I not only know who Grayson “The Legend” is…I’ve also slept with him.
Now she’s going to know why I’ve always been so obsessive about his fights. Why I’ve never been able to find a decent guy to date.
After spending hours with Grayson, she’s going to know the exact same thing I’ve always realized: no one else compares.
When I take a spot on the couch, I curl my legs under me and reach for one of the hotel’s blankets nearby to cover my always-cold feet.
Sarah sits in the chair next to me, and I wait for Grayson to fill our coffee mugs before I begin speaking. His sinewy arms and ridged abs are only slightly distracting.
Yeah…right.
“This explains so much,” Sarah murmurs when he leaves the room.
“You can’t tell him,” I whisper-hiss, glaring at her so she knows I’m serious.
“You know I wouldn’t.”
I do. She’d never intentionally hurt me.
“So we became friends when we were fourteen. Both of us were awkward. Loners. His family was worse than mine and he saw me one day with a split lip from my dad.” I shrug when Sarah frowns. Her parents are like the Brady Bunch, only a much wealthier version, and she’s always felt horrible when it comes to hearing about my family. “Anyway, he saw it, he helped me, and we were friends ever since. Then…”
I pull in a deep breath, trying not to remember what those last few years were like.
Grayson always running off with another girl. Sure, he was always there for me—he cast the girls aside when I needed him, but I still had to watch, seething with jealousy, knowing he’d never find me as attractive as he found them. I was never stick-thin, never model, front-page, photoshopped beautiful like other women. It took me a few years after my night with Grayson to fully embrace my wider hips that come with a bigger ass and an even bigger chest. But at five foot eight, I carry my curves well.
Sarah sits back in her chair, coffee mug in one hand, wiggling the fingers of her other hand in a come-hither motion. “Get to the good stuff.”
I look around the room, noticing Grayson still hasn’t returned, and breathe a sigh of relief. Fortifying my shaky nerves with a strong dose of caffeine, I take a quick sip and set the mug to the side.
“Fine,” I huff. “He grew about six inches one summer, added about thirty pounds of bulk to him, and all the girls wanted him. He took everyone who jumped in his path, but always kept me in the friend zone.”
“That’s because you were too important.”
I jump at the sound of his voice and turn around on the couch. His arms are crossed over his chest, shoulder leaning against a doorframe, his feet crossed at the ankles.
He looks spectacular and I turn away before I start to drool.
“So the night of my twentieth birthday, when I was home from college, I did what I always wanted to do.” I turn back to Sarah. I try to ignore the weight of his presence behind me, hating that I’m even going to admit this with him so close. But I have nothing to lose, and I already confessed everything last night. Almost everything. “I wanted Grayson, so after he took me out for my birthday, I made my move. Then the next morning, when I told him I was in love with him, he threw on his clothes and walked out my bedroom door.”
“Harsh,” Sarah says, her voice a whisper. Her eyes flicker to Grayson. “Explain?”
Behind me, he says, “I came from scum. I was scum, and knew I was never going to be anything better than scum. Kennedy deserved more. I wouldn’t have had sex with her that night if I knew how she felt.”
Sarah arches her eyebrows. “How noble of you.”
I roll my eyes at her sarcasm.
“It made me lose my best friend. Nothing was worth that,” he snaps.
I scowl, facing the front, feeling my blood pressure spike. I’m right back to where I was last night—hurt and angry all over again. “Only because you walked away from her.”
“And now?” Sarah asks, her expression serious. I can see her putting the pieces together even as she asks the questions. Her eyes flicker to mine with the silent demand that I’ll explain the full story later.
“Now I want whatever she’ll give me. However I can have it.”
My breath stalls in my throat. My chest tightens. I wasn’t expecting this.
I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for my response, but I can’t say anything. I don’t even know what to say. The last twenty-four hours has been such a whirlwind, I’m still having a hard time believing Grayson is with me right now.
“I think that’s my cue to go.” Sarah stands and leans over, giving my knee a comforting squeeze.
