G R A Y S O N

I'd accomplished the first step in a very important mission.

I was in Nessa's room. Well, I was in the doorway to her room. It was close enough. Only one more foot to go.

Of course I'd been in her dorm room before, but this was different. This room was a harder-to-reach part of Nessa. It held backstories and memories, and something told me she didn't just let anyone in. Something told me that I was the first guy in a long time to play football with her brother in the backyard.

I still couldn't believe my luck, honestly. I wasn't sure what had convinced her to let me come over, but I wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

Nessa's brisk pace and sudden fidgety motions as she walked into her room ahead of me told me she might be having second thoughts, but I forgot all about that when she let out an exasperated sigh.

"I told you I wasn't going to be any good at the guitar, Gray."

Gray.

A smirk stretched onto my face. I tipped my guitar next to me and leaned against the doorway's frame. Nessa turned to face me and jumped a little bit like she hadn't thought I would still be there or something.

I wasn't going anywhere.

But she'd have to figure that out for herself.

"Did you just call me Gray?"

Fuck, it sounded good, too.

She raised a brow. "Like that better than Everett, huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, everyone calls me Gray. But I'd never heard you say it before."

She frowned, lips twitching as some internal dialogue went on in her head. I felt left out. Maybe one day I would figure out precisely what was going on in her beautiful brain, but until then, I would just have to ask.

Watching her, I tipped my head to the side. "Why are you making that face?"

That face—the curious one—immediately fell. "I'm not making a face."

"Yes, you are," I insisted, pushing off the door frame and walking into the room. After kicking the door shut behind me, I leaned my guitar next to her bed.

"What's your middle name?" she asked suddenly—a changing-the-topic tactic if I'd ever heard one. But I shook my head, not eager to divulge that information when it would only lead to other questions I wasn't ready to answer. "I deserve to know," Nessa added. "You call me Adler all the time."

"My own little Irene," I said with a smile. "A dangerous girl like no other."

She snorted, denial in her tone. "I'm not dangerous."

She had no clue, did she?

"You get my blood pumping," I said. "Trust me when I say that's dangerous."

Just looking at her in that little skirt did strange things to my heart, things that would likely have my cardiologist concerned.

I flopped back on her bed with a sigh, making myself comfortable like I had that night in the dorms. I stared at the ceiling, relieved that I didn't find a boy band or another celebrity staring back at me.

But even if there were...that would be one more thing I knew about Nessa. And I'd be grateful for that. Just by being here, in her room, she was giving me a big glimpse into her world. And I supposed...I supposed I could do the same.

"It's Wilder," I admitted.

"What?"

She seemed to have forgotten what we were talking about. Maybe I might have been able to drop the topic, but it was too late now. So I repeated myself.

"My middle name is Wilder."

"That's not even embarrassing," she said. "That's..."

Her eyes lit up, but she didn't finish her sentence.

"What?"

Nessa cleared her throat. "Nothing. I just don't know why you didn't want to tell me."

I exhaled, long and slow, to buy me a little time. "It's not the name. It's—"

The story behind the name.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's what?"

"Forget it." I sat abruptly, looking to put this conversation behind us. "Let's play some guitar, huh?"

Nessa looked skeptical, but once I patted the bed and flashed her an encouraging look, she slowly lowered onto the bed next to me. I placed the guitar in her lap before taking her hands and maneuvering them into the right places. Nessa let me, and even though she was a little stiff, she gave me free rein to position her.

I tried really hard not to think about how we were, well, touching. This was business. This was a lesson. In music. Nothing else.

God, how I wanted it to be something else. But I knew that Nessa wasn't ready for that. And until she gave me a sign that she was...I had to keep my thoughts in check. Even though it burned every time our skin brushed. The room was stiflingly hot but in the best of ways. I felt cocooned in this moment.

I leaned in, breathing in her ear. "Loosen up, Adler. Just pretend you're playing the ukulele."

