“I just want to forget it ever happened… But I have all these scars on my arm that won’t allow it… It’s why I’m so afraid to be with you. Like be with you, be with you.”

“God, I hate that they did this to you,” he says as he finishes drying my tears. “I wish I could make it go away somehow. Tell me what to do. Please.”

“I wish you could make it go away, too, but unfortunately you can’t… You can make it better for a little while, though.”

“How?”

Without giving a verbal answer, I lean forward and smash my lips to his. With a gasp, he splays his fingers across my cheeks and opens his mouth, deepening the kiss. At first I take my time, kissing him slowly, savoring each movement of his tongue, the warmth of his skin when I run my hands up his arms. The best part about it all is the sense of security I feel. I never felt this safe with Braiden. It was always, “Shut and lock the door. I don’t want anyone finding out about us.”

As I lie down on the sofa, Greyson moves over me, covering my body with his. I run my fingers through his hair, tugging hard, and bite at his lip. He groans, grinding against me, and my pulse quickens in both fear and excitement at the feel of him. The slow, teasing burn suddenly shifts to uncontrollable want and I get rock hard inside my jeans. I tug off his shirt and pull him closer, never wanting to let him go.

“Seth,” he whispers through ragged breaths when I trail my hand down his sexy-as-hell stomach.

“You know, you made it sound like you went to the gym every so often.” I trace his muscles with my fingers. “But I’m thinking you must be one of those people who are workout psychotic.”

“Maybe… just… a… little…” He seems severely distracted as I fiddle with the button of his jeans.

I mess around with the button just a bit longer before I undo it, drag down his zipper, and slip my hand down his boxers. He groans when I grasp him, rocking into me. I get lost in the feel of him as I move my hand up and down, getting more turned on by the second.

I raise my head to kiss him, but he pushes back, grabbing the bottom of my shirt and jerking it over my head. He rolls over beside me and I move with him, confused about his intent until he undoes the button of my jeans and gives me exactly what I’m giving him.

I don’t know how to react. Braiden was never like this with me. He was always a taker and I the giver. I think about telling Greyson that, that he’s the only guy that’s ever touched me like this, but my lips can’t seem to function.

I’m not sure how I went from being afraid to kiss and tell my secrets to pouring my heart out and being with him like this. My mind is racing so quickly I can’t keep up, and rather than getting lost in my own head, I cling to Greyson, holding tight all the way to the end.

After things settle down, we lie on the sofa with our foreheads pressed together.

“You okay?” he asks as he struggles to catch his breath.

My heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest as I nod. “I’m more than okay… I’m perfect.”

When I say it, I realize how much truth those words carry and how long it’s been since I felt this way about someone. In fact, I don’t think I ever have. Whatever I’m feeling is completely new and raw and terrifying, but in the best way possible.

I just hope that I can hold onto it.

Chapter 12

Seth

Going home. Le sigh. What can I say about that other than it’s absolute, one hundred percent suckage? My mother is pretending I’m the son she wishes she had, telling every relative that came over for dinner that I fell in love with a girl at college and that I’m majoring in math, of all things. It’s annoying and degrading and I’m one step away from screaming at the top of my lungs who I’m really seeing. I swear to God, I’m going to do it right here in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner.

“Seth, did you hear what your grandmother said?” my mom asks from across the table covered with pies, side dishes, and a turkey.

I look up from my plate and shake my head. “But it doesn’t matter since she can’t even hear with her hearing aide.”

My grandmother smiles at me, confusion swirling in her eyes, while my mother looks she’s contemplating stabbing me with her fork.

“Watch it, young man,” she warns, cutting a piece of turkey. “I’m not going to tolerate your attitude.”

“Then I guess I better not talk.” I stab my fork into my salad, stuff my mouth full, and sarcastically grin at her.

She glares at me, but not wanting to cause a scene, drops the conversation and focuses on my aunt, who’s getting ready to marry husband number five.

After dinner, the family gathers into the living room to reminisce. Half the stories are either embellished, complete bullshit, or just plain dull. Bored out of my mind, I decide to text Callie and see if her trip home is going any better.

Me: Hey, darling. How’s it going? Good, I hope. Did you eat some delicious treats?

Callie: Maybe… But what kind of treats r u talking about?

Me: OMFG!!! Did u? Because I had this really weird feeling that you did.

Callie: Did what?

Me: U know what.

When she doesn’t answer me back, I can’t help but smile. She’s come so far from the girl I met back in the summer and I wish I could be there to hug her or something. Honestly, what I wish is that I could be as brave as she is, say to hell with fear, flip it the bird, and put myself out there for the world to see. Whatever happens, happens and I’d be able to handle it. Instead, I’m sitting in a living room filled with people who believe I’m a math major dating a girl named Sally.