When Becka dropped me off, I quickly changed before heading right back out the door and driving to the McAllisters.
I checked my phone when I parked in the McAllister's driveway. It was past eleven at night, the lights were off in the house except for one room. It was beyond creepy I was showing up at their house in the middle of the week so late—but I was already here. So I switched off the engine, right as I heard my phone buzz.
Grey: What're you doing here
Me: I'm here to see you, idiot
Grey: charming
Me: That's my line
Greyson didn't respond, and I bit my lip, wondering if he was going to ignore me and I'd just drive back home. But a few seconds later, I saw their front porch light switch on, and then the door opened. Greyson stood there, looking out at my car. I took a deep breath and then stumbled out of my vehicle, hugging my bare arms and hearing the patter of my Nikes as I ran across the driveway, up the brick path, and straight to Greyson.
I stopped right in front of him, lifting my chin to meet his eyes. He was still in his black t-shirt, but now wore light grey Underarmour joggers. His green eyes were lit up from the porch light, and they searched my face, wondering why I was here. It was quiet for a moment. Bugs took a flurried flight toward the new light above us, crickets chirped from the trees, and the cars droning along the highway far away we're muffled.
"Can we talk?" I asked, my voice loud in the calmness. I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, my eyes flitting around.
Greyson hesitated, then inhaled deeply before taking another step outside, closing the door behind him shut.
"Not inside?"
"Considering whenever you and I have a talk it typically ends with one or both of us yelling, I figured I'd spare my family and try not to wake them up."
I pursed my lips, a little glare making its way into my eyes at Greyson's raised eyebrows and tone. "Fair point."
"What did you want to talk about?" He didn't sound harsh, but definitely to the point—his arms were crossed, and his expression reserved. The crickets seemed to die down, as if waiting for me to speak.
My mind suddenly started racing a hundred different directions. Unintentionally, the first thought I grabbed onto and voiced was not how I wanted to start this conversation.
"Why were you running behind my back with—with that Meagan girl? I don't care that we didn't 'define' what this is, that's still stupid and hurt me and I deserve an explanation."
Greyson's head dropped back exasperatedly, and I felt my cheeks tint, embarrassed that was the first thing I grabbed onto. I did want an answer, though.
"You told me you had to come back to help your uncle, but you didn't have to lie to me, you could have just told me you had another date."
Greyson cocked his head, raising his eyebrow.
I blushed even deeper, and failed to stop the rush of words coming out of my mouth in a hushed whisper. "You can't get jealous about me and that Jimmy guy, even though, yes, he was a jerk—but that track bimbo isn't a glowing sweetheart of America herself."
"Cory, do you really think I've been doing anything with Meagan?" Greyson's voice was low and almost irritated.
I scowled, crossing my arms. The small lamp above us, tucked into the corner of the porch, cast a golden glow that faded into the darkness of the yard.
"I don't know."
"Did it ever occur to you that she's lying? That she's just some crazy and jealous girl who throws herself at whatever racer she can find, hoping to be able to show off her catch?"
Truly, I knew he wasn't doing anything with her. But my mind still liked to imagine up different scenarios.
"Even so, Lawson, out of anyone you could pick to 'get back at me', Par was a poor choice."
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Well, excuse me for not knowing that every single racer from Omayle is just as loutish as the last."
Greyson threw his hands up. "What the hell does that word even mean, Lawson?"
Huffing, I threw my own arms out. "Uncouth, or—"
"Don't know what that means either."
Glowering at him, I spat out. "It means rude. And aggressive."
"And why couldn't you have just used one of those words?"
"They're normal words!"
"Well, I'm sorry my hobby isn't eating dictionaries in my free time."
I let out a groan of frustration, my face heating up as I glared at him. I hated how easily he could rile me up. "This is besides the point."
Greyson shifted his stance, crossing his arms and making the muscles strain against the black t-shirt. But it wasn't like I noticed or cared.
"Did you just come here talk about Meagan and Par?" Greyson was challenging me.
I bit back a shout of aggravation I wanted to let out, that would surely wake up everyone within a mile. Instead I hissed through the thin line of my mouth, "You have got to be the single most annoying person on this earth, Greyson Ryvers."
"I think you hold that title, Lawson," he retorted, glaring at me.
"I literally just came here to tell you," I whisper-yelled at him, my cheeks red with frustration, "that I practically shouted to my brother and the whole world that I wanted to be with you, but now I'm not so sure, Greyson!"
