GRAYSON

Nessa ignored the rest of my texts over winter break, making me want to punch something.

Myself mostly.

The only exception was when I asked if she needed a ride back to the bay area at the beginning of January. As it turned out, she was already on campus by the time I messaged her.

That one hit me in the chest. I thought just maybe she'd still let me drive her back to Oakland. Somehow on that hour and a half drive, I could up convince her that I hadn't been doing all of this for sex. Hell, if all I wanted was sex, I could get it from any of the chicks who lurked around Julian's house night and day, hoping to get it on with the football guys who lived there.

I wanted a whole lot more than sex. And I wanted it with Nessa.

The reason she went back to campus early, though, was to be there when her roommate showed up. Madie was returning for the semester, and Nessa wanted to be around for her. That made me relax a bit. She hadn't purposely dodged me.

Although Nessa should have known that I would have gone back to Oakland whenever, as long as it meant I could give her a ride. I wished she would have let me know. But in the same breath, I couldn't blame her for not bothering. Because even I hated myself a little bit.

She was just so fucking determined to find something wrong with me, and it'd pissed me off. It still pissed me off.  But even so, I regretted some of the sharp things I said. I regretted fucking up my chances by not doing more to reassure her of what I wanted.

Her. All of her.

Our make-out session had been hot enough that memories of it kept me up at night, hard and uncomfortable. But kissing her honestly hadn't even crossed my mind when I'd made my way to her house. And sex definitely hadn't been on the brain. Not until she started grinding on my lap, anyway.

And there was no way in hell she hadn't been thinking about it, too. I felt it in the way that she kissed me. In the way that she groaned into my lips and thrust her hips against mine.

Like goddamn, Adler. Don't lie to yourself.

It was probably just as well that Nessa didn't need a ride back to campus. My mom unknowingly scheduled me an appointment with Dr. Martinez for the Monday morning that spring semester classes started. Which I thought was bullshit, and I didn't hold back from telling her. She shouldn't even be able to do that, but things like that tended to slip by when the whole team at the Cedarwood clinic have known me since birth.

I didn't need to go. The slight ache in my chest was just a result of the cold and stress, and I regretted even mentioning it to my mom. But I went, and sure enough, everything was normal. Or as normal as it ever was anyway. And it left me racing to get to my first lecture on time.

Brodie was in it with me, which was good. He'd saved me a seat by some of the other guys from the team. But it wasn't until I settled in beside him, pulling my laptop out, that I realized who was sitting directly in front of me. Her head was huddled together with a blonde-haired chick, and they were whispering about something.

Nessa. And I could only assume the other girl was Madie.

Shit, I could smell her. That might be fucking creepy, but I had gone home that night with her sweet-smelling perfume all over me. And now it was wafting in my direction, sending me reeling. My mind was instantly flooded with memories of Nessa in my lap, kissing me like she was as desperate for me as I was for her.

I shifted awkwardly in my seat as I watched her and Madie together, waiting for one of them to turn around. They didn't.

Unsurprisingly, I didn't listen to a single word the Western Civ professor had to say. And apparently, Nessa didn't either. I heard her lean over to Madie and groan the same thing. Only her reason was that the hot nerd thing the professor had going really did it for her. It was a distraction, apparently. After all, the nerdy ones were just her type.

Boiling jealousy and a surge of annoyance flared up inside me.

Pretty sure guitar-playing football players were her type, too, considering how she'd thrust her tongue into my mouth just a couple of weeks ago.

I managed to pull myself together for a bit, but it didn't last long. At the end of class, another girl who'd been sitting by Madie and Nessa walked up to Professor Evans, pulling him into a clearly non-platonic hug. And Nessa took the opportunity to complain.

"All the tall, dark, and handsome ones are always taken," she muttered.

Well, that was just a goddamn lie.

"I'm not taken," I said, leaning down to murmur in her ear.

She knew I was wide open, waiting to catch anything she threw at me.

Nessa jumped at that, whirling around in her seat. Her alarm only lasted a split second, but it was long enough to show me that she honestly hadn't realized I was behind her. Which cut deep because I half-assumed that she'd said those things about Professor Evans because she was trying to piss me off.

"Shut up, Grayson," she snapped. "You don't count."

Like hell, I didn't count. We'd see about that.

Madie turned around too, and I noticed how she tensed when she saw the row of us. Brodie sat at the end, and between us was Jake, Owen, and Jonah. They were decked out in football sweats.

I tried to catch her eye, wanting to give her some kind of encouraging gesture because she honestly looked scared as shit, but Brodie called out to her first.

And my mouth dropped open.

"How's it feel to ruin someone's life just because you didn't want to date him anymore?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, spreading out obnoxiously. "I swear chicks can get away with anything these days. They just have to cry rape—"

A notebook hit Brodie square in the chest, and Nessa's harsh voice cut in.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, asshole."

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was happening?

Nessa was seething, and I didn't blame her. I was plain stunned. Fucking stunned that Brodie would say something as shitty as that to a girl who looked like she wanted the world to swallow her whole.

Madie tugged on Nessa's sleeve, begging for them to get out of there, trying to escape Brodie's dark gaze. It broke my dumbass heart.

Nessa didn't wait a single second before ushering Madie down the steps of the lecture hall. And she didn't bother looking back at us. At me. I watched until she vanished out of the room before turning on Brodie.

He suddenly looked deflated.

"What the hell?" I shouted down the aisle, looking over the confused faces of Jonah, Owen, and Jake.

Brodie grumbled in response, but none of it was coherent. He stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and practically stumbling down the stairs like he was drunk. At least being drunk would explain why the hell he'd said that.

I followed him, glaring at his back until we reached our room. He burst into the small dorm first, and I slammed the door behind me before turning on him. But even though I'd had an entire ten-minute walk to figure out what to say, my mind was still completely blank.

"What the hell?" I repeated.

"What?"

He turned to stare at me with furrowed brows.

No. No way. He had to be fucking kidding me. He seriously had the gall to stare at me like he had no idea what I was talking about?

"What do you mean what? Why the fuck would you say something like that? Reid literally made that girl's brain bleed."

Something flashed through Brodie's eyes before he trained a callous look on me, roaming my face.

"You're just on her side because you want to fuck her roommate." He laughed, and there was a greasiness to it that made my skin crawl. "I saw you staring at her in class. Doubt you heard a word Professor Evans said."

I didn't. I really didn't. But that was hardly the point.

"There's no such thing as sides with shit like this," I said, tossing my backpack on my bed.

Brodie spun around, but I didn't miss how that creepy smile fell, revealing a glimpse of my friend. My rationale, even-keeled, non-asshole friend.

"Whatever," he murmured.

And he was gone again.

My chest tightened uncomfortably, and I rubbed at it.

I hated how when people did things that chipped away at my heart, I actually felt it. Not that whole-body pain that people describe when going through heartache. Not the metaphorical pain that stems from your limbic system. No, it was like a sharp pain that twinged, cut deep. For me, it was physical.

And I hated it.

I stormed out of the room, hoping I would run into Nessa now that I'd ditched Brodie. I could ask her how Madie was and try to convince her to give me another chance. But she wasn't around. And she wouldn't respond to my texts, asking if we could talk.

It wasn't until a few nights later that I found her. And we were back where it all began—Julian's house.

Except for this time, Nessa wasn't smiling in the corner with Beau when I arrived.

She was bent over, ass in the air, throwing up in the bushes.

💗

the song above has been on my grayson~nessa
Spotify playlist since before I even started writing their story. fits them so well, IMO.

xoxo amelie