Page 53 of Pucking Grey

I nod. “Okay, just us.”

“And keep it between us.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“And,” he begins. “I hope we’re still talking to each other.”

My throat constricts at the sound of his voice saying those words. To bear witness that he’s mentioning anything long-term must mean something, right? Or am I just overthinking it? I will have to chew on this sentence for a while because did we just become friends? Well, no, that’s not possible because he claims men and women can’t be friends. So, does this mean that he likes me? No, that can’t be it because then this would be really awkward right now.Maybe he just likes your company, Maddie. Or should I call myself bunny?What if I start liking him? Shit-cabob. No, this is friendly and innocent. No feelings are starting over here. None. Zero.

“Me too,” I whisper. “So, we still have a long way to go. Do you want to stop at the next stop for some snacks and gas?”

He nods.

When we’re inside the gas station picking snacks, I reach for the starbursts and a chocolate bar. Grey is in the aisle over. I think he’s picking out chips. I watch the top of his head as he walks back and forth. His hair is dark and wavy. I grab the Sour Patch Kids candy for him. I walk to his aisle, browsing what else I want to snack on for the drive. Truthfully this candy will last me ten minutes, and I definitely need chips. He has a bag of Doritos and Cheetos. When he notices me, he says, “I take you for a Cheeto girl.”

I look at the orange bag, and I hate to admit he’s right. “What makes you so sure?” His brow furrows with a hidden smirk on his lips, and my heart flutters. I study his face, my expression dropping. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but suddenly the flutter is deep in my gut. I shift my body weight to my other leg because I’m nervous for some reason. This Greyson – he let his walls down, he hopes that we’re still talking a year from now, and he’s smiling. It feels like my stomach is twisting, begging for this to go back in time and force him on that bus. I do not know this side of Greyson. And I’m not sure how to handle it.

“What? Am I wrong?” he asks, clutching at the bag.

I have to shake myself from whatever just happened there. His dark brown hair makes his blue eyes pop, and this is my issue right now: his eyes areblue, not gray. It’s like a visual mood ring and right now I can tell those walls are down. I don’t know if I can take what happens when he reverts back to gray eyes.Morally Grey.If I could somehow find a way to preserve his current mood, I wouldn’t be so filled with anxiety. I can talk to this version of him, tease him, and enjoy his company.

“You’re a Doritos girl?” he asks, holding up the bag in his other hand. Again, I’m shaken out of hypnosis. He’s picking chips just for me?

“Cheetos, for sure,” I smile, stealing the bag from his palm. He smiles at me, but I try not to look. My stomach can’t take it. I walk past him and spin on my heel to face him. “I take you for a Sour Patch Kids person.”

He chews his lips, looking at what else is in my hands. He shakes his head, stealing my chocolate bar. “I’ll take this.”

“Hey, that one’s mine!” I reach for it as he holds it high above my head.

“Grab your own,” he teases.

I pinch his nipple and twist. He jerks back, laughing.

I know.

I should keep my hands to myself, but I grew up with brothers and learned how to get my way in the quickest way possible, and I play dirty. He’s rubbing his nipple and laughing. “Ow! What was that for?”

I know I shouldn’t have violated him like that. I instantly regretted it because I felt how muscular his pecks were. I have to remain stern. “For stealing my chocolate. Get your own.” I hold my hand out so that he can give it to me, but he shakes his head.

“Are you telling me no?” I scoff, stepping forward. Now he nods and takes a step back. And now he’s running away from me.Running!So I’m chasing after him in this tiny gas station store. There are three aisles, and he’s running down each of them. He’s peeking over the top of the aisles to tease me.

“Hey,” the worker from the counter calls out. “Please don’t run. There’s water leaking and we don’t need either of you slipping.”

“Yeah, Greyson.”

I grab my own chocolate bar and meet Grey at the checkout. He also grabbed a water. I reach for his chest to mess with him, and he blocks my hand. “I need water too.”

He grabs my shoulder and says, “I’ll get it for you.”

I wiggle my eyebrows at him becausethat’s right.

When he comes back, he places the bottle on the counter and says to me, “Don’t get used to the princess treatment because I refuse to be abitch.”

The worker stares at us like we’re crazy as Greyson pays for gas and snacks.

He throws the bag in the car and reaches for the gas nuzzle. I shake my head, reaching to take it from him. “My car, so I get to stick that in.”

“I got here first,” he says.

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