Page 26 of Entangled

WILLOW

FEBRUARY 12TH, 2016

“Mom?”I call out, wincing as I descend the carpeted stairs. My head hurts after the copious amount of alcohol I consumed last night.

Nothing but silence greets me. It snowed in the night, and the house is cold. An inch of snow covers the window. Stepping into the kitchen, I gaze at the flurries outside before rubbing my arms to ward off the chill. There’s a note on the kitchen island.

There’s a pasta dish in the fridge.

Mom.

I leave it where it is and walk back out. The floorboards creak beneath my feet as I make my way down the hallway to the living room. I should get ready for school, but I don’t. Instead, I snuggle up beneath a blanket on the couch and stare at the snowflakes through the patio doors. The lawn is white, peppered with animal footprints that lead into the forest where our yard ends. The trees, with their spindly branches, are covered in a dusting of snow. I love this time of the year, even if I don’t enjoy the cold. There’s a peacefulness about winter that can’t be found in summer—a silence. Not the oppressive kind that lives in my house. This is gentle, a whisper on the breeze, urging me closer.

I’m just about to drift off to sleep when there’s a knock on the door. I startle awake, and when it comes again, I throw off my quilt. With my arms wrapped around myself, I enter the hallway, wishing I had put on my bathrobe. It’s too cold for sleep shorts and a T-shirt.

I'm met with a cold breeze as I unlock the door and inch it open.

Grayson smiles at me. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like I’ve had too much to drink,” I reply honestly. My mouth tasted like a brewery when I woke up. I brushed my teeth three times, and it still wasn’t enough.

Grayson, dressed in jeans and a black, wooly jumper beneath his jacket, watches me like he’s waiting for something before his lips spread in a disarming smile. “Are you going to let me in?”

The door creaks as I open it all the way. Flurries of snow drift over the threshold on a gentle breeze, melting on the tips of my toes. I shiver and step aside for Grayson, who shrugs out of his jacket. My cheeks heat at the memory of what we did the previous night. I’d had a lot to drink, but not too much to recall what happened. My pussy is sore from his ministrations.

Deliciously sore.

“It’s cold in here. Want me to start a fire?” He walks ahead, entering the living room at the end of the hallway. When I catch up, he’s crouched before the mantelpiece, stacking wood in the fireplace.

With his back to me, he says, “I didn’t see any footprints in the snow, so I figured you were skipping school today.”

I take a seat on the couch and wrap the blanket around myself. “I didn’t have it in me to face everyone today.”

His shoulders move as he reaches for the matchsticks. When the fire is lit, he looks at me behind him. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” I reply honestly, shaking my head. “If anything, I want to forget. I want to pretend everything is normal.”

Rising to his feet, he walks up to me and tips my chin with his finger. His thumb brushes over my mouth as he searches my eyes. I can’t read him. “What do you remember of last night?”

My tingling lips part and my tongue darts out to taste him, stealing his attention. “Grayson,” I whisper, sucking his thumb into my mouth and reaching out to squeeze the outline of his hard cock. His hips jerk forward, and he grips my chin hard, forcing my head back until his dark eyes pin me to the spot. “Take me out.”

Just as I reach for his belt, the front door opens.

“Mom?”

Grayson stiffens and steps back, quickly adjusting his dick in his pants.

I look over my shoulder when my brother, Liam, steps into the room with a backpack on his shoulder. He looks from me to Grayson. “Hi?” There’s a question in his tone before he trains his eyes on me. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

My brother’s dirty-blonde hair is shorter than the last time I saw him, and the tips glisten with melting snowflakes. Sliding his bag off his shoulder, he sets it down on the floor, then straightens up.

“I should get going,” Grayson says. “The fire is set up for you, Willow. If you need anything else, just knock.”

He walks out without another backward glance, and I curse my brother for his stupid timing.

“Is that the next-door neighbor?”

Liam is seven years older than me. As a result, he doesn’t know Chloe’s family like I do.

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