He raised an eyebrow, saying with mocking surprise, "Oh, you made up your mind?"
I stomped my foot on the porch. It made a deep thud, and Greyson had the nerve to comment, "Nice little tantrum, didn't know I was talking with a toddler."
"Greyson!" My face felt like an oven, and I clamped my mouth shut as I realized I'd yelled a lot louder than I meant to and his green eyes gave me a stern reprimanding look at the outburst. My heart thumped in my chest. "I just pushed my brother over the edge. I just told him I basically made my choice to be with you rather than make amends with him. I just pushed him away. And you—" my voice cracked, and the shaky uneven breathing wasn't helping me. I was so frustrated, so hurt by my brother and so annoyed with myself if I pushed him away just to have Greyson treat me like this. "And you're standing there and acting like you don't even care."
Greyson grew blurry in my vision. I blinked hard, then again, and he cleared. The silence wrapped around us again, the crickets warily resuming their cacophony and my ragged breathing harshly invading the air.
He got blurry again, but I could see his sharp emerald gaze, latched onto me, unreadable right now. I inhaled shakily, letting my head fall to avoid his eyes. A curly strand of hair fell in front of my face, lit up like yellow tinsel in the light. I hugged myself, the leggings and t-shirt I'd thrown on not keeping me warm in the cool summer night.
"If you don't want this anymore, then let's stop messing around and just tell me because I can't take an unclear answer. And I know that's hypocritical of me when I couldn't give you an answer but—but I just pushed Clay away. I told him. And damn it, Greyson, I want to be with you! But if I lose Clay and then also you—" Suddenly, the millions of racing thoughts just coalesced in my mind and burst out of me in the form of a tear that spilled onto my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, mentally berating myself. But unfortunately, looking down to hide it just pushed another to fall. And then another. "Just please tell me now and I'll leave."
We were both quiet. I was willing the tears to stop forming. I hated I was letting my emotions overtake me, but the frustration and mental exhaustion from this summer was just piling up.
I felt so uncomfortable standing here, feeling like I was being scrutinized by Greyson for him to figure out if he wanted to be with me, that I just turned without a word. Wiping my face harshly, my feet moved quickly back off the porch.
Before I could reach the step, a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me. Then it pulled, hard enough that I went stumbling back, turning around to keep my balance, and crashed right into Greyson.
He'd pulled me close, desperate hands grabbing at my back and my neck, crashing his lips onto mine.
He was hungry, and I was too. There were still unspoken words to decipher, still confusion and things we needed to sort, but this is a language we spoke clearly enough.
His fingers wiped away any remaining tears on my cheek, holding my face tightly as his lips moved against mine, my body curving, flush against him but he still tried to pull me closer.
His mouth was soft, his hands warm on me. He smelled like cedar wood and tasted like whatever alcohol was in those cups at the party.
Greyson paused for a breath, our hearts pounding in the still night, and he whispered raggedly as he leaned against my forehead, "You're unbelievably stubborn and you can make me madder than your brother can in half the time."
"Oh, shut it." I cut off conversation by kissing him again, harder than the last time.
His hands roamed my body, pulling me even closer. He turned slowly, then walked backward and I followed, tripping over his feet and losing my balance. We stumbled our way along the wall until we reached the end of the porch where a loveseat and two armchairs filled the space. Greyson half-fell into the loveseat, and the wicker creaked as he pulled me on top of him, my knees on either side of his hips.
I let my hands wrap around his neck, my fingers lacing themselves with his hair and tilting his head up to mine.
I hated how easily he could rile me up. But Lord knows this boy could light up every single molecule of my body on fire in one second, one kiss, one touch.
"So," I gasped, pulling away for one moment, my heart pounding throughout my body, "does this mean yes? You do want to be with me?"
"Oh, shut it," he murmured mockingly, pulling my face back down to him. We got lost in each other, breathless and desperate.
His hands continued to roam my back, slipping underneath the t-shirt, his fingers hot against my skin. They wandered until finding my waist, my shirt inching up so that I shivered as the cool night breeze whispered against my lower back. His thumbs brushed against my ribcage, pulling the shivers around and settling them into my stomach like a pack of butterflies. My hands fell onto his shoulders, and he nudged my face up, his lips finding my neck, biting the soft skin before planting a kiss on it right after. His fingers traced fire up my stomach, and my eyes gently closed.
I think I had a legitimate heart attack when something pounded against the window to the right of the loveseat, looking into the living room.
