Page 36 of Spin The Bottle
I close my eyes, picturing her in my head, tucked in that tight, black dress of hers, hair spread all over my pillow as she tried her hardest not to look at me.
I didn’t look away. Couldn’t. The whole time I spent tracing her features in the dark, the way her lips parted when she let out a breath, the way she tucked her hands underneath her head when she was pretending to sleep.
I really thought she’d spend the night with me, and we’d wake up together in the morning. I’d make her breakfast, talk about last night, about how much I want to do it again.
But none of that can happen because she left.
I sit up, grab my phone from my nightstand, and find her name.
You left?
I don’t even know if she’s awake right now. Don’t even know if she got home safe, if she’s ok.
Last night was…
I can’t get it out of my mind.
Text me if you’re alive.
I press send, and let out a sigh, pulling the covers over me and let sleep take over.
By the time I manage to get myself out of bed, it’s way past breakfast. I pull the covers back, needing some water, some fresh air… something.
I trail down the stairs, heading to the kitchen, when I hear Grayson’s voice echo through this big ass house his parents bought for him.
I barely make it two steps into the kitchen when I see Grayson and Rosalie acting all cute and shit as he hugs her from behind, Rosie squealing when he buries his head in her neck. I cross my arms, just watching them for a second, and then clear my throat.
His head snaps up, and Rosie gasps as she turns around. A laugh escapes me watching her try to hide her flushed cheeks from me.
Grayson, as usual, scowls at me. “We weren’t even doing anything,” he grits out.
“PDA gives me hives,” I joke, grabbing a glass from the cabinet.
He snorts out a laugh. “I thought the same before I met her,” he says, glancing over at Rosie. A shy smile grows on her face and she leans in to give him a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.
I groan. “Come on.” As much as I love those two, some things need to be kept private.
They break apart and Rosie offers me a smile. “You wouldn’t be like this if you found yourself a girlfriend,” she says, lifting her brows.
I laugh. “Got it.” That’s not going to happen anytime soon. Girlfriends are distractions, another thing to take my time away from what really matters. Basketball.
She shrugs before dumping a bag of popcorn—plus candy—into a bowl. “I’ll be with the girls,” she says to her boyfriend, before giving him a quick kiss and heading out of the kitchen.
My ears perk up. The girls?
Grayson grabs a beer from the fridge, cracking it open, the sound making me flinch.
It never goes away. The noises my brain reprogrammed to mean a beating was coming, the sound of their footsteps when they were having a bad day. The way a can of beer was opened right before you got bruised ribs. It plays in my mind, every time I hear it, like a horror movie I can’t turn off.
“You good?” Grayson asks making me snap out of the memories.
I shake my head, try to regain a little control. “Yeah,” I breathe out.
His eyebrows knot together as he takes a sip of the beer. “You look weird.”
“What do you mean?”
His hand gestures to my head. “Your… hair. It’s weird.”
