I knew from the first time,
I'd stay for a long time 'cause
I like me better when I'm with you
— I Like Me Better by Lauv

"Gray!" I screeched, slapping his hand away from the freshly baked cookies.

Both his hands shot up in surrender as he laughed, and I shot him a warning glare. Victoria pushed him out of the kitchen before doing the same to Liam and Isaac, who groaned in frustration.

"Come back in here again, and I'll make sure you don't get any cookies at all for the rest of the night!" Victoria threatened with her arms crossed over her chest before turning on her heel and walking back to me.

"Suckers!" I chortled.

"Just one cookie," huffed Isaac. "It smells so fucking good."

"You'll get your cookies in half an hour," said Jordan, setting the timer on the oven for the next batch.

They groaned again, and I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face. It was freaking adorable; they were acting like kids.

I popped another oreo into my mouth before heading over to Victoria, who was already transferring the cookies onto separate plates. It was officially the beginning of the summer term break, and the boys in the soccer house wanted to do a movie marathon. We were all completely drained since we had just finished our examinations not more than three hours ago, and we needed a good relaxation. I offered to bake cookies, and Victoria was more than willing to lend a hand. Jordan and Nick joined in too when they arrived, making the whole process quicker.

"I still can't believe you're leaving me with Gray," I whined, turning to face the kitchen's threshold with a scowl, where Gray was standing with Liam and Isaac.

He returned my scowl with a rather hostile smirk, and I shuddered at the thought of the endless teasing I would be receiving in the next six weeks alone with him. Everyone in this house, except Gray and I, was leaving in a few days.

Victoria giggled, nudging me with her shoulder. "Aren't you two a thing or something? I mean, you spend a lot of time together, and you sleep in the same room."

"It's your fault. You moved in with Liam." She didn't need to know that we shared the same bed too.

"You know I would love to stay and drag you out for a spa day, but I'd be murdered in cold blood if I don't visit my grandparents in Amsterdam," she pouted.

"Look at the bright side, Shortcake," Gray said in a light tone.

I frowned at him. "There's no bright side to being stuck with you alone."

"My presence is the bright side."

"Six weeks with Gray wouldn't be that bad," Liam assured me.

"True," Jordan agreed. "He'll take care of you. He knows exactly what we will do to him if something happens to you."

Isaac laughed, slapping Gray on the back. "It's bye-bye to his balls."

"Brought to you by Victoria Addams," supplied Nick.

We burst out laughing as Gray shook his head with a pained expression plastered across his face. Warmth blossomed in my chest, the blissful feeling of happiness filling me. These people made my numbered days here in Brickfields memorable.

I was going to miss all of them.

Once everything was prepared, we transferred to the living room and settled ourselves in front of the flat screen. I curled up next to Gray, who immediately draped a quilt over my legs, then I placed the plate with our share of cookies on my lap.

"Hi," he whispered, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

I giggled quietly. "Hi."

Tucker switched off the lights and jumped back into his bean bag while Luke started the first chosen movie for the night which was Deadpool 2. I grabbed a cookie and bit into it, immediately melting at how delicious it tasted. Gray cleared his throat lightly, and I raised my head to look at him, his mouth falling open instantly. Giggling, I fed him the cookie.

Throughout the first thirty minutes of the movie, I played with the ends of Gray's hair, enjoying its softness. I was more focused on him than I was on the movie, loving how his large hand caressed my hip. Never before have I felt this secured and protected with someone. I just wished it could last forever.

A dark cloud loomed over me at the thought, and I pulled my hand back.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing," I lied, attempting to focus on the movie. "I just remembered that you hate it when people touch your hair."

"I like it."

I straightened my back as I stared at him in disbelief. "Liar," I accused in a whisper. "You hate it."

"I don't when it's you."

"Shut up," Liam sneered, tossing a pillow over at Gray. "People are trying to watch a fucking movie. We don't want to listen to your love confessions."

Gray threw the pillow back at Liam, then dipped his head until his lips brushed my ears. "I don't lie, Shortcake," he whispered, wrapping his strong arms around me and tugging me closer. "Now, come back here."

My lips broke out into a smile as I cuddled up back into his arms. He grabbed both my legs and placed them over his before fixing the quilt.

I guess six weeks with Gray alone wouldn't be so bad.

