His mask was on his face, and he was in shadow, but I could almost hear his eye roll. “I’ll give you a clue. Your fucking surname and number written on the back of your jersey. Unless you have a clone I don’t know about?—”
I pushed past him, not caring at that moment if I seemed rude, because fuck.
This was my warning.
Happy Halloween, Grayson.
I made it to the door that opened onto the yard, Cruz and Micah right on my heels, when we heard the first scream.
Then another, and another, and our lives went to hell.
The rest of the night had been a blur of cops invading our house, questioning everyone, shaken and crying students, all the while I tried to hold it together on the outside when inside I was being ripped apart.
Nothing could bring her back from the dead.
The funeral service was short, which I was grateful for. No one wanted to drag out such a tragic event. There was an air of disbelief over us all, that a student’s life could be cut short so fucking tragically.
When the pastor announced we could step forward and pay our respects, Micah gasped next to me, his eyes glistening. “I can’t do this,” he whispered, and he made a break for it as everyone was standing, running for the building that housed the crematorium. He disappeared into the bushes around the side of it, out of sight in seconds, and I swore under my breath. He shouldn’t be alone. Not today. Not like this.
“Grayson. How are you holding up?” Coach Pierce turned to face me before I could go after Micah, and I swore again, too quietly for him to hear.
“As well as can be expected,” I said.
“Such a tragedy. She had such a bright future ahead of her.” He shook his head, tutting quietly. “A senseless tragedy.” His expression morphed into one of disapproval as he peered around me. “Where’s Micah? Couldn’t he have waited to leave? That boy has no respect.”
“Uh. No. He had to take some photos for the article they’re doing on the school website,” I said, thinking fast.
“Hmm.” Thankfully, one of the other faculty members leaned over, stealing Coach’s attention, and I used the opportunity to make my escape. I didn’t bother coming up with excuses for myteammates. I was too fucking out of my mind to even think of any, and so I took off in the direction Micah had gone without a backward look.
“Micah?” I pushed through the undergrowth, impatiently swatting away the branches that were catching on my suit jacket. “Micah? Where are you?”
“Here,” came the quiet voice, and I rounded the corner to find him in a small clearing, slumped against the wall of the building with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. His head was tilted upward and his eyes were closed, but I saw the tear tracks on his face.
Something inside me fucking broke. I strode over to him, gripping his chin, his freshly shaven skin smooth beneath my fingertips. At my touch, his eyes flew open, wide and troubled, still shining with the remnants of his tears.
“Gray,” he whispered, and my name was a plea on his lips.
“Yeah,” I said hoarsely, and then we were kissing. It was hard, it was fucking desperate, and it was filled with everything we couldn’t say. We poured everything into it, both of us holding on like we were each other’s port in this storm we’d found ourselves in, an anchor to stop ourselves from going out of our minds.
“Fuck, Gray,” he choked out, tearing his mouth from mine. Then he lunged forward, kissing me again. “Make me forget. I need to fucking forget that night. I know you don’t want me like that, but I need?—”
“I know.” I did. I was completely out of my depth, but what was new? My life had already been turned upside down, and discovering that I not only wanted to kiss Micah again, but my dick was rock hard in my pants…I would’ve had a freak-out even just a week ago, but ever since Halloween…
He exhaled unsteadily. “I don’t fucking care if it’s wrong or right. Ineedyou. I feel like I’m falling apart.”
We wanted the same thing. Comfort. A warm, breathing, alive body against ours, reminding us we weren’t alone. Silencing our fears for a moment, allowing our minds to focus on pleasure instead of pain and blinding fear. There was truth to what people said, that funerals made you horny. I wanted release, fucking craved it. I wasn’t a mind reader, but I knew Micah did too. There was no one else here. No one else who understood what we were going through. Just me, and him.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted, rocking my hips forward and feeling his equally hard dick against my thigh. He groaned and pulled me into him, giving my erection some friction against his thigh, and this time it was my turn to groan. Threesomes were one thing, but I’d never actually done anything sexually with a guy. I’d have to rely on my instincts to get us through this.
Although…maybe Micah had experience with guys. He’d kissed Cruz, after all.
“D-do you know what you’re doing?” I panted in between grinding against him and kissing over his jaw and down his throat.
“No. Feels so good.” Fuck, he soundedwrecked. It was so fucking hot.
I kissed him again, my tongue sliding into his mouth, and then it was all hot, messy, wet kisses as we ground roughly against each other.
“Fuck,” I groaned into his mouth, and he stiffened against me, gasping as his climax hit.
