October 29

Toronto, Ontario

Watching Greyson walk away is always one of the most difficult things to do. I bite my lip against the urge to follow him, rubbing my arms against the sudden chill his absence brings. My body still seems to buzz at the points where he'd touched me. Even though it had been only for a few moments, I ached to climb right back into his arms.

Why does he have to look so damn tempting, but totally unreachable, in his black jeans, snug grey t-shirt, and open navy flannel button down? It makes me just want to crawl up onto his lap and tuck myself inside the soft fabric of his open shirt with him.

It makes me want to press my head against his chest and fall asleep to the sound of his heart beating. Sometimes, I think I need the comforting reminder he still has one, that it still works. That it still beats for me.

I know he has to care. He wouldn't have reacted the way he did if he didn't care, right? My protective, caring, gentle Greyson still had to be in there. He just has to be.

Hope flares wild, and bright, in my chest before I manage to pull it back in and manage my heart's expectations. But, his reaction tonight only encourages me. He's still in there, he's still my Greyson, even if he's trying hard not to be.

Even if there is only a small sliver of him left, I know I'll take him no matter what condition he's in, such is this insane love and need for him that burns inside me all the time. Part of me was realizing I might be better off letting him go, letting him cut himself off from me, from us. But I couldn't. And I couldn't explain why, not even to myself.

What remained clearest of all, was that I loved him. I love him. And you never leave the people you love behind, especially not when they need you. It was clearer than ever that he needed someone to break through all those isolating, self-inflicted walls he's building around himself.

"Do you want to get out of here, Ellie?" I'm jolted from my thoughts as Theo whispers as subtly as he can manage with everyone looking at us, then he and Hudson stare down at me intently, waiting for my answer.

An unfamiliar voice joins our small group before I can reassure Hudson and Theo that I was fine. I was better than fine; I had a renewed sense of determination after seeing that flash of the Greyson I recognized tonight. "Don't tell me that dipshit ruined your night, Elle?"

"Which one?" Theo mutters under his breath near my ear and the stress of the past few very tense moments makes me want to let go of that tension on a slightly hysterical laugh. I barely contain the slightly over excited, confusing, embarrassed, and stressed feelings, though as he squeezes my arm in sympathy.

I glance over at the stranger who knows my name and smile a little distractedly while casually shifting closer to Hudson and Theo. I have no desire to make any new friends tonight, not after that scene. All I want is to get away from being the centre of the room's attention. I relax a little as I recognize the boy Max called Brady shifting closer to us. The one who'd made him apologize in the end. This was his house, after all.

His smile widens as he looks down at me, his all-American good looks clearly a tool he was used to using in his charm-offensive arsenal. I smile politely back, but glance in the direction Greyson went quickly before I bring my attention back to Brady.

"No, it's alright. Thanks for sticking up for me, but it's not a big deal, honestly. Everyone is still having fun, let's just forget it happened, okay?"

"Sure thing, Elle. I'm Brady, you come find me if you need anything. I don't like when guys are giant ass wipes to girls, so I'll look out for you."

"We've got her, Brady. Thanks, though." Theo's arm wraps securely around my shoulder, and Hudson steps forward to clap the beautiful, sandy-brown-haired boy on the shoulder and move him along toward another minor scuffle by the pool table.

I glance between the boys, uncertain of their now overtly territorial, protective actions. Not that I wasn't used to being sheltered by them, but they didn't normally come on this strong with strangers. I chalk it up to the tension of the evening.

"All good, Ellie?" Hudson pokes my ribs, trying to nudge a smile from me, and I nod, attempting to buy some time to think about whether I should try to find Greyson. There has to be something I can do to speak with him privately. There has to be some way for me to get through to him. Desperation was quickly becoming a standard presence in my messy emotional wardrobe, something else I was learning how to mask with my usual bright smiles and cheerful tone.

"You steer clear of Brady, okay? He's an okay dude, but there's some pretty deep rivalry shit between his older brother and Brodie, and the hockey teams or whatever. Don't get tangled up in all that, okay?"

