Page 7 of Make You Love Me

“Greyson” her one-word moan has me moving to crash my lips down on hers just as a very distinct sound comes from Lottie’s phone several times in a row and she jumps back. “That’s Ashley, I need to check it.”

Hating that it ruined the moment, but watching her intently check her messages from her friend, I see the immense loyalty she gives to those she loves, and I respect the hell out of that.

With a worried look on her face, she says, “I need to go. Ashley needs me. Thanks for a great night. Sorry I’ll miss out on the pizza.”

Oh hell, what the fuck did Trent do?

“This isn’t over. When can I see you again?”

A little smile plays on her lips. “I can’t believe you’re real,” she practically whispers before she turns to run out.

“Text me!” I desperately say.

Desperation is an emotion I've never felt when it comes to a girl, but damn if I don’t feel that watching her hurry out of my front door.

Chapter Two

“Youshouldhavewornthe peach skirt set I laid out,” Ethel mutters from the seat beside me.

“It's a wool suit, and it's summer… no way in hell was I putting that thing on. I would die of heat exhaustion.” Not to mention the fact that the thing was so fricken ugly it looked like something a senator’s wife would wear, not a soon-to-be eighteen-year-old.

“Oh please! You’re being dramatic, Charlotte. You would have looked better in it, instead of looking like…” She waves her hand in my direction with a displeased look on her face. Don’t get me wrong, she always has a displeased look on her face, but this one is a bit extra like she just smelled something horrid.

I roll my eyes at her dramatics. I chose to wear a white maxi dress with a macrame detailing on the top. It's super flowy and comfortable. Plus, my tatas look great in it, and I honestly don’t care what Ethel has to say about it.

“How are things with the Waterbury boy, Jonathan, right?” Ethel asks as our car comes to a stop.

“Great, he’s coming to visit soon.” The lie slides right off my tongue. I will not give her the satisfaction of knowing our relationship is probably over.

I take a quick glance at my phone, checking to see if Jonathan has responded to my latest text. We haven’t spoken since the other night. I thought he’d be turned on by my costume. Unfortunately, it seems like it had the complete opposite effect on him.Oh well, I knew it wasn’t going to last.

He’s just not the one. Not the one that makes my heart pulse when he’s near or gives me butterflies in my stomach when I see his name. Not the one that can make my body melt from his touch…like Greyson’s touch did. I get shivers just thinking about him.

I’ve enjoyed Greyson and our quick texts over the last few days. They’re not extensive by any means, but that doesn’t stop the giddiness I feel when his name pops up on my phone.

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” Ethel barks as we get out of the car.Oops.

“I’m sorry what?” I smile genuinely, trying to avoid the lecture on how listening is a great quality men look for in a wife. Blah, blah, blah.

“Charlotte, you can at least pretend to be paying attention. I said take a sweater to cover up your chest. Your dress is inappropriate and shows way too much skin for my liking.”

“Unfortunately, Ethel, I do not have a sweater with me because it is ninety-two degrees outside.”

She scoffs and adjusts her Chanel linen jacket. “Come on then, we’re late for our reservation.”

I trail behind, silently cursing her out in my head. Ugh, why must she be the most infuriating person I’ve ever met?

We walk for several minutes along the boardwalk, somewhere I never thought my grandma would visit in her lifetime. We finally stop in front of a spot a lot of locals flock to, The Shack. It’s a fun tiki bar-themed place with amazing food and crazy drinks. Again, so outside of my grandmother's normal stomping grounds, I think she may have fallen ill.

She spins to assess me one more time before we enter. “Will you stop dragging your feet, and stand up straight, you’re slouching.” Nope. She’s feeling just fine.

Following her inside, I’m still in utter shock that this is where she made reservations for lunch. Usually, lunch entails boring-ass meals at her country club surrounded by helmet hair-styled old women. Each wearing matching Chanel suits and so much expensive perfume you can almost taste it in the air. Almost like it’s a sport, these women are interested in nothing more than meddling in their family's lives and being catty bitches towards one another.

The hostess greets us both and then shows us to our table. Handing over our menus, she informs us our server will be with us shortly. My head is buried in my book-sized menu when I hear a throat clear. I look up and eye a very sexy guy in a tiki shirt. A very sexy guy indeed, except I personally think this one looks better dressed as Batman. “Greyson?” I ask in utter shock to see him here.

By his stunned expression, I can tell he’s surprised I’m here as well. Greyson recovers quickly and beams at me. “Lottie, it’s great to see you again.”

“So crazy! I didn’t know you worked here.” I hear Ethel make a noise, bringing my attention back to her. “Oh, I’m sorry G, this is my gran—Ethel. This is Ethel Richmo—”

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