I yelped and shot upright, leaning back and awkwardly trying to stand up before realizing my knees were locked on either side of Greyson, but I'd already lost balance and started falling backwards. Greyson pushed himself forward and grabbed my waist, but I ended up just pulling us both down onto the wooden porch with a loud crash.
Greyson was sprawled out on top of me, but sat up quickly to look at the window.
Champ panted right inside, his paws on the window from when he jumped up at it.
"That dog," Greyson murmured, his breath heavy as relief settled into him. "He always finds a way to butt into our lives."
He looked back down at me, and I swallowed, my face deeply red at the thought of us getting caught like that. A little smirk curved Greyson's face at my expression, and he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my nose. Then he dragged himself up, leaning back into the loveseat. He offered me a tanned warm hand, and pulled me to my feet.
He tugged at my hand but I hesitated.
"Okay, I know you might think it's stupid, but I need an actual yes or no from you, no implied nonsense. Otherwise I'll overthink it and I just don't want to leave any room for misunderstandings."
"Lord, don't I know you'll overthink it."
I scowled at him, pulling my hand out of his. "I'm being serious, Grey."
His green eyes twinkled in the hazy porchlight. Champ whined inside, and Greyson inhaled deeply before standing. He was inches from me, my stomach almost touching his, and my neck craned up while he looked down to meet my eyes, roaming my face before slipping around me and toward the door. He opened it and said something in a hushed tone that I couldn't hear. A second later, Champ trotted happily out, bounding over to lick my hand before settling down on the porch, lazily watching us.
Greyson had dragged the door shut, then came back over to me. His hands found their way to his pockets as he cocked his head.
"Cory Lawson, you're something else. I think you know my answer."
"That fits into the category of 'implied nonsense.'"
He chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he lifted a hand, brushing a curl away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. His chest rose and fell as his eyes studied me. "You make me so angry. Then a minute late you make me feel like the luckiest person alive. You make me want to punch a wall. And then you make me want to push you up against a wall." I blushed at his seductive tone, and gave him a reprimanding look even though no one could hear us, and it made him smile. "You make me want to scream. Then you make me want to buy you flowers. You make me so riled up and then a second later I'd turn the world over to just see you smile. You make me crazy, Cory."
I inhaled deeply, pursing my lips. "This still fits in the nonsense category."
Greyson slipped his arms down around my waist, pulling me to him. "Yes. I want you to be mine. Just mine. I don't want anybody else's hands on you, I don't want to even think about you being with someone else." His hands tightened around my waist, making sure I couldn't disappear. "Yes, I want this, Lawson. Even though I'm pretty sure you'll be the death of me."
I pursed my lips and frowned at him. "Not sure if I should take all of this as a compliment or not."
"You're a handful, Cory. But if you're finally giving me a chance to be yours I'd be a fool to say no."
"Again...is that a compliment?"
Greyson shook his head. His green eyes were still alight with emotion, but his face had softened, and his eyes traced my face like he always did. "But I have a question."
"I asked you a question first."
"I'm asking second, so it's more recent, more applicable." I frowned, my face contorting, and he took this as an opportunity to keep talking. "Do you really mean this?"
"What do you mean?"
Greyson searched my eyes, then breathed deeply. He stepped around me, his hand pulling at my waist so I followed, and we sat on the loveseat, Champ at our feet as we faced each other. The crickets were still chirping their symphony, and bugs buzzed around the porchlight. Champ huffed, looking up at us and his tail thumping on the porch before he settled down again. It was peaceful out here.
"Do you actually mean this?" Greyson repeated. "No more sneaking around or jumping behind things when someone sees you with me? I don't have to wait to be with you each day at the track, after everyone leaves? I don't have to hide this?"
I scoffed, smiling ruefully at him. "Well, as I said, I did declare it to the world after you left the party."
Greyson's hands were clasped, his fingers playing with each other and his eyebrows drawn together.
"What're you thinking?"
He inhaled deeply. "And Clay?"
My lips pursed. I drew my knees up, leaning my cheek against them as I wrapped my arms around my legs.
"I told him I wanted to be with you, Greyson. I do. I don't want to hold back anymore just because of him. Because that's what I was doing—I was holding back. This is what I want, and it's stupid to have someone come between that. I promise. Trust me," I said with a little laugh, "you've won me over. Congratulations."
Greyson's eyebrows drew even farther together, and he looked out at the yard, opposite of me. I frowned. "Greyson?"
