on either side of me as I stare straight ahead, his face just by my ear. “I like you, and I know that you can see that. I’ve liked you since the day I first saw you two years ago, way before the guys even knew where to find you.”
“You’ve been watching me for two years?”
“Mmhmm. I was there the first time you visited the back end of a shady club and discovered that adrenaline rush of beating the shit out of someone. You were out of control and you nearly broke your hand,” he says, his fingers brushing over the brass knuckles that sit over my fingers. “Where do you think this came from?”
My head snaps around and I meet his stare. “This was from you?” I ask, remembering the day that I’d ‘found’ them. They were shoved into my locker at my new school and I figured the previous student left them, which meant that I had every right to take them.
Grayson just nods and continues. “I’ve watched you so closely, that for a while, I thought I knew you better than you knew yourself, but then you came bulldozing your way in here, and you’re surprising the fucking shit out of me. I don’t know you at all, Elodie, but a part of me wants to, while the other … that part is still waiting for this all to blow up in our faces.”
“That’s why you’re keeping an arm’s distance from me?”
“See,” he says, a cocky tone in his deep voice, “you’re getting it already.”
I turn in my seat and he instantly pulls back from me, so I stand and step into him, making it impossible for him to avoid me. “Don’t do that,” I tell him. “Stop masking your emotions with your cocky, bullshit attitude.”
His eyes harden but I don’t let him get away with it. “You’re not scared of it blowing up in your face, you’re scared of falling for me,” I challenge. “You’re not the only one who’s watching, Grayson. I see you too. I see the way you’re always the first to throw yourself in front of me, always the first to stand in front of Carver when he gets in one of his bullshit moods. You always have an excuse, but I see you. You want me, but you’re too shit scared to grab what you want and take it even when it’s standing right in front of you.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I roll my eyes. “Here we go with the excuses again. What’s it going to be this time? You’re only protecting me because it’s the right thing to do for Dynasty? Is it the best thing for your friends who are already emotionally involved? Are you protecting me from Carver, who’ll never forgive himself if he were to actually hurt me? Be fucking real with me.”
“I CAN’T TAKE WHAT I FUCKING WANT,” he roars, grabbing me and spinning us around until I’m backed up against the wall. “Don’t you see? You’re already falling for Carver and you don’t even like him. You have King and Cruz hanging off a string and pining for you, so am I just supposed to be the fourth dickhead who waits in line for his turn? Fuck off, babe. This sharing thing is all fun and games for now, but you’re already messing with Carver’s head, and you see how fucked up he is over you. He treats you like shit because he can’t work out if he fucking loves you or hates you, and you, you fucking let him do it.”
I stare up at him with fury burning beneath the surface, and that same urge to hit something is building rapidly. “You know what? I fucking love it when Carver throws me up against a wall and yells at me. Sure, he’s toxic as fuck, but at least I get some emotions out of him, something real. I read him best when he’s in my face and losing control. But you, you just treat me like shit because you’re pissed at yourself for not having the balls to make a fucking move.”
“It’s not like that.”
I shove my hands into his chest and push him back. “It’s exactly like that,” I tell him, pushing off the wall and stepping around him, the wild flurry of emotions brimming at the surface, so close that I could break.
Why does it have to be so hard with both Grayson and Carver? They’re