Toxic Girl

Chapter Twenty-Two

Two weeks have passed since I last spoke to Grayson. I don’t answer his calls. I sit in a different seat in the classes we share, and I avoid him as much as I can. The few times he’s tried to talk to me or showed up at my house, I’ve excused myself or not answered the door. It’s been hell, and I’ve been walking around and living life on auto pilot. London got a place of her own, about five minutes away from my house. She’s getting on her feet and working on being independent, and I couldn’t be happier for her. She’s still selfish and self-involved, but I guess I should take whatever improvement I can get from her and not push my luck. She isn’t going to become a better person overnight; that’s for damn sure. After work, I get Aiden to drop me off at Grayson’s. I don’t know what I’m doing, but shutting him out has been hurting both of us, and I’ve had enough. I’m confused, and I don’t know what the hell to do to get over this.

“Thanks Aiden,” I tell him, kissing him on the cheek.

“No problem. You can call me anytime you know that, right?”

“I appreciate that. Best boss ever,” I tell him, sliding out of the car and closing the door. I wave bye as I turn around and walk to the house. Grayson’s car is out front, so I know he’s at home. I have a key of his but I feel weird using it after not talking to him all this time and not knowing where we stand as a couple. I knock on the door, and fidget with my hair as I wait for him to answer. He opens the door, standing there, looking surprised.

“Paris,” he says, his gaze trailing over me from head to toe.

“Hey, I thought maybe we could talk?” I say, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“I’d love that,” he says. “I do have to tell you that…”

“Grayson! Hurry up!” someone calls from inside the house. My eyes widen as I recognise the voice. Fuck. This.

“Wow,” I say, in shock.

“It’s not what you think,” Grayson quickly says, reaching out to take hold of my elbow. I wrench my arm away from him and take a step back, retreating away from his house. I pull out my phone and call Aiden.

“Hello.”

“Can you come back and pick me up? Please?” I beg him.

“Of course, give me a minute.”

We hang up. I walk to the driveway and stand there, scanning the streets for my escape. Grayson stands next to me.

“Paris, listen to me!” he growls. “Can you give me one minute to explain?”

I shake my head, sighing in relief as Aiden’s car pulls up. Grayson takes my arm again, but I pull free and jump into the passenger’s side.

“Drive, please,” I tell him, as Grayson stands by my window. I lock the door before he can try opening it. Then I stare at him as he calls out my name over and over again, his eyes pleading with mine.

But what did he expect when he had my sister at his house?

An hour passes before the banging starts on my door.

“London’s here!” Anaya calls out. I make a scoffing noise and continue to type furiously on my laptop. My room door opens and London walks in, wearing a scowl.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that!” she snaps.

“Excuse me?” I growl back.

“I know I slept with him before you knew him, but what kind of person do you think I am to sleep with him now?”

“The kind of person that lets her sister strip to pay her debts?” I say in a fake sweet tone.

She gasps. “I guess I deserved that. Okay, I definitely deserved that. But even if you don’t trust me, do you really think Grayson would do that to you? The guy is pathetic over you! Between you and me, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been eating or sleeping. Maybe not even showering either.”

“Then why the hell were you there? And how often have you seen him?”

She sits down on my bed. “Today is the first time I’ve seen him, I swear.”

“Explain,” I demand.

She sighs, and looks at me, cringing a little. “You might get angry.”

“Speak, London, before I murder you with my bare hands.”

“Whoa. Feisty. Today I got a call from Grayson. He wanted to know Trevor’s details so he could pay off the debt. He picked me up from my place and we went to his, got on the computer, and transferred all the money to him. Then he called and spoke to Trevor, making sure he was going to leave us alone.”

“He paid the debt?” I ask, blinking slowly.

“Yes. So that’s why I was there. Trust me, Grayson doesn’t want me, or anyone else,” she says, lying back on my bed and making herself comfortable.

“Well, shit,” I say. Looks like I have some apologizing to do. “I’ll go over and talk to him tomorrow.”

“No need,” she says, smirking. “He’s in the car waiting for you.”

I turn to stare at her.

“What? How else do you think I got here?”

Ignoring her, I get up and walk to the front door, and then outside. As London said, Grayson is sitting in his car, staring down at something, his phone I think. He lifts his head when I open the passenger’s door.

“Hey,” I say, closing the door after me. “I’m sorry about before.”

“If you would have let me talk…”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I repeat.