It seemed like a couple of minutes passed, Greyson's face stayed turned away from me, his mind running and mine waiting. I let him think, looking back down the porch to the doorway, and then past to the corner of the porch where it wrapped around and disappeared.
Greyson shuffled beside me, and I turned back to see he had shifted to lean back against the arm of the loveseat, his hand coming out to grab my arm and gently pull. He moved so I was between his legs, and he pulled me close until I laid down on his chest.
His fingers drew circles in my back, like they did after we kissed for the first time, all those kisses ago.
"Greyson, what's wrong?" I asked, my cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt.
I heard him open his mouth and draw a breath, then he paused. Then a second later, his chest rumbled slightly as he said, "I'm sorry, Cory. I shouldn't have—I shouldn't have yelled at Clay like that at the party. I was just upset with how he was treating you, but I shouldn't have—"
"No, please don't apologize," I responded softly, tilting my head up to look at him. "I'm sorry. I've been selfish myself. I've been too scared to make a choice and it's been rude to you and the reason this is all getting so messy is because I couldn't make a decision."
"It's not your fault, Cory. Your brother and I aren't necessarily making it easy on you."
I scoffed, a small smile making its way onto my face. "That's for sure. You're both pretty pig-headed."
Greyson's chest rumbled again as he chuckled, and it made the smile on my face soften and reach my eyes. I leaned my chin against his chest, watching his bright green eyes. His hands were still locked around me, drawing butterflies out each time they slid over my back and arms.
"My dad called me." Greyson's eyes were distant, latched onto me but a million miles away.
I frowned, and waited for him to continue.
"Yesterday morning. That's why I was in a bad mood. I'm sorry I was short with you, but I just—he just called out of nowhere, I haven't talked to him since I came here, and he just called to talk about me moving out after this competition. He didn't even ask how any of it was going, didn't ask a single thing. Just wanted to know when I was moving out, because he wants his new girlfriend to move in."
I stayed quiet. Greyson's voice tightened as he spoke, and I kissed his chest softly, almost absentmindedly. His hands around my back tightened at that, and when he spoke, he sounded gentler. "It just made me upset. That's why I was in such a funk yesterday."
"I'm sorry for how I was treating you, then—"
"No, you couldn't have known. And to clear things up on the other side of yesterday, I had absolutely nothing planned with Meagan. She's been throwing herself at me ever since I made the mistake of taking her to that diner trying to crash your date, and she's spreading rumors, but there's absolutely nothing going on there."
"I know," I assured him quietly. "And... I was just being with Jimmy because I wanted to make you jealous. I didn't know how much of a jerk he was."
Greyson's mouth twitched, drawing my eyes to his lips before he said, "Well, one, you succeeded. And two, he's almost worse than Jennings."
"Can't beat Spencer, though."
"Yeah, the Raven Heights bully beats the Omayle bully."
I smiled at him, and his own eyes fell down to my mouth.
His chest rose underneath me, and he said lowly, "So does that mean I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?"
My smile deepened, and I pulled myself farther up his chest to reach his lips, kissing them softly. "About time, Ryvers. I accept the challenge."
I felt his lips smirk underneath my own, and his hand came to tangle itself in my hair, holding me close to kiss me again.
I pulled away, and crossed my arms against his chest, resting my chin on my forearms. My fingers slowly traced the scar on his chest, and his fingers brushed my forehead and then held the back of my head softly.
His green eyes were dark as they watched me. "Everything about you is beautiful, Coraline Lawson." The whispered sentence was almost lost among the crickets and the vast night sky. A bolt of warmth filled my stomach, and spread across my body as he studied my face with an intensity that took my breath away, his thumb brushing over my nose and my eyebrow and cheek and then languishing over my bottom lip, his eyes following.
"If my ten-year-old self could see me now."
This made me giggle, and he smiled as I said, "If you asked me on a picnic date, I'd say yes now. Chocolate or not."
His eyebrows shot up. "Wow, I really did win you over, didn't I?"
I chuckled, and pulled my elbows back to tuck them beneath me as I laid against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me like a blanket. The warmth of his body and his hands chased the chill away, and the sound of his heartbeat seemed to calm every part of me.
I felt so peaceful. I felt happy. Even with everything that just happened, even with Clay and the tension I felt when thinking about him, I knew this is where I wanted to be. Wrapped in Greyson's arms, late at night, listening to the crickets and feeling him kiss the top of my head softly.
This is where I wanted to be.