I feel they aren't being fully honest with me for some reason, but I decide not to press the matter here. I file the information away to ask Hudson about later.

Listening to Hudson as he continues to mutter under his breath about unchivalrous assholes makes me bite back a smile when I return my attention to him fully. I pat his arm gently, trying to reassure him. I bump Theo's shoulder playfully in a silent signal that I'm fine. It seems to help them relax, which makes me want to roll my eyes. I hook each of my arms through theirs, then swing them in the direction of where we'd left our friends earlier, trying to move them away from the tension of the evening.

"I don't care about any other assholes, I have you guys. And don't I know the rest of the world can't hold a candle to you. Not to mention, I literally have no time for any men in my life other than you lot, not that I'm complaining. You're just perfect to me. The only men I need in my life."

"Aw, shucks, Ells Bells, you're going to make us catch feelings if you keep talking like that. Even I don't think there's enough of you to go around for all of us. Grey's a greedy bastard, always has been, always will be—once he get's his head back on straight, he may not like the idea of sharing." Theo's twinkling eyes meet mine and I can't help but laugh at his teasing—even if it touches upon a particularly sensitive point for me with the rumours going around school currently.

From the twinkle in his eyes, and the soft smile on his lips as he looks down at me, I know he's only trying to normalize the rumours and take the sting out of them by making it all our joke. I smile up a thin, my heart so full of love that I'm surprised it doesn't burst out of me.

There's no use getting upset over it anymore, the people who matter know who I am. Even so, it's never fun to be labelled as the girl who sleeps around for no reason other than spiteful gossip. In a class of a hundred girls, I had only four close friends. Only four girls who really knew the real me. Even if what the others gossiped about was true, whose business is it but mine? Why are people so ready to throw others under the bus in self preservation? Was popularity worth the high cost of basic human kindness?

Amping up my excitement to get the evening back on track, I smile as flirtatiously as I can manage, while pushing down the anxious cycle of thoughts I always spin through when faced with the rumours. Two can play at this game, I think to myself.

"You know what I meant, Theo. Plus, like you're one to judge. You're spreading yourself truffle thin over the entire eligible female population of Toronto. There seems to be more than enough of you to go around. Or are the rumours of your prowess all lies? Maybe you leave your lovers unsatisfied after all? Perhaps you aren't quite up to the task anymore?"

Hudson and Theo just stare at me in shock, then erupt into deep, rolling laughter. Once I see Theo brace himself to lunge for me, I try to escape, but I'm not nearly quick enough.

Before I can even register the action, he has me trapped against him as he tickles my sides. "You little brat. Be careful, it sounds like you're trying to goad me into demonstrating my skills on you."

I feel the blush creep back up into my cheeks and I shake my head vigorously as I try to catch my breath. "I'll take your word for it, stop, Theo, please. I have to pee."

I can tell he immediately doubts my need to escape when he doesn't set me down right away, it's a tired excuse after all, but Hudson steps in to separate us. At least Hudson still listens.

"I'll come with you, Ellie."

"I can find the bathroom on my own, Hudson. I'm not two." Pride makes me wave off his offer, I can manage some things on my own, after all.

Theo grins down at me and rolls his eyes at our friend's overprotective nature. "Anyone want a fresh drink?"

I smile gratefully at him, then nod. "Just half as strong or less than yours, okay? Maybe something that doesn't taste like nail polish remover if you can manage this time? Please."

"No promises, Ells. I'll see what I can find."

I dart away from the boys in search of the washroom as they ask the others about drinks. I should have asked someone where it was, not to mention that I probably should have asked someone to unzip the back of my catsuit. Oh well, somehow, I'll manage.

After rounding the corner and poking my head into a few rooms, I finally find the guest bedroom that Hudson mentioned had the spare washroom in it, and I send a silent thank you to the universe when I see it's unoccupied.

