I know not every guy is Braiden, but I still find myself drowning in memories of my ex, the star quarterback at my high school and one hundred percent gorgeous. I never thought he’d be interested in me, but during a project we got paired up on, we ended up making out in my room. One hot and heavy make out session led to secret weekend hookups. Deep down, I think I always knew things would end badly. Braiden wasn’t openly gay and refused to see me outside the four walls of my garage. What I didn’t expect was our relationship to end in such an ugly and brutal way.
I flinch at the memory and head back to the booth with Luke to join Callie and Kayden, who are engulfed in an intense conversation. While I’m curious about what they’re discussing, my thoughts are still caught up in Greyson and the look on his face when he walked away.
He saw the fear inside me, the façade I put on that I’m always okay, always happy, all smiles, sunshine, and freakin’ bedazzled unicorns.
On our way out of the restaurant, I contemplate talking to Callie about Greyson, but she’s still pretty frustrated with me over inviting Kayden and Luke to dinner.
“I’m so going to get you back for this,” she hisses under her breath as we head to the car.
“Why?” I whisper innocently. “I thought it went pretty well.”
“It did, except for…” She bites her lip and looks down at her hands.
“Except for what?”
“Except for when you left, Kayden tried to thank me and then he touched my hand.” She wrings her hands in front of her with her head tipped down. “I freaked out and he probably thinks I’m even more of a weirdo then he did before.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I sneak a peek at Kayden. His attention is focused solely on Callie, the worried look on his face proof of exactly how concerned he is about her.
“I really don’t think that’s what he’s thinking,” I tell her in a low voice.
She peers up at me. “Why not?”
Sliding my arm around her, I shoot her a grin rather than answer her question, realizing she’s not ready to hear my predictions regarding the Callie/Kayden debacle. Sometimes you can just tell people belong together. Sometimes you just know.
Knowing is the easiest part. It’s accepting and opening up that’s complicated.
***
The weeks drift by in a sea of mind-numbing schoolwork. I spend a lot of my free time with Callie, and during class, I pretend not to notice Greyson. His hot-as-hell presence torments me, but I don’t attempt to talk to him. I’m too mortified over my behavior at the restaurant and frustrated with myself for letting my past control me. Since life doesn’t offer mulligans, I do the only thing I can. I just go with the flow.
I’ve just about convinced myself that I’m over my crush on Greyson when he leans toward me right in the middle of the professor’s lecture. Just like that, I’m right back where I started. Completely obsessed.
“So, do you get anything he’s saying?” he whispers under his breath.
My initial instinct is to look around and see if anyone is watching us, but I get caught up in the delicious scent of his cologne and blank out. “Yeah, a little bit.”
His brow crooks. “You said you weren’t a fan of school.”
“Yeah, I’m not. It doesn’t mean that I suck at all my classes, though. I just prefer not to have my head crammed with mostly useless knowledge.”
His gaze drops to his open textbook then lands back at me. “Maybe you could tutor me, then. English isn’t really my forte.”
I question whether he’s being serious or just using tutoring as an excuse to hang out. “What is your forte? Because I’m really curious.” My flirty tone comes out and shocks me a little.
“Photography.” He pats his bag, where a camera strap is hanging out. “I actually got a scholarship. That’s part of the reason why I ended up here.”
The professor dismisses class and we start to gather our stuff.
“Seriously? That’s fucking cool.” I glance down at his bag as I stand to my feet and stretch out my arms. “Can I see some of your photos or is that too personal, like people with their journals?”
“No, it’s okay.” He gets to his feet, unzips his bag, and pulls out his camera.
“Are you sure? Sometimes I have issues with crossing the boundaries of personal space. Or so I’ve been told. Personally, I don’t see it.”
He chuckles as he taps a button, the screen lights up, and he hands it to me. “No, I promise you’re cool. A lot of my photos have been entered in contests, so tons of people have seen them.”
“Awesome.” I hold the camera in my hands and try to figure out how to get to the slideshow.
He leans over, pressing a button on the screen, and his fingers brush mine before he pulls away. My stomach spins like a disco ball, but I focus on flipping through the photos.
Scrolling through each one, I notice a few landscapes, but most are of people. In each shot, he manages to capture a passionate sense of emotion. “Wow, these are amazing.”
I’m a little stunned when I recognize the people in the next frame. I stop, staring down at a photo of me laughing with Callie outside on a bench. I tap to the next one and then the next, both of which are of me. In fact, the next twenty are all of me. Some I look happy in, but in a few, I see the pain I always carry with me.
I look over at Greyson. “When did you take these?”
With his brows furrowed, he leans over to see what I’m looking at. Then his eyes widen. “Fuck, I forgot those were on there.” He snatches the camera away from me, shuts it off, and stuffs it into his bag. “I swear I’m not a stalker. I just saw you on the first day of school and,” he slings his bag over his arm, and then fiddles with a leather bracelet on his wrist, “I don’t know, I just wanted to take pictures of you.”
He’s so embarrassed he’s actually blushing, which is quite possibly the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
“It’s okay,” I tease, falling right back into the flirty again, for a moment being the old Seth. “I know how irresistible I can be.”
A small smile rises on his lips as we head out of the classroom. “So, you’re not completely weirded out?”
I shake my head. “Oddly, I’m kind of flattered, but that’s probably the attention whore side of me speaking.”