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A laugh bubbles out of me, feeling so fucking happy for the first time in days. “Gotta rip the Band-Aid off.”
He doesn’t look convinced as my parents round the corner, their eyes flicking down to our interlocked hands.
“You’re home early,” my dad says, and I bob my head.
“Just grabbing some stuff. Gonna stay with Grey for a bit.”
My mom’s eyes widen in surprise, but then she schools her face and nods. “Of course.”
I can tell they’re curious, but they won’t ask. Their whole premise for parenting has been to let me do my thing. I kind of wish they’d take more of an interest, to be honest. But whatever. As long as they’re not giving me hell for this, I’m fine with it. Don’t want any reason for Grey to pull away. I want to give him zero excuses.
“Nice to see you both again,” Grey says, trying to pull his hand from mine, but I hold the fuck on. Like hell he’s taking that away from me. I’m sticking.
“Likewise,” my dad says and then slaps him roughly on the shoulder. “Take care of my boy, yeah?”
Grey stands a little taller and nods as I roll my eyes. Like they really care. I mean, yeah, I guess they do in their own way, but like, no need to put on a show, guys.
“Come on,” I say, tugging Grey down the short hallway and into my room.
“Keep the door open,” my dad calls out, trying to be funny, but Grey is wilting at the suggestion.
“Ignore him. He thinks he’s a comedian,” I say as I shut the bedroom door.
Grey looks unsure as I lock it.
“He was joking, for real. Relax.”
Grey lets out a huff and looks around the space.
It’s telling, a peek into my soul. My drawings are taped across one wall and some of my sculptures line the floor and shelves. My bed is unmade and my clothes are all stuffed into a hamper in the corner. Hmm, should probably get on that. I think my drawers are practically empty.
“Can I do some laundry at your place?” I ask and Grey nods as I grab a duffle bag from the closet and start stuffing it with stuff I need for the week.
“Yeah, of course.”
As I pack he walks around the room, taking it all in, and I try like hell to focus, but my eyes are on his ass.
“I’ve had all sorts of fantasies about you in this room,” I say suddenly, and Grey stumbles slightly.
“Shh,” he says, trying to hush me, but my mouth won’t be stopped. It’s loose now.
“Don’t shush me,” I say with a smirk, and Grey flushes.
“Never did that before…sorry, just…” he sweeps his hand toward the door. “Your parents areright outside.”
“They are not. They are back in front of the TV. They couldn’t care less what we are doing in here.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but I’m not lying. They really don’t care what I do.
“Come on, loosen up, Grey. Fulfill a fantasy for me.”
He eyes me and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “What’s this fantasy?” he whispers.
“Oh, now you wanna know,” I tease and then let my hands fall from my duffle bag, and I run my hands up my stomach, my shirt riding up as I do it. Grey notices. He fucking sees. His eyes snap to the movement, to the exposed skin I’m showing him. His pupils dilate and his cheeks flush a little darker, and I know he wants to do it—wants to help me make my dreams come true.
“Wanna be bad with me, Grey?” I ask, and he swallows. “Remember, I have a lock on my door. I needed one for all those times I sat in here at night and jacked off to thoughts of you.”
“Fuck,” he murmurs, and I let my shirt drop, taking a step closer to him.