After struggling to unzip myself, I finally manage to contort my body and peel the tacky fabric down to my thighs. I idly wonder how I'm going to get it back on with the slight sheen of perspiration making my skin just a little sticky.

Maybe I'll have to pull a Ross and baby-powder myself back into it. The thought has me laughing a little, despite my predicament. Although, realistically, who has baby powder in a guest bathroom?

I quickly realize once I wash and dry my hands, that getting back into my costume is definitely a two-person job, especially considering I'm just a little wobbly from the drinks I've shared with Theo. I wish I had my phone so I could text Vi, or one of the girls to come help me.

Biting my lip, I tug the fabric as close to in position as I can manage, then step back out into the guest room and straight into a broad, muscular chest.

I swallow my scream of surprise, jolting when calloused hands close around my bare arms to steady me.

Jerking back towards the light and relative safety of the bathroom, I stare up at the boy in front of me, relief flooding my system when I see it's only Greyson.

I laugh nervously as he stares down at me. He immediately scans the bathroom and bedroom, looking around. I understand in that moment that he's wondering if I was in here with someone else and my heart sinks down to my stomach.

Does that mean he's been seeing other girls? If he's so ready to assume I would be with someone else, what does that say about our uncertain relationship?

"What are you doing here, Greyson?"

He completely ignores me, pushing me back a step, but not letting go. "Why are you half naked and where do you think you're going like that?"

Anger rises to the surface of my scattered emotions, and I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm not half naked. I just can't reach my zipper. If you don't want me going anywhere like this, then you better help me zip back up, otherwise I'm about to walk through the whole damn crowd to find Vi, Theo, or Hudson. So what's it going to be? And you didn't answer my question. Did you follow me here?"

When he takes a step away from me, I sigh. Of course we're going to do this the hard way. There isn't an easy way with him.

"I was on the balcony, heard someone come in." When he doesn't offer up any more information that that, or move to help me, I bite back a scream of frustration.

Shouldering past him, and trying to hide the hurt at being so casually ignored flooding through me, I reach for the guest room door only to have him yank me away and back towards the warm, dim light of the bathroom. I stumble and he catches me, his grip slightly harder than usual, but it steadies me.

Standing frozen in his arms, I look up at him, wondering what's going on in that brain of his. Wondering why I can't read his emotions anymore. Wondering why he won't let me.

His eyes darken as he looks down at me, at the fabric of my costume draped over my chest and hanging open at the back. His dark pupils dominate his whiskey brown eyes and his nostrils flare slightly as he watches me.

The rough skin of his palms makes me shiver as he runs his hands up my arms slowly, so slowly I want to scream, until they rest on my bare shoulders.

The heat and familiarity of his touch make me want to lean into him; they make me want to press my body against his, like I'd done so many times in the summer. Every part of me aches to be near him, but I manage to keep my traitorous body still, even as my pulse jackhammers in my ears.

His gruff whispered command jolts me back into the present. "Turn around."

With his hands guiding me, I turn to face the door and his big body crowds me, drowning my senses in his familiar scent, tinged tonight with the not-so-subtle burn of whiskey and the faint, lingering traces of tobacco and another earthy scent I don't recognize.

"Not so long ago I would have been trying to get you out of this, not zip you back into it."

Surprise makes me jump when I hear his whisper. I look over my shoulder at him, waiting for him to do something, anything. But when he just stands there looking down at my bare back, uncertainty grips me.

I force myself to meet his dark, hollow eyes. Eyes that seem so out of focus from the alcohol, as I respond to his slightly cruel reminder, "Isn't this our thing? You helping me back into my clothes when I'm feeling vulnerable?"

Memories of the night I'd been so nervous in his arms, that he'd playfully, and oh so distractingly sexily, put me back into my lingerie, rather than pushing things further that night.

I watch him over my shoulder as his eyes cloud with some unrecognizable expression, but he stays silent. I sigh, releasing my breath shakily, accepting my usual attempts to connect with him will probably be a waste of time, like they have been for the past weeks.

