Never Have I Ever – A College Romance Book (Campus Games 1)

Never Have I Ever (Campus Games 1): Chapter 8



Grayson

Ten minutes later, I’m outside her apartment.

I pull out a cigarette while I text her, letting her know I’m here. When she walks out, I freeze. God damn, I forgot how pretty she is. Her cheeks are pink as she smiles at me, walking closer to my car. I smirk at her, letting my eyes scan down her body. I smile, a small laugh escaping my lips. How does she always look this good?

“What?” she asks, frowning a little. “Should I go change?”

I stop laughing, wiping my mouth with my hand, composing myself. I don’t want to make her feel like I’m laughing at her. I’m definitely not. I’m laughing at myself. I’m an idiot, turning her down. “No,” I say, bringing the cigarette to my lips and taking one last smoke before I throw it out the window. My eyes lift to hers. “You look gorgeous,” I say, because why the fuck not. It’s true.

I’m glad I do. Her eyes light up at the compliment, her lips raising in a cute little smile.

She takes a step closer to me. “Nice car,” she says, trying to avoid meeting my eyes, but I already saw her not so subtly checking me out.

I nod, grinning at her. It is a nice car. “Do you know anything about cars?” I ask, lifting a brow.

She shrugs. “Not really, just looks nice. Suits you,” she says.

I smirk at her answer. “It’s an SRT Demon,” I tell her, knowing it will mean nothing to her, but I’m proud of this car.

She snorts. “How fitting.”

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Get in, angel.”

She makes her way around, getting inside my car. I look to my left and see her sitting in the seat. I like her there. She looks fucking beautiful in a blue dress covered with a denim jacket; her legs are out and smooth. I glance at them again, seeing her pale skin get a little red. It’s pretty cold out, and when I asked her to come with me for a drive, I expected her to wear some sneakers and a sweater or at least some pants, but I’m starting to think this girl doesn’t even own a pair of pants.

She looks gorgeous, though. Her blonde hair flowed in the wind, half pinned up with a blue clip to match her dress. She still looks like an angel without the signature white.

I turn on the radio as I pull onto the road, letting the music fill the car. She taps her foot to my music, making me smile at the sight. Jesus fuck, I’ve become a sappy shit around her. I can’t help it, though. Seeing her in my car with me makes me twitch.

Every time I see her, I get more and more confused. What’s her story? Why does she think she needs to be like every other girl in here when she’s the complete opposite? That’s what I like about her.

I raise the volume, letting the music fill the car, and she turns to face me. My eyes meet hers, and she smiles at me. I grip the steering wheel firmly, wanting a hold on my emotions. That smile is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s intoxicating.

I rip my eyes away from hers and focus on the road.

“Where are we going?” she asks me.

“For a drive,” I reply.

She’s quiet for a minute, but then she finally speaks up. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, I did tell you.”

I glance towards her again, and she’s frowning. A small downward curve to her lips makes my jaw clench. She’s disappointed. Of course, she is; that’s all I ever do. I let people down. She shouldn’t have confided in me or asked me for help. I don’t help. All I do is destroy.

“I thought we were… you know, going somewhere.”

“Like a date?” I ask her, anticipating her answer. I have to let her down gently. If she thought this would end up with us in love and shit, I need to let her know that’s never going to happen.

“No, I mean… no?” She sighs. “I don’t know what this is exactly. Like, what are we doing here?”

She’s just confused. That I can deal with. “We’re friends,” I tell her. “We’re not dating or sleeping together. I’m just helping you.” I hope that didn’t sound too harsh. I don’t want to hurt her. She’s too good for that. I don’t want her to get false expectations, wanting something that’s never going to happen between us.

“Okay,” she says. “So we’re really just going to drive?”

I smile. “You see the handle up there,” I say, pointing to the ceiling handle.

“Yeah?”

“Use it,” I tell her and press my foot down on the accelerator.

“Grayson!” she yells as the car speed up, faster and faster, through the street.

We’re on a highway, and it’s pretty empty around this time of night, so we won’t be crashing into anyone.

“What the hell are you doing?” she gasps. Her eyes are shut, and one of her hands holds on to the handle while the other clutches my arm as if she needs to hold on for safety.

I’ll keep her safe. I promise. I never want to hurt her. I just want to show her a little fun.

“You said you wanted to see how Grayson Carter lives,” I tell her, raising my voice above the music and the wind blowing in through the window. I press my foot harder on the acceleration, feeling the car move faster and faster down the highway.

The euphoric feeling of adrenaline crashes into my veins, making me feel alive. This is what I needed, and I’m sharing it with Rosie. She’s no longer screaming, which makes me smile. Her eyes are still closed, though. Her mouth moves as she mumbles under her breath, probably praying.

I can’t help but laugh. “Open your eyes,” I tell her, but she shakes her head and grips tighter on the handle. I slow down a little, and her grip loosens. “Open your eyes, angel,” I say.