Lifting my head, I meet her gaze that’s sad and happy all at the same time.
She flashes me one of her wicked grins before letting go of me. “Now, I’m going to find Lynx or Landon…or maybe both.”
With a skip and a hop, she disappears down one of the long hallways in the suite and I watch her, envying her ability to always be so settled, so confident. Yet I know she wasn’t always this way, either. It took her years of therapy after the deaths she’d caused, and even more time spent speaking to teenagers about texting while driving for her to claim she’s been able to let the guilt go. She would say that having the forgiveness of Nicole Walters was what finally helped her. Personally, I just think Sarah is one of the strongest and bravest people I’ve ever met.
“Well?” Grayson asks. His deep, one-word question rumbles over me and draws me back to the present.
I go back to staring at my knees. It’s safer than looking at him.
“I don’t know what I want, Grayson,” I finally admit. His shadow falls over me and I see his feet appear in front of me. “You hurt me, and I don’t think I ever got over that.” Pathetic. Six years I’ve pined after someone, and now that he’s here I’m too much of a chickenshit to do anything.
He crouches down and his large hands cover my knees. He wiggles them, playfully shaking me back and forth until I can’t stop my smile.
“What do you want?” I ask.
The smile fades from his lips when I catch his gaze. Sad blue eyes look back at me and make my chest hurt. “I want your friendship back.”
Friendship. I roll the word over in my mouth, cringing at the sour taste it leaves. “What if I can’t give that to you?”
There’s no way I can. Nothing has changed for me. I may not know how he lives anymore, but at his core, I know the kind of man he is. He’s the same guy I’ve always wanted—just in a larger, more muscled and sexier package. Being his friend again, watching him run through a line of women, will kill me all over again.
“Then I want this.”
He leans forward, our noses almost touching. His grip on my legs tightens before he slides his hands up my thighs.
Everything inside me sparks. Parts of me that have lain dormant for too many years come alive as he leans in even closer.
I shift back slightly so I can see his eyes. “What?”
“This,” he repeats and presses his lips to mine.
I gasp instantly, shocked from his kiss and how well I remember his taste. His tongue slides against my lips, coaxing them to open further. I feel a hand leave my thigh and move to the back of my neck. He holds me still while he takes his time, tasting every corner of my lips and my mouth. When I slide my tongue out, hesitantly touching the tip of his, a growl is ripped from deep in his throat. I feel that sound down to the tips of my toes and I arch into him.
I’m panting, and my hands grip onto his shoulder, trying to pull him closer.
I mewl into his mouth, and just as I make the sound, him swallowing it and sliding his tongue against mine, he’s suddenly gone.
I blink rapidly when I see the look of horror on his face. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, as if needing to remove the taste of me.
I’m still breathless, still tasting him, and he’s already wiping the memory of me away.
I’m such a fool.
I’m also a bitch—a completely selfish bitch—because I want to taste him again. Immediately. Even knowing the cost.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
I should have never gone to that stupid fucking fight.
“Yeah,” I say, my chin quivering. I look away from him and stare out the large windows, seeing the Las Vegas skyline and nothing all at the same time. “I’ve heard that before.”
I jump from my spot on the couch, pushing him out of the way so he doesn’t see my tears.
God, I’m so…so freaking stupid. It’s just like last time. I want too much, want him too much. And he wants me…not at all.
“Stop, Kennedy.”
I don’t. Snatching my coffee mug from the table, I force myself to hustle double-time to the kitchen. I’ve just filled up another cup of coffee and I’m looking in the fridge for some breakfast when I sense him come up behind me.
I really should have just left. Screw Sarah. She can find her own way home when she’s done messing around with the twins. Ew.
I cringe at the thought.
“Kennedy. Please, talk to me.”
“Nothing to talk about,” I say with my head deep in the refrigerator. All I see is healthy crap—fruits and vegetables and more sludge-like green drinks. Gross.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”