Page 48 of Lilies in Autumn

“Okay, but how many college guys do you know that just whip up an omelet? I can tell you, none.” I pause, considering his roommates. “Okay, I lied. Lincoln would probably do this shit too, but brag about it the whole time and then tell his date that she’s lucky to taste his ‘divine culinary abilities.’” The last part is a direct quote from the arrogant ass. He’s a talented chef in the making, but my God, is he full of himself?

Grey advances toward me, backing me into the pristine island. His arms shoot out, caging me against the cool marble. “First off, vixen, don’t talk about other men, it makes me fucking crazy.” He leans down, bending his knees to compensate for the twelve-inch difference between our frames. He continues, “And, second, fuck right this is a date.”

I stare at him confused until I play back my words, mentally smacking myself in the face over my word choice. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Nah, vixen. You said it, no takebacks.”

I resist the urge to stick my tongue out, but just barely. “Whatever, now, tell me where you learned to make this, because honestly? I expected a delivery order from a pizzeria.”

Grey stares at me for a beat, his face relaxing into a small smile, almost like he’s bringing a distant memory to the forefront of his mind. “My dad traveled a lot during the season; baseball isn’t exactly a child-friendly profession. When I was young, I would go with him to each game, sit in the dugout while the team played, and operate as an unofficial mascot.” He shakes his head, his smile growing wider, and my breath leaves my body. I’ve never seen this kind of smile on Greyson’s face. It’s almost reverent, like he’s lost in a memory that brings him so much happiness that he can’t hold it in.

If I thought my ovaries were fucked before, they’re destroyed now.

“When I got older, I couldn’t travel with the team because of school. I told you that my mom left when I was a kid, so my grandparents, uncle, and aunt stepped in while my dad traveled. I love my grandparents, but I always wanted to go to my uncle and aunt’s house, partly because my cousins were close in age and two of my best friends, but more because my aunt is an amazing cook. Her rule in their household is that everyone needs to know how to cook, and since I was there so often during the season, I was tangled up in that.”

I lean forward, enthralled by this glimpse into his personal life. “My aunt taught me and my cousins, Mateo and Leonel, or Mat and Leo, and we ended up being decent. She’s from Madrid, so she taught us mostly Spanish cuisine, but I can make a few other things.” He looks at me and smirks. “I’m sure you’d run circles around me in the kitchen.”

I scoff, trying to hide how turned on I am that he knows how to use a spatula. I picture him in an apron, holding a frying pan in front of the stove, with nothing on beneath it. I feel my cheeks turn red, the heat traveling from my chest up to my face.

“Well, I’m impressed. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Yeah, convince you to be seen with me in public.” And we’re back to that now.

“Grey, you know why we can’t.”

“Vixen, you cannot let this asshole dictate your life. I want to protect you, I need to protect you, so let me do it. Are you ashamed to be with me?” he asks with a serious expression, and I can’t help but laugh. He stares at me, jaw ticking like he’s dead serious.

“Are you fucking with me?” I give him an incredulous look once my laughter subsides. “Grey, who could be embarrassed by you? You’re perfect.” I shake my head, gathering my thoughts before I launch into my explanation, for what feels like the eighty-sixth time. “This person has a picture of me, Grey. I told you; I can’t have my parents see that. I can’t have everyone see me like that.” I cast my eyes downward, refusing to make eye contact.

“Ava, you act like we did something wrong. Baby, look at me.” He grabs my chin, tugging my face upwards until my gaze meets his. “So, your parents see it, what happens? Will they disown you? Will they love you any less? Will they shame you?” I shake my head at each of his questions, knowing that my parents would be more worried about me than anything else. My shame is internal; the fact that I allowed myself to be so vulnerable in such a public setting—and enjoyed it—will live with me forever.

“No,” I sigh, giving him the response I know he expects.

“Then if the dick decides to release that photo where I’m worshiping your body, we go after them and go to the fucking police. It’s a crime to take a picture like that without consent in New Jersey, and I will rip this motherfucker a new asshole if he comes after you, legally and physically. I know you’re worried about it, and trust me, vixen, I don’t want the douches on this campus to see that picture, but what are we supposed to do? Hide our relationship forever. Hell fucking no.”

I gnaw on my bottom lip, weighing his words. My heart stutters when he refers to our “relationship.” During all of our conversations, we’ve never defined what we are, and I did not expect that Grey would remain invested in only me. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what we’re doing, but I don’t want it to stop. I may not want that picture to circulate, just the thought of it makes me want to vomit everything in my body. But, at the same time, I want to explore Grey like a normal college student. How is it fair that they’ve taken this away from me?

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize Grey’s hand is on my face until his thumb pulls down on my lip, releasing it from my ministrations.

“Every time you bite this goddamn lip, I want to spank your ass, I swear to fucking God.”

“W-what?”

He steps closer, crowding around me and taking all the oxygen in the room with him. “These lips are fucking mine.” Somehow, he shifts closer, his mouth hovering just above mine. “Ava, vixen. You have three fucking seconds.”

I look at him, quietly begging him to explain in the charged silence that follows his decree.

“You have three seconds before I taste your lips. So, figure out what you want, vixen, because I already know.”

My throat is suddenly thick with want and a foreign emotion that I can’t quite place. I’d say that I’m turned on—and I am, there is absolutely no denying that—but it’s more than that. I feel like there’s a riot in my stomach, chills race down my spine and I feel the goosebumps covering my arms and legs. I either have swine flu or my body is about to ignite.

I look from his eyes to his lips. There’s no question of what I want; I’ve been fantasizing about Greyson Jansen since I met him.

“Greyson,” I murmur. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck,” Grey growls, grabbing the back of my head and pulling me forward until he captures my lips with his. I was prepared for an onslaught, but his lips are gentle against mine, almost worshiping. He pulls back and places playful kisses just above my cupid’s bow and on the cleft in my chin. Returning to my lips, he coaxes my mouth open, nipping my bottom lip when I finally open to him. God, it’s been too long since I felt his mouth on mine.

“Goddamn, vixen. It’s been too fucking long since I tasted you,” he growls. Grey catches my bottom lip, biting harshly before soothing the spot. I gasp at the contact, the dichotomy between pleasure and pain surprising me.

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