“Yeah, I have a few things I need to do.” Like wash my hair.
“You’re going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you?” he asks, smiling so both of his dimples pop out.
I shift on my feet, and look in the direction of my apartment. “I’m not trying to make anything difficult for anyone.”
“Hey,” he says, stepping closer to me and putting his warm palm on my cheek. He gently turns my head to look at him. “Will you let me take you out sometime? On a date?”
My eyes widen. “A date?”
He gives me a full-blown megawatt smile, and my mouth opens slightly.
“Yes, a date,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip before dropping his hand.
“You’re very… forward,” I mutter under my breath, feeling a little awkward being put on the spot like this. My eyes dart around before landing back on his face.
He licks his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. And those eyes. I’ve heard the saying ‘smile with your eyes’ before, but I’ve never actually seen someone smile with their eyes until now. The way he’s looking at me… I bite the inside of my cheek.
“When I want something, I tend to go for it,” he says, patiently waiting for me to reply.
Of course he does. “Look, Grayson—” I start, but he interrupts.
“You don’t have to answer now,” he says, smiling down at me. He leans forward and says quietly, “I’m a very patient man.”
With that, he turns away and mounts his motorcycle. I don’t watch him ride away; instead, I turn and walk home, his comments replaying over and over in my head.
Chapter Three
I’m having lunch the next day, under a tree, when Grayson joins me. “Is this going to be our lunch spot for the rest of the semester?” he asks casually, sitting down and pulling out a red apple.
“It’s going to be mine,” I reply, giving him a pointed look. He smiles, taking a bite of his fruit.
“Tell me something about you,” he says, turning his body to face me.
“Like what?”
“Anything,” he replies, staring at me with kind eyes. I sigh, and give in, racking my brain for something to tell him, and come up with nothing.
He laughs. “You really don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
I shrug. “I don’t really have anything to say.”
“I seriously doubt that,” he says. A group of three guys walking over toward us causes me to puff out a sigh. “What’s wrong?” Grayson instantly asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
He follows my line of sight and nods knowingly. “Don’t worry about them; they’re harmless.”
“Hey, Grayson, who’s the hottie?” the first guy asks.
Grayson turns to me. “Paris, meet Jake, Trent, and Daniel.”
“Hi,” I say, not sounding very friendly at all. I don’t meant to be rude, but I don’t want people to know me here. I want to be anonymous. It’s safer for me that way, and it sure as hell is safer for my reputation. I don’t want people talking about me. Sure, I’m strong enough to handle it if it happens, but that doesn’t mean I want it to happen. That’s why I left Melbourne, for a fresh start. It seems that hanging around Grayson isn’t helping me achieve my goal of being invisible.
“She’s taken,” Grayson adds, not looking at me.
“I’ll bet,” the one named Trent replies. He narrows his eyes on me slightly, watching me as he continues. “You going to come hang with us?” he asks Grayson.
“I’ll see you later. Paris and I need to talk about something,” he answers. They each give Grayson a handshake and then leave, one giving me a curious look.
“What do we have to talk about?” I ask curiously.
Grayson leans back against the tree and closes his eyes. “You don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to.”
“So you’re happy to sit here in silence?” I ask.
“Sure, comfortable silence sounds good to me,” he replies, pulling out his iPod and offering me one of the earphones. I smile and accept it from his hand. When I put it in my ear, I nod my head in approval when I hear the voice of Ed Sheeran.
Grayson turns to me, his face so close we’re almost touching. “I’ll make you a deal,” he says softly.
“A deal?” I ask, staring into his eyes.
“You tell me your favourite song. If it’s on here,” he says pointing to his iPod, “you have to go on a date with me.”
I smirk, because there is no way in hell my favourite song is on there. “And if I win?”
“Then I won’t ask you out again,” he says, and my face drops slightly. He’s giving up on me already? I mentally curse myself, because this would be the best option.
“I’ll wait until you tell me you want to go out with me,” he adds, nibbling on his bottom lip.
“Okay, you’re on.”
“You can’t make up a random song, you have to promise that it’s your actual all-time favourite song,” he says, his dark eyes sparkling with humour.
“You want to pinky promise?” I joke, holding out my pinky.
He tilts his head and looks like he’s thinking it over. “Yes. I think we should. I know you don’t want this date,” he says, looking amused.
I roll my eyes and hold out my little finger, the nail covered in purple polish. He links his pinky with mine, and we shake on it.