"Money, Money, Money" [2] G. Hawthorne

10 - screw ups

TW: smut kinda... idk honestly, nothing too descriptive. I'll leave a thingy so you can skip if u want.

Grayson's pov

It felt like eons since I had spoken to her. Since I'd seen her smile. Heard her laugh. Kissed her. In reality it had just been about 2 weeks but that was 2 weeks too long to be away from her.

Kayla, my love. I hated doing what I did, at the worst timing too.

But, there we were, from enemies, to friends, to lovers, to whatever the hell it was. This was something out of an Austen novel.

I stood by her door and her, across the room.

"Well, talk." She said.

"First off, there is a reason I did what I did."

I took a step towards her.

"Oh, really?" She said, sarcasm dripping from her voice like venom.

She took a step towards me.

"I'm so sorry Kayla, I really am."

I walked another step.

She sighed.

"I don't know if I can forgive you."

She backed away slightly.

"May I ask why?"

"You left me," she whispered "you left me and I need you."

She looked down.

"But you weren't there." She walked another step ahead.

"I wish we could be together again." I said.

"So why can't we?" She asked. "Please Gray."

I couldn't tell her. Telling her would put her at risk and that was the last thing I needed. No, she needed to be kept away from my family troubles.

Only three people were able to manipulate me in my entire life. And I'd do anything for her.

Our faces were so close now, mere centimetres away.

"Please" she repeated.

Our noses touched and I closed my eyes as our proximity suddenly became clear to her.

Slowly and unsure I moved my lips to hers.

We kissed after what seemed like decades and pulled apart quickly.

"Shit I'm sorry." I said.

She cut me off by pulling me by my shirt and kissing me.

Smutish thing starts here

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Kayla's pov

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

What I was thinking I don't know.

But in that moment all I wanted was to be with him again. 

I wanted to kiss him and slap him across the face at the same time.

God I hated him, I hated him so much that when I looked at him I couldn't breathe.

We fell onto the bed and he kept kissing along my jawline.

He worked his way down past my neck.

"Kayla, we don't have to-"

"I want to. Do you?"

"Yes."

He took of his dress shirt.