She does this time. Her eyes snap open as she focuses on the road in front of her, the blurry view from the side rushing past as the car moves. I press my foot down on the accelerator, making it a little faster, and she gasps.

“You’re going to kill us,” she says, but she’s not closing her eyes.

“Come on, Rosie. I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Live life on the wild side with me.”

She laughs at that. The sound hits me right in the chest, making me tear my eyes off the road to glimpse at the pure joy on her face. Her eyes are wrinkled, and her smile is wide as she continues to laugh and laugh and laugh… until she’s crying.

“Fuck.” I ease my foot off the accelerator and slowly bring the speed down. She’s crying. I fucked up, I always do.

“Rosie,” I say, reaching for her hand. “Angel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She’s shaking her head, her tears streaming down her face. “You didn’t.” Huh? I’m even more confused. Why is she crying then? She wipes her tears with her hand and then turns to face me. She’s smiling. Her smile is wide and so beautiful. “I’m crying because I’m happy. I’m so happy. Thank you.”

I let out a breath of relief. Thank fuck I didn’t scare her. I should be focusing on the road, but I can’t help but look at her face as she smiles at me and looks at me with adoration. She shouldn’t be. I’m a mess, a fuck up, and she’s looking at me like I’m her savior right now.

I reach over and grip her small, delicate fingers in my hand. Interlocking our hands and squeezing. She lets out a small gasp, and I turn to face her. “You have nothing to thank me for,” I tell her because it’s true. I haven’t done anything special for her. I just took her to experience a little danger and some adrenaline.

I realize how thankful she is for this small gesture when she squeezes my hand back and sighs. For me, it’s small, but for her, it’s huge. She let go and lived in the moment, which I’m sure isn’t something she’s ever done.

I pull my hand away from hers and grab the steering wheel, taking the exit to a familiar location.

I keep driving along the road, the view making me gulp. I haven’t been here in so long since…

And now I’m taking her here with me. It won’t mean anything to her, but it means something to me. Bringing someone else here feels a little weird, but at the same time, I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d want to bring here.

The road narrows as the ground gets higher and higher. Rosalie’s looking out the window, seeing as the view gets farther away the higher we go. She looks back at me, questioning where we’re going, but she doesn’t ask, and I don’t answer.

When we reach the top, I stop the car and pull the handbrake up.

“This is it?” she asks.

“Yep.”

“Is this the part where you jump, and I’m an accomplice in your suicide?” she jokes.

I laugh. “You’re funny.”

She smiles. “So… what do we do?”

“We chill.” I turn to face her, and the look on her face makes me chuckle. She’s confused. Her brows are furrowed, and her lips are pursed, which makes me glance down at her lips. They’re pink, and they look so soft.

I tear my eyes away from her lips and instead bring something else to my mouth. I take out my cigarettes from my jacket and light one up. Her eyes stay focused on the movement of the cigarette as I bring it to my lips.

“I thought there’d be more, you know, with your reputation and all.”

I snap my eyes toward her. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“So, it’s not true?” she asks.

I shrug. “Some of it is, some of it isn’t.”

“And the drug dealer part?” she asks.

I’m not up for discussing what I do or don’t do in my free time. She doesn’t need to know about it, and it doesn’t concern her, so I don’t say anything. I inhale the cigarette and blow the smoke out of the window.

She sighs loudly. “Can I try?”

That catches my attention. I look at her as her brows raise. Her hands are out and open, waiting for something

“Try what?”

She points at the cigarette hanging out of my mouth. “That.”

“That?” I ask. “Do you even know what it’s called?” I joke.

“Can I smoke?” she asks.

I lift my brow at her. “I think you’ve had enough excitement tonight, angel.”

She frowns a little but then shakes her head. “Please?”

Jesus, I can’t say no to her. She looks like a little puppy dog. I take the cigarette out of my mouth and hand it to her. She picks it up between her thumb and pointer finger. I laugh. “Have you ever done this before?” I know the answer. Of course, she hasn’t.

“No,” she admits. “Will you teach me?”

I smirk. “That’s what I’m here for.”

I grab her hand in mine, relishing how different we are but how well her hand fits in mine. I put the cigarette between her pointer and middle finger and bring her hand to her lips. “Open.”

She opens her mouth and stays like that, waiting for me. I bring her hand closer to her face until the cigarette is inside her mouth. She tentatively closes her mouth until her lips are wrapped around it, and now I’m thinking of her lips wrapped around something else.

Christ.

I need to focus on the task at hand and not get carried away with how I could teach her so many things other than smoking.

“Now what?” she mumbles with the cigarette between her lips.

I grin. “Suck.”

Yeah, this no longer sounds like I’m teaching her how to smoke, and definitely sounds more like I’m teaching her something completely different.

She must have caught on because her cheeks redden as she blushes, but she complies. She sucks, inhaling the cigarette until she’s coughing uncontrollably.

I can’t help but laugh. “That’s enough, newbie,” I tell her, reaching for the cigarette.

