IGNITE

twenty-two.

੭୧ 𝐩𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫 ੭୧

There were very few places I would have given the title of 'hellish', but inside my cold, dark, empty house with a fuming Greyson behind me was one of them.

I didn't bother looking back at him, instead I moved swiftly toward the kitchen. If there was one thing I had learned after living with Greyson for over two months, it was that if he was in a bad mood, the best course of action was to keep my mouth shut, stay out of his way, and not ask questions.

Usually, however, when he was in a mood, he didn't stand across the room silently staring at me. I tried to avoid his burning glare as I rummaged through the fridge, eventually pulling out one of Ryan's too–sweet orange sodas.

But, as I turned around, I found his eyes still trained on me, his jaw clenched and large, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. His hair was messy—which was unusual, unless it was one of our five a.m. conversations, where his hair was always mussed and tangled as if he had rolled out of bed looking for me.

I sighed, leaning back against the counter and twisting the cap off of the soda, watching as the bubbles fizzed up the neck of the bottle, threatening to spill over. I brought the bottle to my lips, sucking the orangey–fizz to stop it from bubbling over the top before raising my gaze back to Grey—who's hazel eyes seemed to have turned several shades darker, his pupils dilated as he stared at my mouth.

"Is there a reason why I am in trouble?" I asked, licking my lips.

He shook his head, his jaw ticking.

I sighed. He was impossible. "Grey, seriously, are you going to give me the silent treatment all night?" I set the soda on the counter and took a tentative step towards him. "You won your race. Why aren't you happier?"

"Because, it didn't fucking matter," his voice was gruff as he ran a hand through his hair.

I frowned. "What are you talking about? Of course it mattered."

"It didn't matter because you weren't watching."

My breath caught in my throat, and I opened my mouth, but I didn't know what to say. "You asked to come to my event—begged, even. And then, when I win and come to find you, you're surrounded by a bunch of guys looking at you like they're ready to bend you over that fucking couch," he paused, letting out a breathy laugh. "But, when I go to help you—to tell those shitheads exactly what would happen to them if they even looked at you wrong, you're flirting with them."

"What are you talking about? I wasn't flirting with them."

He let out a frustrated breath, throwing his hands in the air. "Jesus, Piper. I can't do this right now."

"Do what?" I demanded.

"This!" he yelled, and my chest tightened. "Pretend I don't give a shit, pretend that every time you're near me, I'm not only thinking about you. Pretend that when you look at me with those damn wide eyes and open that smartass mouth, I don't want to kiss you."

A small smile tugged at my lips as I cocked my head to the side. "Is that why we left? You were jealous?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't pull that shit, Piper."

"I'm not pulling anything," I said, crossing the room and stopping before him. "Tell me." My eyes met his, and I raised a challenging brow.

Greyson's eyes trailed along my face, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he studied me. "I wasn't jealous," he muttered, and I rolled my eyes, stepping back from him.