He starts the car. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“My house,” he says. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I stare at his handsome profile as he drives. He looks the same, albeit a little scruffier, but it looks good on him. Then again, I think anything looks good on him.

I stare out the window, trying to organise my thoughts. The ride is silent, so I turn on the radio. Grayson reaches out and hesitantly puts his hand on my thigh, giving it a little squeeze before removing it.

When we enter his house, I take a seat and gently bite my lip, wondering what to say; how to explain myself.

“I hope you weren’t mad at your sister. I brought her here because she doesn’t have a laptop,” he says, leaning his elbows in his thighs.

I clear my throat. “She explained it to me. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

“It’s okay,” he says.

“Thank you for dealing with Trevor. No one has really taken care of me before, and I really appreciate it, Gray.”

“It was nothing. Don’t mention it,” he says, leaning back against the couch.

“It wasn’t nothing. That was a lot of money, and I promise you, I will figure out a way to pay you back,” I tell him, clasping my hands together.

“Paris,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t want the money back. I don’t give a shit about money—I just want you. I want you to forgive me, and I want us to start over.”

“It’s not that easy, is it?” I whisper.

“It is to me. I love you—no matter what. My first priority is you. I don’t want to be without you anymore. It’s not an option,” he says, misery etched on his face.

“Grayson,” I sigh.

“I fell in love with you after I found out the truth. I know you’re upset, but listen to me; London and I only had one night together. I wasn’t in love with her, or anything like that. I fell in love with you, Paris. I fell in love with you after I knew the truth.”

I think about what he’s saying. I get that he fell for me. He and London didn’t even talk to each other; they just had sex. Something about her must have drawn him back since he wanted more though. Am I overthinking this? He did tell me he loved me after he found out the truth, but it still hurts. I know he loves me. He hasn’t even looked twice at London in that way.

“What was going through your mind when you left?” I ask, needed to know this.

“I guess I was wondering if it would be easier to end things like that, than explain myself,” he says.

I’m not going to lie, that hurts. However I’m glad that he told me the truth. The truth can hurt but lies do more damage.

“I will give you time, if that’s what you need. But please don’t shut me out or stop me from seeing you. We can go slowly, build up the trust between us again. I’m fighting, Paris. I’m fucking fighting here, and I need you to fight with me,” he says, gripping the ends of his hair in frustration.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly parched. “Trust isn’t going to come easy.”

“I know, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Are you?” he asks, drawing me onto his lap and circling me in his arms. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you? It felt like I was missing a fucking limb or something. What have you done to me?”

I lay my head back on his shoulder. “Why does love hurt so much?”

“I guess anything worth something doesn’t come without a price,” he says into my neck, kissing me there. His hands wander lower.

“I thought we were taking it slow?” I admonish, gently slapping his hand away.

“Ouch,” he says, chuckling. “Slow it is. Guess I’ll be having a cold shower after this.”

I scoff. “Trying to guilt trip me, are you?”

He starts laughing, his head thrown back in abandonment. “No, babe. Let’s do this the right way. From the beginning. In fact, would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

I pretend to consider it. “I guess so,” I say with a straight face.

“You guess so, huh?” he repeats, tickling me under my ribs.

“No!” I gasp. “Don’t tickle me.”

He stops and turns my face to the side, drawing my lips in a scorching hot kiss. His soft lips demonstrate exactly what I’ve been missing out on, his tongue demanding as it plays with mine. When he pulls away from me, I’m more than willing to screw going slow and to take things straight back to the bedroom. I tell him so. He laughs at me, shaking his head no, but his eyes say something completely different. His eyes are dark, lids at half-mast and giving away how much he wants me. So does his hardness. I stand up and offer him my hand.

“Babe,” he says, lip twitching.

“What?” I ask innocently, batting my eyelashes.

“You just want me because now I’m unattainable,” he says in a mock high pitch voice.

My body shakes with silent laughter. Damn, it feels so good to laugh. “You’re never unattainable to me, Mr Mills.”

He raises a brow. “Is that so?” He runs his hand down the side of my body, touching over the side of my breast and down to my hip. My breath hitches, and a knowing smirk plays on the corners of his lips.

“I better take you home,” he mutters, smiling down at me.

“Or,” I say, dragging out the word.

“Or what?”

“Or you could take me into your room and put me to work,” I say, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

He groans. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He lifts me into his arms, and just when I’m about to cheer and think I’m winning, he carries me outside and to the car.

“Slow,” he says when he puts me down.

I sigh heavily and nod. Guess we’re taking things slow.