She bats my hand away. “Teach me, then.”

I almost laugh again. She’s eager to learn. “Okay, try again. This time, inhale and hold it.”

She nods and brings the cigarette back to her lips, trying again. She sucks and inhales, keeping the smoke there for a bit before she blows it out and coughs.

“Much better,” I tell her. “You did so well.”

Her eyes light up at the praise, shining as she smiles at me.

“You’re not wearing white tonight,” I tell her, taking the cigarette from her and bringing it to my lips.

She laughs. “Nope, no white. I didn’t want to get dirty.”

I inwardly groan. Heat floods my groin at those words, and I swallow the temptation to reply with something less than friendly.

“So, New York?” I say instead.

She sighs, and I instantly feel shitty for bringing it up when she was trying to forget it and her mom.

“Yeah. My mother invited me to some charity gala event and basically threatened to drag me back there if I didn’t go.”

“And you didn’t want to go?”

She shakes her head. “No. She wanted to set me up with her friend’s son, a hotel owner who wants to find a wife.”

My eyes widen. “A wife? Aren’t you eighteen?” I assume she’s a freshman since I hadn’t seen her before last week.

“Yeah, but according to my mother, I’m running out of time. ‘these are my prime years.’” she says, using air quotes.

“Jesus.” I can’t imagine marrying anyone at eighteen. Hell, I can’t ever imagine marrying at all.

“I just want to get through college and live my life how I want. Even if it ends up in a loveless marriage and a rich husband who’s always on business trips.”

I scoff. “Isn’t every marriage loveless?”

Her head snaps towards me. “You don’t believe in love?” she asks.

“No,” I tell her, honestly.

“Why?”

“Why do you?” I retort.

She shrugs. “Because love is beautiful.”

I lift my brow. “Have you ever been in love?”

“No,” she admits.

“Then how do you know what it’s like, or if it’s even real?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Have you ever been in love?” she retorts.

I inhale the cigarette and blow the smoke out the window. “Obviously not.” I almost laugh. “Because it isn’t—”

“Then how do you know it’s not real.”

“Because I do. Love isn’t real, angel. Hate to break it to you. There’s attraction, lust, but love is bullshit.”

She shakes her head. “You’re so cynical. What happened for you not to believe in love?”

I shrug, looking away from her. “Don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Oh c’mon.” she says, “It can’t be worse than me coming to your house asking for you to take my virginity.”

I snicker, looking over at her. “That wasn’t so bad,” I tease, loving how her cheeks turn red as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I sigh, feeling my jaw clench. I don’t feel like talking about this right now, but she’s right. She’s been opening up, might as well give her something. “My parents,” I tell her.

“They don’t love each other?” she asks.

I laugh. “Oh, they do. At least that’s what they say, but underneath, it’s a complete disaster. A whole mess of lies.”

She looks almost worried. The line between her brows is begging me to smooth it out with my thumb, but I don’t want to touch her. She’s too close to me already, and I’m sure I’m not her favorite person right now after admitting that I don’t believe in love.

“Why?” she asks.

I blow out a breath. “My father,” I say. “I don’t know if my mom knows or if they have some sort of arrangement, but he cheats on her. Often.”

“Oh.”

I’ll never forget when I walked in on him and his assistant in his office at work. I was only thirteen, and if my dad hadn’t been screwing around that day, maybe what happened later wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he would have helped me, and it wouldn’t have ended the way it did.

“Yeah, so sue me for not believing in love when the two people I looked up to all my life turn around and cheat.”

She lifts her hand and places it on top of mine. Squeezing it lightly until I look up at her. “I’m sorry that happened,” she says. “But you can’t use one example to reference every other relationship.”

I know that, but my parents aren’t the only ones to cheat, and they won’t be the last. So how could love exist if people could do that to those they claim to love?

She shuffles in her seat, and my eyes drift down to her heels. The sight makes me smile, making me forget for a minute about my parents.

“You look good in heels,” I say, seeing her smile and tuck her hair behind her ear, flushing. She reaches down, takes off her heels, and props her legs onto the dashboard.

I like seeing her comfortable, like she can be whoever she wants to be around me, and I won’t judge her. I love finding out new things about her, her quirks and likes, and what she believes and doesn’t.

Every time we talk, I figure out how different we are. She doesn’t know much about me, but I’m letting her in slowly because I want to get to know her. I want to get to know more about her every time we hang out. I wish I knew why, but she captivates me.

My eyes drift from her feet up her legs, seeing her dress raised higher on her thighs from propping her feet up. I tear my eyes away. I shouldn’t look at her legs or how her dress has ridden to the point where I can almost see her panties. Nope.

“Let’s go,” I tell her, opening the car door.

“What? Where?” she asks, dropping her legs and turning to face me.

I get out of the car and lean on the door, looking at her from the window. “Come on, angel. I won’t bite.” I smirk at her. “Unless you ask me to.”


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