Page 40 of Roaring Flames

That’s the truth.

Grayson frowns. “But you want it to be more, don’t you?”

I don’t know how to respond. I barely know Ansel, yet I feel a strong connection to him. I love Grayson with my whole heart, yet…

Fuck, I feel like a greedy bitch.

What is wrong with me?

Grayson shuts down completely at my silence. His eyes shutter, obscuring his emotions from view.

“Gray—”

“We can talk about this later.” His voice is hoarse with some indecipherable emotion.

“But Grayson?—”

He stamps his mouth over mine in a possessive, claiming kiss. “I’m not mad, baby. But I think this is something we need to talk about—and not just a few minutes before you need to leave. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Another kiss, one that makes my toes curl.

I place my hand on his cheek, relishing the feel of his prickly five-o’clock shadow beneath my palm, and whisper, “You mean the world to me.”

Yeah, I’m a coward. I can admit that. But I’m terrified of saying the dreaded L word and getting my heart shattered. Grayson already hurt me once. If he knew the type of power he held over me…

This time, I’m the one who initiates the kiss, though I don’t deepen it. Time stands still as our lips touch and sparks run through me.

“Go.” Grayson reluctantly pushes me away, his eyes molten. “I’ll see you later. You coming back here?”

“I have to work this afternoon, but I’ll be back after.”

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re so pissed at your foster family? Did they…? Are you…?” Anger twists Grayson’s features at some unknown conclusion he comes to.

“No!” I shake my head adamantly. “Nothing like that. I promise. This is another thing that we’ll need to have a conversation about. It’s alongstory.”

Grayson nods in understanding, but his jaw doesn’t lose its rigid tension.

I push up on my tiptoes to peck him one more time on the lips. Now that I’ve started kissing him, I don’t want to stop. I could spend the rest of my life with my lips fastened to Grayson Grey’s.

But unfortunately, I have things I need to do—things that don’t involve continually kissing my childhood best friend.

“Text you later,” I promise him as I pull away and reach down to sling my backpack over my shoulders.

“You better.”

With one more glance back—his eyes reflecting the yearning that’s no doubt in my own—I hurry out the door. A part of me wishes I could stay with Grayson, or at least kiss him one last time. I could use the courage his presence gives me.

I have the distinct impression I’ll need it to get through the day.

Fifteen

ASHTON

“Why thefuckdid he get released?” My father slams his fist down on his desk, causing it to shake.

I can’t help but focus on the varnished picture frame directly in front of him, facing away from me. Even without looking at it, I know it’s of my mother—those smiling green eyes and locks of light-brown hair that frame an angelic face.

A part of me hates that I look nothing like her.

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