Page 9 of Never Have I Ever
I want to know what that means. He’s so different from any guys I’ve been attracted to. Dark hair, dark eyes, tattoos. It’s confusing. I’ve always been into preppy guys, blond hair, blue eyes, the kind you settle down with and marry, and Grayson definitely isn’t that.
I don’t know what it is about him that makes me want to know him. It should terrify me that he’s a drug dealer, and those tattoos should make me shiver at the mere sight of them. His dark eyes should make me run the other way, especially how intense they are, the way they burned into my memory.
But it doesn’t. If anything, it makes me more intrigued. Who is Grayson Carter, and what would it be like to live like him? A life without rules, responsibilities, no expectations to be perfect. Just live and have fun.
He’d be exactly the type of guy my mother would hate, she would despise everything he stands for, and maybe that’s why he entices me so much. Maybe that’s why I feel drawn to him, and maybe that’s why I’m currently on the way to his house, about to ask him to take my virginity.
Which brings me back to the conclusion that I’ve gone insane. I mean, I don’t know him, not really. I know his name and his reputation. That isn’t enough to know someone. I haven’t even talked to him, except for a split second at the party.
The memory makes my palms burn. The way his lips parted, the way his dark eyes dominated his face as he looked down at me, almost shocked to see me. It etched in my mind, making me aware of him for the rest of the night.
Other than that, I don’t know him, but I’m desperate. Desperate for fun and excitement in my life. Desperate to finally experience the life I’ve always wanted.
I’ve always felt like an outsider. With the girls from the country club that my mother forced me to interact with, I felt like I didn’t belong. Even with my family, I felt like I was the odd one out. The one that was never good enough compared to my brother.
I have never once felt like I belonged, and maybe I still don’t. Maybe I don’t belong here, in college. Maybe my mother was right all along, and I was destined to follow in her footsteps, to be a housewife and nothing more.
But that’s not what I want, and if my life is ultimately destined for a lifetime of despair and brunches at the country club, then I deserve this. Four years of doing whatever the hell I want and living my life how I’ve always wanted to.
The closer I get to his front door, the more I start thinking this is a horrible idea. What if he says no? I’ve never asked a guy out before. The one time I had a crush in high school, I was so nervous around him, I didn’t know how to talk to him.
And at the party, I almost choked when Ben came up to me, wanting to talk to me. I’m not like Leila. She’s confident, easy-going, fun. I remember seeing her talk to a guy at the party, laughing, touching his arm, smiling up at him like it was the most natural thing ever.
I wish I could do that. The whole flirting thing, it always scared me. Which is why I need Grayson’s help. If I can’t even talk to a guy, how will I ever date one?
But what if he rejects me? What if Grayson laughs in my face and turns me down? He doesn’t have a reason to say yes. There’s nothing in it for him. This is all beneficial to me.
I approach the door and take a deep breath, staring up at the large black door staring back at me. This is it.
I lift my hand and press the doorbell. I step back, waiting for someone to open the door, but there’s no answer, so I press it again and wait.
“I’m coming, hold up,” I hear from the other side of the door.
I push my shoulders back and wait for him to open the door. This is it. This is what I came here for. This is what I wanted, and I’m finally going to get it.
But when the door finally swings open, he’s not standing on the other side.
“Yes? Can I help you?” The guy asks. I twist my neck up to look at him. Jesus, he’s tall.
His hair is tucked underneath a baseball cap, and my eyes drift down his body. This guy is huge, in height but also in muscle. This definitely isn’t Grayson.
I look up, and I’m met with a smile. I smile back. “Um… is this where Grayson Carter lives?” I ask.
He scratches the back of his neck and looks behind his shoulder for a second before he turns back to look at me. “Yeah?” He says, his brows scrunching a little. “Who are you?” He asks.
“I’m Rosalie Whitton. I need to talk to Grayson Carter. Can I come in?”
“Yeah. Sure,” he says before he steps back, allowing me to enter.
I step inside the house. It’s much nicer than I expected. There’s a huge kitchen to the right, mostly black, with a chandelier hanging above the dining table and a staircase in front of me, with a black railing along the side. The floorboards are dark wood and shine underneath my heels. This house looks luxurious. How much do drug dealers make?
I twist my head to the left, poking my head through the door, seeing a huge TV. I’m guessing it’s a living room. My eyes widen when I see four heads turn and all eyes on me.
These guys are just as big as the guy who opened the door. What milk do they drink?
Behind me, the door closes, and I jump at the sound, turning around and staring wide-eyed at the guy who opened the door for me, now leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m Grayson’s roommate,” he says. “Aiden Pierce.”