●     ●     ●

I spent the entire night painting. It wasn't the most ideal thing to do, especially since summer classes were starting today. But after seeing off the others yesterday, and watching most of the students come down with their luggage and an excited grin on their faces, I started feeling depressed.

It would be nice to feel the excitement they felt.

"Earth to Summer?" Gray waved a hand in front of my face.

"Sorry, what is it?" I blinked, slightly dazed.

"Your phone."

My eyes dropped to the countertop, suddenly aware that my phone was ringing. The familiar name flashing on the screen washed off my sleepiness in an instant, and I hurriedly answered the call. "Nana!" I exclaimed, excusing myself from the kitchen and heading over to my bed.

"Summy," my Nana's voice beamed. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. What time is it there?" I asked, concerned. I was aware of the significant time difference between us.

"It's only ten in the evening. I called to ask if you have anyone accompanying you there? You can always come back to South Korea."

At the mention, I glanced over my shoulder to the little kitchen. Gray and I were in the middle of having a simple breakfast that he prepared; eggs and bacon with a cup of coffee.

"Don't worry, Nana. I have a friend who stayed behind. He's—" I stopped myself mid-sentence, realizing that I had just dug my own grave this time. Shit.

"He?" she squealed, and I slapped a hand to my forehead upon hearing a deep, husky laugh in the background followed by the word namjachingu (boyfriend).

I listened to them bicker with each other, arguing on what my alleged boyfriend looked like. I rubbed my forehead at my stupidity as they went on and on, talking about how they wished I'd find a boyfriend in college.

"Jalsaeng-gyeoss-eo?" (Is he handsome?) Nana asked, giggling to herself.

"Nana! Gramps!" I scolded, glancing over my shoulder once more to make sure Gray wasn't standing by the doorframe. "Jebal geumanhae!" (Please, stop it)

"Is your friend there right now?" Gramps asked, chuckling under his breath.

I sighed. "Yes."

"Can we talk to him? I want to make sure he's nice."

I hesitated for a moment, fiddling with the ends of my shirt before agreeing. "Fine. Give me a sec."

I jumped out of my bed, ruffling my hair in frustration as I moved back to the kitchen. Gray looked up at me with an eyebrow lifted in amusement as he took in my messy hair. He was dressed in a buttoned-down white shirt and khaki trousers, looking hot as hell.

I pointed at my phone. "My grandparents want to talk to you," I whispered to him, setting the call on speaker before sitting on the stool beside him. "Nana, Gramps, you're on speaker."

"Hello," Nana greeted. "What's your name, son?"

Gray glanced up at me as a blush rushed to my cheeks. "It's Gray, ma'am," he said, his eyes still focused on me. "Gray Stanford."

There was a momentary pause at the other end of the line before Gramps spoke in a low voice. "It's nice to meet you, kiddo," he said quietly. "Summy, are you sure you don't want to spend your vacation here with us?"

"I'm certain," I answered.

"You can work with Samantha in HJ—"

"Okay!" I shouted, cutting him off as I grabbed my phone from the counter. "I gotta go since I have class in a while. Talk to you guys soon. Love you!"

I hurriedly ended the call before they could respond, then I turned around slowly to look at Gray with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry about that. They're just worried about me."

"They sound lovely."

Smiling at him, I settled down on my stool. We finished our breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen before heading out. We walked down the walkways to my first class, enjoying the warm, summer breeze.

"I know you said your father keeps you in Brickfields every summer to help out with administrative work, but you're graduating. You should be enjoying your time at the beach or something," I said, keeping my head down to mind my steps.

He chuckled. "I'm graduating, so all the more reason to stay, right?"

I raised my head to look at him and patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck with whatever you have to do. I'll see you later, Nincompoop."

"I'll see you later, Shortcake."

The lecture hall was already half-full when I arrived, which was beyond surprising. I walked down the steps and chose the front row seat, wholeheartedly accepting my fate as a diligent student. As much as I wanted to have a break from essays and case studies, I didn't want to go back to that grief-stricken house, notably since July 02 would be my mother's first death anniversary. I would very much prefer to celebrate that day away from the watchful, worried eyes of those who lived in our house. In silence and by myself.

Richard called me a few days ago, asking when I would be returning to New York. I knew he was worried about me, but he also sounded excited, and I didn't want to ruin that. So, instead of telling him the truth about how I didn't want to go back to New York because even the thought of setting foot inside the house was making me want to curl into a ball and cry, I told him about the summer classes I decided to take to help with my studies.

