Page 117 of Built to Fall
“Right, right, the masses,” he says, still smirking, but the tension is thick in his tone now. “You seriously think I give a shit about what anyone else thinks?”
I don’t want to look at him, not when I can feel the question lingering between us, and not when I can feel something else creeping up inside me—something I can’t quite explain.
It’s why I don’t say anything. At the same time, he goes silent for a long moment, and when I glance up, I can see that he’s not playing anymore. He’s watching me.
“I don’t care about the attention, or what the girls I’ve hooked up with have been spreading around campus,” he says quietly, his voice low, almost like he’s talking to himself. “It’s easier, you know? When it doesn’t mean anything. No strings. Just… sex. No mess. No attachment.”
There’s an edge to his words, and I realize too late that I’ve stumbled into something bigger than I meant to.
I can’t help but wonder what the reason is. Grant is too nice of a guy to avoid commitment in the way he does.
“Is that what it is between you and Savannah?” Him hooking up with his best friend’s twin sister—who’s also his friend—doesn’t exactly scream no strings attached.
He falters at the question. “It might not seem like it, but in terms of sex, that’s all it is between us.”
I raise a brow at him.
It forces him to continue. “Neither of us was interested in relationships. When we first hooked up, it was supposed to be one time, but it became an easy arrangement of sorts. We were already friends because of Braxton, and we kind of just added orgasms to the mix.”
I try to think about the sex I had with Gage, wondering if the reason I don’t see sex in the same light as Grant is because I don’t have much to go off of.
The only person I’ve had sex with is the same person who took my virginity when I was sixteen and then the one who cheated on me with my best friend. That memory is burned in the back of my mind.
Plus, it was never exactly a wondrous experience. It kind of felt like something I wassupposedto do, like a box I had to check off. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t special, either. Gage was nice enough about it, but he was always so focused on himself. I told myself it was fine.
Maybe with Grant it would be diff—No.I quickly force myself to push the thought away.
Swallowing hard, I try not to let my face reveal what I was imagining. “I just don’t think sex is something that could ever bethatgood.”
I shouldn’t have said it, because the incredulous look Grant shoots my way makes me feel as though he’s seeing right through me—as if he’s easily identified that my ex sucked. I’m not sure why the idea embarrasses me. It’s not like that’s any reflection of me.
But now, by opening my big mouth, I’ve made it a reflection of myself.
“You are fucking thewrongguys, then,” is all Grant says.
Maybe the fact that Gage couldn’t make me come should have been a sign of the kind of guy he wasbeforehe cheated on me.
“Has there ever been a girl that you haven’t been able to give an orgasm?” I feel the need to ask.
Grant shakes his head like he can’t believe the turn this conversation has taken. He leans back on the couch, slinging an arm casually over the back of it, his grin lazy but his eyes locked right on mine.
“No,” he says easily, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But sometimes it takes a bit of work. Every girl is different.”
I can feel my entire body combust into flames. I practically melt into the floor, trying not to wonder whether my body is actuallydifferentfrom others or if there’s something faulty with it.
Despite trying to push the thoughts away, his confidence in his abilities makes me wonder if it wasmyfault my experience with Gage was so unpleasant. My mind lingers on what it would be like with Grant. I can’t help it.
“Do you think there are some girls who just can’t?” I keep my eyes on him, not allowing myself to become embarrassed.
Grant’s smirk fades. Not gone, just softer. “I think there are girls who have never been with a guy who gives a shit to take the time to figure them out. It’s not as simple as knowing where the clit is—it’s reading cues and understanding what someone likes versus what they don’t.”
“Good to know.”
“Good to know?” Grant meets my gaze then, and for a second, I can’t breathe. He leans forward, his hands resting on his knees, like he’s about to say something he doesn’t want to. “Are you telling me you’ve never?—”
“I didn’ttellyou anything,” I cut in.
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His tone isn’t teasing or cruel. It sounds like he’sconcernedfor me.Great.
