to say.” I gesture between our two bodies. “You can’t deny the attraction here.”
He shakes his head slowly, dropping his hand from my chest and dragging it through his hair. “I’m not gay.”
I scoff, ready to argue. But then, I see the lost look in his eyes, and I wait.
“I don’t know what I am, Grayson. I . . .”