Rosalie
Is it bad that I smile when I see Grayson’s name on the screen of my phone?
It probably is. I might be getting a little too attached to him, and it’s only been a couple of days since I’ve seen Grayson, but I honestly can’t wait for the next time. It was a rush being with him, experiencing that adrenaline and freedom. It was honestly one of the best moments of my life
Grayson: Hey
Me: Hey
I press send, staring at the phone in my hand, waiting for his reply. I snuggle up on the couch, burying myself in the blanket, and try to focus on the tv instead of anticipating his response.
When the phone buzzes, I rip my eyes from the tv to my phone.
Grayson: What are you doing?
Is this a booty call? Sounds like one. But he made it very clear nothing like that will ever happen between us, which makes me a little confused.
Me: Watching TV.
I press send and put my phone down. But a second later, when it buzzes again, I check it instantly. I can’t help it.
Grayson: I’m downstairs. Your concierge won’t let me come up.
Why is Grayson in my apartment building?
Me: I’ll be right down.
I press send and get up from the couch, fixing my hair in the mirror. I wish I didn’t care what I looked like in front of Grayson. It doesn’t really matter, it’s not like we’re ever going to hook up, so I shouldn’t care how he sees me. However, that doesn’t stop me from changing from my pajamas to a white crop top and pleated pants.
I grab my keys, shut the door behind me, and leave my apartment, heading downstairs. The elevator doors open, and I see Grayson standing in the lobby, leaning on the counter. His head turns when he sees me in the lobby.
A smile spreads across his face as he turns his head back to the concierge. “You see. I knew she would want to see me.”
The concierge, Sergio, ignores him, grumbling under his breath, and then turns to face me. “Miss Whitton. I apologize for the disturbance. This man said he knew you.”
“Yes, Sergio. I know him. It’s fine.”
Grayson stands, meeting me halfway. He looks down my body, and his breath stills. He’s checking me out. He finds me attractive. That’s good to know. I just wish he would show it. I wish he would let me practice everything on him.
“You look beautiful, angel,” he says.
Sergio scoffs, and Grayson scowls at him before taking my hand in his and pulling us outside.
“You ready to go?” he asks.
My eyes widen a little. “Now?” Honestly, I was ready to crash into bed, but I guess the plans have changed. When Grayson calls, I know I’ll have fun.
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “You ready for another lesson?”
A smile breaks out on my face. I love the sound of that. A lot. I nod, grinning at him. “Yeah.”
“A bar?” I ask, stepping out of his car.
He wouldn’t tell me where we were going. I’m a very curious person. As much as I love surprises, I’m also the kind of person who tries to guess everything, the kind who shakes the present to see if I can figure out what’s inside. I’m impatient. And the whole ride over, all he told me was, ‘you’ll see.’
“Yep,” he says, locking the car once I’ve closed the door behind me.
This bar is close to campus, so he must come here a lot. I start to wonder if he’s ever picked up girls here. I want to ask, but I don’t. Instead, I smile up at him as we walk inside.
The place is packed. I guess a game had just ended tonight, given that the whole football team is here, cheering and drinking. The whole room fills with their deep voices.
“You want a drink?” Grayson asks, leaning down to speak in my ear.
“I uh… I can’t drink,” I whisper.
He furrows his brows. “Why not?”
I shrug. “I’m not twenty-one.”
He laughs, his breath hitting my skin. “I can get you a drink, don’t worry.”
I pull back a little to look up at him. “You’re twenty-one?”
He shakes his head, smirking. “Not yet,” he says, “But I’ve got a fake.”
“Oh,” I nod. “Right.”
“So, do you want a drink?” he asks again.
I nod. “Yes, please. Something tasty,” I tell him.
He laughs again, the sound making my stomach drop. I love the sound of his laugh. “I got you,” he says. He pulls back and leads me to a table that’s secluded at the back of the bar. “Stay here.”
He walks off, and I look around the bar. My eyes catch on the football team, all of them surrounded at one table, a group of girls around them. Some of them on their laps, giggling, flirting with them. They make it seem so easy.
My eye catches on a guy who seems familiar. His head turns, and our eyes meet. Ben. The guy from the party last week. He grins when he catches me, and the next thing I know, he’s walking toward me.
He flashes me a smile. “Hey, Rosalie,” he says when he approaches my table.
“Hi, Ben,” I say, smiling back at him.
“You following me?” he jokes, grinning.
I shake my head, letting out a laugh. “No, just here with someone.”
“Someone, huh?”
“Yep. A friend,” I say.
He smirks, sitting down at the table. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
My brows lift. “You have?”
“Hmm,” he mumbles, running a hand through his short blonde hair. “You ran away from me last Friday.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “I didn’t run away exactly. I just didn’t want to ditch my friends.”