"It's a lot bigger," she muttered.

A chuckle slipped out of me, and I felt a little shiver work its way through Nessa. Fuck, she was so close, and she smelled so goddamn good. How was I supposed to teach her anything when I couldn't even think straight?

"Relax," I encouraged.

I was a hypocrite. I was the one who needed to relax here. Jittery, nervous energy coursed through me.

Nessa didn't loosen up. The way she was handling the guitar was stiff and not quite right, but if I could just reach around her—

"Hang on," I murmured before stretching one of my legs to her other side and wrapping my arms around her from behind. There, much better.

Except, apparently, Nessa did not think it was better.

"What the hell are you doing, Wilder?"

I froze. She said it. Oh, fuck, she said it. No one knew my middle name. Hardly anyone knew about my heart, either. It was a hidden part of me. And now Nessa had a piece of it, and she had no idea. She had no idea what it did to me to hear her call me that.

I forced myself to laugh, to pretend to be calm and collected when in reality, it felt like I was going to combust. 

"I see what you did there," I said softly. "And I'm going to teach you how to play the guitar. That's what I'm doing. But you're clearly nervous, so I'm going to play first. And you're going to relax. But for the record, singing isn't my strong suit. And it's hard to see, so I'm just going by touch here. Might not be perfect."

"Excuse me?" Nessa immediately squeaked out a defense. "I'm not nervous."

She was. But it was okay; I was, too. We could be nervous together. And maybe, at some point, she could admit exactly why she was nervous. But until then, we would just make music.

I repositioned myself into a spot where I could reach the right parts of the guitar. Nessa's hands fell into her lap.

"Then prove it," I muttered before strumming the first chord.

This was the only song that made sense to play. Yes, it was a good beginning choice. But also...Nessa was my Brown Eyed Girl. She maybe didn't realize it yet, but fuck, she was.

I could feel her relax into me as I strummed and sang. She probably thought this was something I did for girls all the time, but the truth was, I rarely sang in front of anyone. This was just for her.

When I hit the chorus, Nessa even joined in, and pure joy spread through me. Her voice was perfectly sultry, bringing in the most divine harmony that felt just right. A perfect compliment. I leaned in closer, needing to feel her breaths, the vibration of her voice. I needed...more.

When we hit the last stanza, I nearly circled back and started the song over again. I didn't want to let this moment go. But maybe, just maybe, we could carry this energy over. Continue it.

The silence that followed hummed with it—the energy. It sang even in the silence.

Nessa finally spoke. Her voice was raspy but sweet. "Brown Eyed Girl, huh?" she asked with a light laugh.

I understood that laugh.

I cleared my throat. "The internet says it's one of the easiest songs to learn how to play."

Not a lie, not entirely the truth.

It was her turn now. Finding Nessa's wrist, I wrapped my fingers around it and brought her hand back to the guitar, positioning her in the right places over the strings. This time, though, I didn't know how to act like touching her didn't affect me. Not with all the awareness that simmered in the air, wanting to be acknowledged. I let my fingers drift up her arms, reluctant to release our connection.

My pulse was rapid. And shit, I had to keep myself in check. Every time she shifted on the bed, her ass brushed between my legs, and our guitar lesson would be interrupted if I wasn't careful.

Somehow, I managed to get my head in the right space, and after twenty minutes of trying to teach Nessa the different chords for Brown Eyed Girl, I could tell she was about to give up. She sighed with frustration, but when I peeked around her shoulder, I saw a smile on her face.

God, she was something else when she smiled.

"Your voice is one of a kind, Nessa," I said, trying to encourage her. Trying to keep that smile there. "I don't know why you're still undecided on your major. You could easily get into any of the music programs."

And then we'd get to spend more time together. It was the perfect scenario.

She shook her head. "Music is just a silly little hobby."

I could tell that was what she was just telling herself because it was easier than rejection.

