Page 5 of Only for Love

CHAPTER THREE

Senior Year…

Emma

A million middle-of-the-night conversations passed through our adjoining air vent as I lay on my bed and my sister Cherry did the same in her room. She used to tell me secrets through the slats while we knocked our heels against the wall and chatted in the dark.

I’m sure our deep giggles were broadcast to the entire house. They probably gave our folks heart failure because, even when Cherry was a kid, she was a handful. Mom would come up and tell us to go to bed. Dad would come up and tell us to stop scuffing the walls—but then he’d tuck us in. Twenty seconds later, we’d be on our backs again, feet in the air, knocking and scuffing and telling secrets.

When Cherry left for college, everything changed. I lost my sounding board. She might be three years older, but she was my confidant. I saw the world vicariously through her eyes. She never had a negative outlook on life, never thought she wasn’t the center of attention, but she always held my hand, doling out amazing, albeit unconventional advice. I really miss her.

Lying on my back with Grayson on my mind, I look at the vent and knock my heels against the wall, trying to imagine what Cherry would say about the debacle at lunch today—

Knock, knock.

I turn my head, and there’s my problem. In the span of a second, my languid musings about my festering crush are replaced by the slow mind-meld that is Grayson Ford.

“Hey, Gray.” I swear, each day he grows bigger, and his eyes become more vibrant. All he does is work out. Baseball season is about over, yet he’s training like he’s eyeing the Olympics. I don’t get it, but I’m able to appreciate the benefits of his grueling regimen.

“Hey, you. We’ve gotta talk.”

My stomach drops as I swallow the burst of lust that I’ve become accustomed to when he shows up. I sit up from probably the most unattractive position: legs up, head down, kicked back on my bed. Or maybe it’s the most provocative, if I were the provocative type.I wish I were.

His eyes track my legs to my face. I really shouldn’t lie upside down if there’s even the slightest chance he’ll show up. A fire heats up my neck and into my cheeks. I don’t have a clue about the type of flirting that would be in Gray’s league. When it comes to him, I’m an expert on unrequited desire. Perks of being just a friend…

“You ran out of school today like your ass was on fire.” He bounds a couple huge steps and flops down next to me. The entire bed shifts, and the addictive scent of his soap invades my space.

I turn to my side and take in his profile. Shower-wet hair, cheeks that are starting to chisel as he grows into a physique that doesn’t look remind me of any other guy’s in our school. He’s more of a man every day, and I feel more like an awkward nerd girl.

“Tell me you’re not pissed about earlier.” He turns to his side to face me, and I bite my lip. He takes up most of my twin bed. Mom and Dad would freak if it were anyone but Grayson. Their “no boys in my room” rule was carved into stone during my freshman year when Ryan’s friends started hanging around—sniffing around, as Dad says. But I say that’s a big, fat laugh. Their room-rule doesn’t apply to Gray, though.

He reaches over our heads and grabs my iPod, shoving an ear bud in his ear and one in mine. A few scrolls later, music blasts. It’s kinda emo, a little deep, nothing that I expect he’d choose. The vocals croon about heartache, about how the future is a blur. The beat drops low, and the bass rolls through my body. Even though Gray’s so close, or maybe because of it, I feel my blood thumping.

“Now that…” Slowly, he nabs the lone ear bud from me. Our eyes lock. “I’d pay to see you dance to.”

“Grayson,” I whisper as a fever hits my neck, bleeding through me. When he looks like this—acts like it too—I don’t know what’s for real and what’s in my head.

“Been talking to your wall?”

I stifle a cringe. He knows me so well it hurts. “Something like that.”

“About me?” He smiles, but it’s not a joke. Everything feels different. His voice sounds different. His touches have been longer, his stares deeper, and right now, he’s not pulling back from his question. “Nothing to say, Ems?”

Without an answer to give him, I roll back to stare at the ceiling.

He groans. “You’re mad at me, right?”

Shoot. We’re going to have to talk about today. But I’m clueless. It’s like having what I want served on a platter, but it’s not real.

He nudges my shoulder. “Say something.”

If I stay quiet another second, he’s going to think I’m nuts. Protecting my heart is my top priority, but I can’t let go of the hope. “Kelly Reynolds will probably hate me for the rest of my life.”

It’s the best thing I’ve got, talking about something besides him and me but staying on topic. Not bad. But Grayson’s deep laugh surrounds me.

I turn to face him again, and his brilliant smile makes his perfect face radiate. “Kelly Reynolds is a slut.”

True, but that isn’t my issue with her. “She thinks I asked you to Sadie Hawkins.”

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