He sighs. “You’ve been demanding a lot of things with ‘no questions asked’ this semester, Em. Eventually, you’re going to have to tell us who he is.”
My eyes widen for a fraction of a second. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” Levi leans over to where the coats are and hands me my brown, fluffy jacket. “A year ago, you pressured Kamila into telling us about Cameron. Last semester, you gave me advice about Stevie and were part of our wedding party. You and Jake hang out without us, just like Kami and I do. You have no reason not to tell us. You need to get over this fear of not talking about your personal life with anyone, at least with your closest friends who won’t judge you.”
My head shakes at his words. “You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get, Ems?” He looks at me with pleading eyes.
“I trust you guys with my life, but my love life is a different story. I’ve always been unlucky in the romance department, so I’m not the best role model. I’ve only ever wanted you guys to be happy with your partners, and telling you my boring, sad stories might make you see me differently. I’ve never wanted to take attention away from your amazing love stories by sharing my depressing ones.” My jaw drops at the first time I tell any of them that. I take a step back. “I gotta go.”
“Emma, wait!” he yells, stepping out of the room, but I don’t stop running until I reach the edge of the sidewalk and see Grayson’s pickup truck at the end of the block, away from any prying eyes.
I jog to his car, Levi’s words filtering through my mind, and my response back. I know I’ll get shit for it tomorrow at the soup kitchen.
“Crap,” I mutter to myself before reaching the passenger door of Grayson’s truck and opening it. He looks at me—messyhair, glasses, a smirk on his lips, and one leg already out of the door to help me get in.
I smile at him before a wave of nausea hits me, and I turn around just in time to throw up on the sidewalk.
“Fuck,” I hear him say as a second wave hits me. Hands wrap around my hair, pulling it up when the final wave hits.
“Grayson, I’m sorry.”
Then I feel myself falling, eyes shutting, everything fading to black.
Chapter Thirty-One
EMMA
Someone’s calling my name.
Is it Kamila? Did she drag me home from the party last night?
“You have to wake up, Princess.”
The voice comes in clearer this time, deeper and more masculine. Also, Kami would never call me Princess.
Calloused fingers brush my face, and I slowly open my eyes, quickly blocking out the sunlight that’s hitting my face. My head is pounding.
“Fuck. It’s so bright in here.” My eyes adjust to the light as I see Grayson sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling down at me. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he says gently.
I stretch my arms out and look up at the wooden ceiling. I do a double take.
Wooden ceiling, light blue walls, queen-sized bed, Grayson.
I shoot up from the bed and glance down at the unfamiliar oversized shirt I’m wearing.
“Am I in your house?” I squeal, making my head hurt more.
“Technically, it’s a rental, for now anyway, but yes.”
Rubbing my temples, I try to remember what happened lastnight, but my memory gets hazy around the time I called Grayson in the bathroom. I lift the sheet to check if I still have underwear or pants on and see that I’m wearing large sweatpants.
Looking up at Grayson, I raise an eyebrow. “Did we…?” I let the question hang in the air.
He laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong, you wanted to, but you also wanted to take a shower and run around the place wet and naked.”
