Page 121 of Built to Fall
“Night, pretty girl,” he whispers.
“Night, Grant,” I whisper back.
For a second, I think that’s it. But then he slowly reaches across the narrow gap between us, his fingers brushing lightly against my hand where it rests on the bed.
And when I don’t pull away, when I let my fingers thread through his instead, I feel him exhale a breath.
Neither of us says anything else. We stay like that, hands tangled under the covers, breathing each other in, the night stretching quietly around us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
GRANT
The next morning, Lina and I touch back down in New Haven, where another car is waiting to take us back to campus.
Christmas break isn’t even technically over yet, but since it’s now January, I have a bowl game to play in a few days. It made more sense to come straight here. Lina didn’t mind joining me since Eden, Meredith, and Kara are already planning on going to the game, and when she talked to them on the phone early this morning, they had all agreed to go together.
It’s also New Year’s Eve, making the decision for us all to be together back at the apartment even easier.
When we woke up in Martha’s Vineyard, tangled together in my bed, I was convinced everything would be uncomfortable between us.
I thought the unexpectedness of us kissing last night was going to wash over like a tide we couldn’t outrun, pulling us both under. But, when I rolled over to try and escape from under her hold before she stirred awake, her arms tightened around me, pulling me back into her.
I didn’t say anything, just buried my face in the crook of her neck as though it was the most natural thing in the world, likewe hadn’t crossed a line that should’ve changed everything. And somehow, it didn’t. Somehow, we stayed in that soft moment, wrapped up in each other like there was no before and no after. Only now.
We eventually dragged ourselves out of bed and packed up our things, leaving the island that felt like it was made entirely of borrowed time.
But Lina is a contradiction all in herself. I can tell the idea of a hookup makes her apprehensive, and it makes sense given her past experiences. I also know that she finds something about the idea intriguing—she wouldn’t have asked me if I could make her come if she didn’t.
And now all it has me thinking about is how I want to be the one to do it. I want to prove to her that the reason she’s never had an orgasm is because her ex-boyfriend—the same one who cheated on her—never gave a damn.
Now, sitting beside her in the backseat of the car, the world feels heavier again. Campus is getting closer with every passing mile, and I can already feel the weight of everything we left unsaid settling between us.
My fingers tap against my knee, a steady, anxious rhythm I barely realized I was doing at first.
Out of the corner of my eye, I feel Lina’s gaze burning into me. When I turn fully, her eyes are locked on mine.
“You okay?” I ask. Usually it’smegetting caught staring at her, not the other way around.
She nods half-heartedly. “Yeah. I had a lot of fun on the island.”
“I’m glad.” It would have been even better if I could have given her an orgasm, but time didn’t quite work in our favor. “You’ll have to come back some time. I’m sure my sisters would love it if they could be there.”
“I’d love that.”
Right then, the driver pulls into the parking lot of our apartment complex. I open the door, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her across the bench so she can exit on the same side as me.
I hold a hand up to the driver, letting him know he doesn’t have to get our bags for us. Lina and I both head for the trunk, and before she can, I grab both of our bags, starting to carry them toward the front steps.
“I can take it.” She doesn’t try to, but she has to let me know that this is something she can do for herself, even though I insist on helping.
“I know. I’m glad you let me feel useful.”
That’s what I also brush it off as. Anytime I do something for her—no matter how much of it is for my own peace of mind—I let her believe it’s because I’m simply a nice guy, not because I’m completely spiraling.
And carrying her bag might be just that—me being nice—but everything else? It all stems from the fact that I can’t stand to let anything be out of my control.
We make our way toward the elevator, and for the first few seconds of the ride up to our floor, I think Lina’s going to ignore me.