"I've learned that often those little hobbies that we tell people are silly are really the things that we love more than anything else. We're just too afraid to let people see that we're invested in something in case they think it's silly."

She twisted to stare at me. There was a vulnerability in her eyes, and I absorbed it. I wanted her to know that she could be vulnerable with me. That she could show me all her silly little hobbies, and I would listen to all of them. I could listen to Nessa talk about anything. Everything and anything.

When she didn't say anything, my lips twitched. It was a little enjoyable to watch her go speechless.

"If you were a music major, we could have classes together," I said.

She laughed breathlessly, and if I wasn't mistaken, heat flashed in her eyes. I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered if she would ever tell me.

"Grayson, I don't think I'd be very productive if we had a class together—" She cut herself off, pausing as if she only just comprehended what I'd said. "Wait, you're a music major?"

I nodded. "Music education."

"Music education?" she repeated. There was clear disbelief there. "As in...teaching kids how to play music?"

"Yeah, that's the idea," I said with a grin.

That seemed to put Nessa over the edge. She groaned, dropping her head into my chest. The guitar slipped through her fingers and onto the carpeted floor. And I couldn't help but laugh. And smile. Because Nessa was so close to me, and she felt so good.

But I needed to know what she was groaning about. I gripped her shoulders and pulled her back so I could see her pretty face. "What?"

"I've been trying really hard to hate you, Grayson," she whispered. Her eyes bore into mine, desperate. "But you're making it too hard. I need more flaws, not this music education crap."

I wanted to laugh at her lamenting, but I couldn't. I was too busy searching Nessa's eyes for everything she'd just said. I saw it all there, in those brown eyes. I didn't fully understand why she was trying to hate me, but that didn't entirely matter. The truth was...she didn't. Of course she didn't.

My breaths quickened, and so did Nessa's. We were breathing the same air, and our lips...our lips were so close. I could practically taste her. But I didn't dare.

Instead, I lifted a hand, cupping Nessa's face. My thumb dragged along her jawline. "What if you stopped trying to hate me, Nessa?"

She sucked in a breath before whispering the truth. "I'm afraid if I stop trying to hate you, I'll start kissing you. And I won't be able to stop."

Had she—had she just said that?

Oh, God, she had. And now she was staring at me, eyes wide because of what she'd just admitted, and lips parted in a way that was practically begging me to kiss them.

So I did.

I dared.

I wrenched Nessa closer.

"Fuck this," I breathed, slamming my lips to hers.

All my worries—about if this was too much, if I was pushing it too far—vanished as soon as our mouths collided. Nessa kissed me back so eagerly that I nearly lost it right then and there. Oh, hell. She felt exactly how I remembered, and holy shit, she could kiss.

She kissed wildly, giving up everything to me. It told me all I needed to know about what it would be like if we took it further between us. It told me everything I needed to know about how much she secretly wanted to take it further between us.

Fuck, it was so incredibly hard not to throw her back onto the bed and strip her down right here and now, but there was still a bit—although a very small bit—of logic that I'd hung onto. It was really challenging, though, especially when Nessa grabbed both sides of my face and kissed me harder. It was as though she thought I might end the kiss.

Never.

God, never.

I growled as I deepened the kiss instead, angling her face so I could slip my tongue in, tangle it with hers, and get absolutely lost.

"Fuck," I muttered when Nessa moaned.

That moan was so goddamn hot. It was the hint I needed; she wouldn't care if I twisted her in my lap so she could straddle me. She needed me closer, like I needed her closer, wanting to show her exactly how she made me feel.

Our lips parted briefly while I spun her around, and she was just as eager as me to connect them again once I got her into the right position on my lap.

"Never stop, Adler," I breathed against her lips.

I'm afraid if I stop trying to hate you, I'll start kissing you. And I won't be able to stop.

Her words rang in my head. Goddamn, she had no idea what those words did to me.

I never wanted her to stop.

Not ever.

Hopefully one day, she would realize that we never had to.