After that call, I had to repeat the same excuse to my grandparents, who insisted I visit them in South Korea.

I stared at my laptop screen, distracted by my thoughts from my initial goal, which was to read through the summer study guide. Due to my lack of knowledge in equations, the administration suggested I take Accountancy alongside Finance and Statistics. The whole added credits was promising.

I wondered why the majority of the population in the room was female.

"Miss Hale."

I glanced up, my eyes widening upon seeing Gray standing in front of the class. He peered at me with his lips pressed together and eyes twinkling in amusement. Then he glanced back up at the rest of the class with a smile.

"Now that I have everyone's attention," he began, "I would like to thank everyone for coming in time for the lesson. As you all know, I'll be your professor for the week since Mr. Whitehall has other businesses to attend to for the entire term break."

So this was what he meant by 'future references.'

When the three-hour class finished, I remained seated on my spot as the other students exited the room to enjoy the rest of the day frolicking around campus or outside in the city. Gray was leaning against his desk, eyeing me innocently with his arms crossed over his chest, and looking exceptionally dazzling.

"You lied to me!" I bellowed.

"I didn't lie to you," he replied calmly. "I am still doing administrative work. This is just something Mr. Whitehall asked as a favour."

I grabbed my bag and stood from the chair. "Not saying things you should say is also lying. If someone feels deceived, then you lied."

I started climbing up the stairs to fulfill my grand exit. But after a few steps forward, Gray grabbed me by my waist and spun me around, the action causing a wild gasp to escape my lips. Our bodies were pressed up against each other, and he held me in place with one hand on my back while the other lifted my chin.

"Can you, uh, let go of me?" I faltered, my cheeks blushing furiously.

"I'm not letting you go, Shortcake. Every time you walk away from me like this, we don't speak for days."

"You pushed me away the last time."

"And I promised I would try my best. I'm not letting you go until we're okay," he said, the sincerity in his eyes causing my heart to do all sorts of somersaults. He was serious, and I liked it. Holy shit, no. I fucking loved it.

"We are okay," I choked out pathetically. "I was just messing with you. I didn't expect you to, you know, grab me like this."

"You are a terrible liar," he claimed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear before pressing his forehead against mine. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it. I really wanted to see your reaction."

My eyes narrowed. "And was it worth it?

"Oh, definitely." He chuckled deeply and pulled back. "It was worth seeing all the emotions flash in your eyes. But your unawareness is partially your fault. The information about me teaching summer class was in the file about the course."

"Sometimes, I wonder if you wake up every morning and tell yourself that it's another day to annoy me," I grumbled, rubbing my temples to force away the irritation and stupidity combined. He was right; it was partially my fault for not reading the entire seven-page file.

"How did you know that's what I do? Are you stalking me?" he ridiculed.

"You're such a dork, Gray."

A smile tugged at his lips. "And this dork is about to make you a dinner offer, what do you say?"

●      ●      ●

Gray had the whole soccer house to himself, and it was almost weird. The stillness in the air with only Mozart as its humble companion was a stark contrast to the usual noise I was accustomed to. I was used to the amount of singing and profanities yelled in front of the television screen in the game room, the rushing footsteps and boisterous laughter, and the occasional moaning on the second floor.

Gray was making enchiladas in the kitchen, and he was focused on putting chicken into the tortillas. I offered him an extra hand, but he insisted I stayed put since I was a guest. Hence why I was seated on a barstool with my elbows on the island, propping up my chin as I watched him work his way around with ease. I recalled what Liam said about Gray having to learn everything he needed to learn when he was a child. Though the information was there, it was still surprising to see it happen before my eyes.

"I know you want to have your Gordon Ramsay moment, but can we change the music into something more upbeat?" I snickered.

He nodded without even sparing me a glance. I grabbed his phone from across the counter and scrolled through his music playlists until finally deciding on going with Maroon 5. The song, Sugar, blasted through the Bluetooth speakers from the living room, and I bobbed my head to the beat.

Gray remained as still as a robot, unbothered by the change of music. Narrowing my eyes at him, I jumped off the barstool and moved to stand next to him.

"I can help you put them in a glass pan," I offered.

