His Trouble Maker
Chapter 52
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.”
again, but I slap his hand away. His eyes darken, a muscle jumping in
touching me!” I shove his chest hard. He barely moves, which pisses me off
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Chapter 52
to me for one damn minute!” He grabs my wrists, his grip firm but not
flooding back–years of pretending his words didn’t
me out.” His
but 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 dog!” He shouted, backing me against the wall,
to pretend I didn’t hear what he said but what the fuck? Grayson notices the shock written on my
my expression. “You don’t know how much
whisper,
leans closer, his breath warm against my face. “You think I want this? You think I asked for
hot tears. “Then what? You’re
dig into my skin, not enough to hurt but enough to hold me still. I try to jerk away, but he
on here,” he growls, his eyes
against his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath
Grayson shouted, making me still. ” Fuck. Can you listen
I slap him. Hard.
to the side. My
here,” I spit, backing away.
darken dangerously as his hand touches the reddening mark on his cheek. Something
mistake,” he
waist, lifting me off my feet.
I scream, clawing at his arms. “I hate you!
away, he’s pinning me down. I feel
tie – I can’t tell through my
he growls, securing my hands to the headboard. “You
chest heaving. “Untie me right now
face hovers above mine jaw clenched tight. “What will you do, Jessica? Because
Tears of frustration sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not
of him.
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Chapter 52
breaking despite
mattress. His eyes travel down my body slowly, possessively.
it, do you?” His voice is rough as he leans closer, his breath hot against my neck. “Everything I did
underneath him, trying to
him. “I never lied
them with deliberate
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