His Trouble Maker

Chapter 52

JESSICA

Grayson never invited me inside his room. I only have that realization once I’m sitting on the edge of his bed and watching him lock his done Funny how you can be so close to someone and still feel miles apart.

The mattress sinks beneath me, the unfamiliar give of it making my stomach tighten. His room smells like him–pine and that expensive Cologne he pretends not to care about. He turns, eyes darker than usual, and takes three deliberate steps toward me. My mouth goes dry

“Where have you been?”

“Just… around,” I manage, hating how defensive it sounds.

Grayson’s jaw tightens. He moves closer, stopping right in front of me. His fingers reach for my chin, tilting my face up to his.

“Around,” he repeats, the word bitter on his tongue. “That’s all I get these days, isn’t it?

He leans down suddenly, his intention clear in the hard set of his shoulders. I turn my head at the last second, his lips grazing my cheek instead of finding my mouth. The kiss that never lands leaves a hollow ache between my ribs.

“Don’t,” I whisper, not sure if I’m talking to him or myself.

He pulls back, hurt flashing across his face before hardening into something colder. I don’t want to kiss him. I don’t want anything that

involves touching him. It makes me feel sick and disgusted.

“When are you going to tell me about your father’s ultimatum?”

His head snaps up, eyes wide. “How did you-”

So, it’s true.

“Does it matter?” My laugh comes out hollow. “What matters is you didn’t tell me.”

I push myself off the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor. The chill shoots up my legs but doesn’t compare to the ice forming around my heart. I pace to the window, arms wrapped tight around myself, fingernails digging into my skin.

“Jess, wait-” Grayson reaches for my arm, his fingers grazing my skin.

I jerk away, knocking over a lamp on the nightstand. It crashes to the floor, the sound matching the shattering feeling in my chest. “You asshole.” My voice cracks. “I fucking hate you.”

He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. “I was going to tell you.”

“When? After you’d already made your decision?” I spin around, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Or maybe after you humiliatè me again because that’s what you do right? Fuck. I almost forgot how Grayson Westwood loves to bully me.”

“That’s not fair.” His jaw tightens as he steps toward me. “You know I never meant those things–”

“Do you?” I back up until I hit the wall, the framed photos rattling behind me. “I’m so stupid sleeping with you.”

his hand away.

his chest hard.

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Chapter 52

He grabs my

him, memories flooding back–years of pretending his words didn’t cut, years of crying in bathroom stalls. “Let

hear me out.” His voice drops

doesn’t release me. “Your dad says jump, and you ask how high, right? You’re a fucking dog Grayson. I almost forgot how loud you fucking bark just

backing me

he said but what the fuck?

don’t know how much leash you have

I whisper, hating how my

against my face. “You think I want this? You think I

away, blinking back hot tears. “Then what?

forcing me to look at him. His fingers dig into my skin, not enough to hurt but enough

what’s going on here,” he growls, his

his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “Because

Jess!” Grayson shouted, making me still. ” Fuck. Can you listen for just a damn second and

I slap him. Hard.

the side. My palm stings, but I don’t care. I’m

get to play the victim here,” I

eyes darken dangerously as his hand touches the reddening mark on his cheek. Something

a mistake,” he

arm snakes around my waist, lifting me off my feet. I kick and thrash as he carries

arms. “I hate you!

mattress, and before I can scramble away, he’s pinning me down. I

I can’t tell through

he growls, securing my hands

against the restraints, my chest heaving. “Untie me right now or I swear

what?” His face hovers above mine jaw clenched tight. “What will you do, Jessica? Because right now, you’re not doing

until they burn. Tears of frustration sting my eyes, but I

of him.

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Chapter 52

trusted you, I whisper, my voice breaking despite my best

me to the mattress. His eyes travel down my body slowly, possessively. The aggs in met shifts to something else–hunger. He

do you?” His voice is rough as he leans closer, his breath hot against my neck. “Everything I did

buck underneath him, trying to throw him

to look at him. “I never lied about

unlacing them with deliberate slowness. I kick at him,