He returns with a laugh of his own, leaning back on his chair. He fills the space, the muscles of his arms accentuating when he drapes his arm across the back of the empty chair. “I just ditched my friends for you.”
I smile. “Then I promise next time I’ll say yes.”
His smile widens. “Next time, huh? So, I’ll be seeing you again?” he asks.
I shrug. “Let’s leave it up to fate.” This guy makes it hard to say no. He’s attractive as hell, flirty, and fun.
He leans forward. “Fate doesn’t get me a date with you, gorgeous.”
I smile at the compliment. He’s leaning against the table, his face not that far away from mine. Is he going to…
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I snap my head to my right, seeing Grayson scowling at Ben.
Ben laughs and stands up from the table. “This is your friend?” he asks me.
Grayson’s frowning at me, and Ben’s got a cocky smirk on his face. I have no idea what I just walked in on, and I don’t know what the right answer is. “Um, yeah?” It comes out sounding more like a question than an answer.
“Word of advice,” Ben says to me. “Get some better friends.” He shakes his head and laughs again. “I’ll be seeing you around, Rosalie,” he says with a mischievous smile before turning around and walking back to his table.
“What the fuck was that?” Grayson asks while placing the drinks on the table. “I go for five minutes, and now you’ve got a date with Ben Reed?”
“It wasn’t a date,” I tell him, “He just came over to talk to me for a few minutes.”
Grayson scoffs and sits opposite me. “Trust me, that slimy motherfucker wants in your pants.” He takes a swig of his beer.
He seems familiar with who Ben is. Maybe he’s heard rumors and assumes the worst, which is shitty of him. Here I am with him, even though everyone has warned me off of him. “You know him?” I ask.
He waves a hand. “Yeah. From back home,” he says before narrowing his eyes at me. “Question is, how do you?”
I shrug. “I met him at the party last week.”
“Rosie.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Stay away from him.”
I laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he says, no humor in his tone. “He’s an asshole.”
I lift my shoulder in a shrug. “He seemed nice.”
He groans, running a hand down his face. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Drink up,” he says, pushing a drink in front of me.
“You trying to get me drunk?” I tease.
The previous scowl is wiped clean as he smirks. “Yeah. It was on your list. Number 1. Get drunk.”
My stomach flutters. It happens a lot around him. “You remember the list?”
He laughs, low and manly. I really do like that laugh. “Kind of hard not to,” he says.
I feel my face heating as I blush, remembering everything I asked him to do to me, with me, for me.
“You’re so cute when you blush.”
I ignore him, trying not to turn into a tomato, instead picking up the drink he gave me and taking a sip.
“How is it?” he asks.
“Good.” I take another sip. “What is it?”
“Margarita,” he says, taking another sip of his beer.
I tilt my head. “Is that the James Bond drink?”
He shakes his head, laughing. “That’s a martini, Rosie.”
“Oh. Well, whatever it is. I like it.”
“Knew you would.”
I lick some of the salt around the rim, keeping my eyes on him. He shuffles in his chair, his hand gripping the glass tighter as he clenches his jaw.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Was I not supposed to do that?”
He clears his throat, shaking his head. “No, that was… um.” He fists a hand through his hair. “That’s fine.”
I smile, licking more of the salt and finish the drink in one sip. He laughs. “Easy, newbie.”
“The point is to get drunk, right?” I say.
He shrugs. “You’re right. Drink away.”
I pick at the pretzels on the table, loving the salty taste mixed with the sweetness of the drink.
“How did it go with your mom?” he asks.
I groan. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
A laugh escapes his lips, making my eyes dip to them. “That bad, huh?”
I shrug. “Don’t know,” I say. “She never called.”
I admit, I found it odd when I woke up the next morning with my head still intact. I was half expecting her to crash my apartment in the middle of the night and drag me home, but she didn’t. She hasn’t even called yet to give me what I can only expect will be a scolding of a lifetime.
“So, you’re wearing pants,” he says. I silently thank him for moving on from my mother.
“Yeah?”
He shakes his head, a small smirk on his face. “Didn’t think you owned those.”
“I prefer dresses,” I tell him. “I’ve got great legs. Why not show them off?” I say, bringing another pretzel to my mouth.
He nods. “And you’re wearing white tonight.”
I smile. “I am. You’re very observant.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Was that for my benefit?”
“Nope,” I lie, knowing he liked seeing me in white at the party. “Just a lucky coincidence.”
He smiles. “Lucky me.”
“You could be.”
He snorts. “I think the alcohol’s affecting you already.”
I shake my head. “Not nearly enough,” I say, taking his beer and downing half of the glass. Even though I’m not a fan of the bitter taste, the whole point is to get drunk, and I will find a way to do that. “You mind?” I ask him once I’ve already had half of his drink.
He laughs, rubbing his jaw. “Not at all. Go crazy.”
“I’m planning on it.”