He glanced down at me with an eyebrow raised. "I'm fine, Shortcake."

"Well, your back" — I slammed a hand on his back, just enough for him to jerk and not cough out his lungs — "needs to relax a little bit because you're so stiff. I'm not a food critic, Gray. You need to relax."

"And you need to sit down and make yourself comfortable."

"I'll be much more comfortable helping you."

He didn't answer me and just continued with stuffing the tortillas.

I puffed my cheeks in defeat, then flashed a grin at a thought. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of having Gray Stanford cook dinner for me tonight?"

"Mhmm," he mumbled, keeping his eyes downcast. "I'll only be able to see you during the three-hour class for the rest of the week since I have several things to do. They gave me a two-week schedule, but I squeezed it so I can have it all done by this week."

"So this is an apology dinner?"

"If you put it that way."

"I don't mind if this is an apology dinner or you hinting that you'll miss me," I shrugged, watching as the corner of his lips lifted into a smile. "What I do mind is you trying to have two weeks' worth of work done in one week. Don't strain yourself; you might get sick."

"You don't have to worry about that, Shortcake." He turned to me and lowered his head, bumping his forehead against mine softly.

"What was that for?" I snorted.

"My hands are covered with sauce, and I wanted to caress your hair."

"And so you figured a forehead bump was a good alternative?"

"I was thinking about something else." He lowered his head again and kissed me on the forehead, the gesture sending delicate chills down my spine. "Is that better?" he asked.

"It is better than a forehead bump," I muttered.

He let out a chuckle and went back to stuffing chicken into the tortillas. I returned to my designated chair, rolling my lips to stop the smile from exposing the giddiness bubbling inside me.

I sang through the following songs that played, all the while enjoying the view of Gray cooking. He sang along with me, both of us making instrument sounds as well as backup vocals, and it was the most horrendous tune I have ever heard in my entire existence. We were both comically tone-deaf, but it was amusing to see this other side of Gray.

We decided to eat in the living room, and Gray made me choose a movie to watch while he served the enchiladas in the kitchen. I scrolled through Netflix, undecided, confused, and bashful of the fact that I was going back and forth between the categories Horror and Thriller. Finally, after not much deliberation, I clicked on Dark Shadows.

"I'm beginning to think you're obsessed with vampires," he commented, putting the plates down on the coffee table in front of us.

"I don't know what to watch," I muttered shyly. "We can choose what you want." I handed him the remote, and he went through a series of different movies before picking Happy Death Day 2.

"Have you watched the first one?" he asked, and I nodded.

We watched the movie with several inches of couch between us while we stuffed our faces with the delicious enchiladas.

An hour into the movie, we ended up cuddling on the couch with our legs entwined together under the quilt. I initiated the first move, crawling up to him when I figured he wouldn't do anything. He was more than happy to accept my bold advances, circling his arms around my waist and pressing my back against his chest. The plates and glasses were stacked on the table, and the empty plastic bottle of Coca-Cola was somewhere on the floor. I noted the times he wiggled his toes whenever an intense scene came up, and then I'd glance back at him for that split second and watch his eyes return to their nonchalance after the initial shock.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but when I opened my eyes, Gray was carrying me up the stairs. I nuzzled my face at the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his lavender soap and perfume combined. Then I slipped back into unconsciousness.

As he covered me with the comforter, I opened my eyes halfway to look at him, utterly groggy from being woken up twice in a row.

"When are you taking me to a nice special place?" I asked, which sounded like a string of incoherent slurring to my ears. "We can't keep cuddling, and you can't be this sweet to me if you aren't planning anything, Gray Stanford."

"Why don't you get some sleep first, and we'll talk about it tomorrow?"

"We even kissed twice."

"Do you want one right now?" he joked. "Three time's the charm."

"One kiss on the lips." My eyes narrowed. "Not my forehead. Not my cheek."

Chuckling deeply, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine softly. I inhaled his heady scent that instantly sent my mind reeling with need, and I kissed him deeper. A throaty groan erupted from him as he pulled back slowly.

"You need to sleep, Shortcake," he said, slipping under the covers beside me.

I shut my eyes again, my fingers clutching onto his shirt. I was slipping back into unconsciousness, but my brain was desperate to stay awake to say something. After seconds of gathering my thoughts, I muttered, "Stay with me?"

"Always," he promised. "Always."