I shrug against his hold lightly, refusing to look away from him, even though nerves push me to break eye contact. "Not so long ago we were together and I would have let you peel me out of this thing. I might have begged you to. I might have even tried to seduce you. But, not so long ago, you also would have been asking me to tell you how I felt about you, like it was everything you wanted to hear. Not so long ago, you wanted me, my love, and everything that came with it. I would do anything to have that back, Greyson. I'd give you anything to have that back. It's funny how things change in just the blink of an eye. It's like sand in an hourglass, or a sieve. One moment it's there, the next it's not. I don't know what to do or say with you anymore. I don't like how that feels."

His silence settles down on me like an anvil, and I close my eyes against the sting of tears as I finally look away from him. I've cried enough over this boy this month. I fight against the tears now with all the energy that isn't consumed trying to memorize the feel of his hands on my skin.

When his fingertips graze the bare skin of my lower back, it arches against my will and I bite back a shuddering sigh at the sensation it creates. He fumbles with the zipper for a moment, then swears under his breath as his hands stop moving, pressed flush against my skin. I wonder why he's stopped. Is he finally listening to me? Is this my chance? Is this the moment I've been waiting for?

I can't resist the need to push him further, to make some kind of connection. I don't even care how desperate I sound.

"Why won't you let me love you, Greyson? Please, just tell me, help me understand. I thought we could get through this. Until Thanksgiving, I thought we could do anything. Now? It's all you can do to push me away. Why are we going backwards?"

It almost seems pointless, my asking again. He's never answered before. But I can't let it go, I can't let him go. I don't care how irrational it is, how unhealthy it might be, how devastating it could be, I only want him. And I would take him any way I could get him.

"I just can't, Elle."

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek harder to fight the rolling waves of despair and hurt that roll through me. "You mean won't. I know you can, you've loved me before and you've let me love you before, so I know now that it's a choice. You won't let me love you, and I want to know why."

His fingers close over my ribs and he turns me to face him, the zipper still mostly open on my costume. The cool drywall pressing against my bare, flushed skin makes me jolt in surprise.

For a moment, I hold my breath, wondering what kind of response I've provoked in my sad, angry boy.

His lips press close to my ear as he drops his head down to mine. I try to stay still, not wanting to make him pull away. All I want to do is wrap my arms around him, but I'm too scared he'll reject me again.

I don't know how long we stand here, but I refuse to be the one who breaks. Nerves wrack my body with small, shivering shakes, but I fight to stay calm, to hold myself steady.

Finally, I feel his lips move against my skin, and I hold my breath. Nothing in this world could have prepared me for the raw and honest words whispered in the dark, his lips tracing the shell of my ear as he confesses his twisted, punishing logic.

"I can't let you love me, because everyone who loves me leaves me one way or another. I can't love you, because horrible things happen to people I love. People I love leave, and I just can't take it anymore. I won't survive another person I love getting hurt or leaving. None of it is in my control. Sometimes it feels like the only people in my life who stay are the relationships based on hate. More and more, I find that comforting, because I know how to deal with hate. I'm probably better off alone. I can control what happens when I'm alone."

My heart breaks on his whispered confession, and I finally let him push me away, just a little, so I can look up into his eyes. I'm desperate to understand him, to connect with him. But the look set in stone across his face tells me he's dead serious, that he believes what he says to the core of his soul.

I try to wrap my mind around his feelings. I try to understand him. I try to puzzle the small, secretly whispered clues together. How would I feel if so many things felt out of my control? I would want to take some of that control back.

I know I have only a few moments of his attention tonight before he pushes me away. How can I fight against that? How can I show him it can be different? Can I? Do I want to? How far would I go for him?

I don't even know why I asked myself the last question. With him, the answer is always yes. With him, the answer is always as far as it takes. 

- - - 

Hope you're enjoying the story! I've been hard at work brainstorming and plotting more chapters, so stay tuned! Please vote if you're enjoying the story and/or comment to let me know what you think so far! 

Xx Toria