“It’s because of how you kissed,” I blurted, heat rising up the back of my neck.
Hendrix looked at me like I’d lost the plot entirely. He opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it closed, stalking past me and into the living room. It felt disingenuous to go after him when he was basically only doing what I’d told him he needed to do in the first place. So I let him go, but he stopped at the front door with his hand on the knob and his back to me.
“How did I kiss, Miles?”
The question was soft. I could barely hear it over the thunderous crashing of my own heart against my chest.
“Really well,” I answered.
Hendrix looked over his shoulder, eyes scanning my face to see if I was telling the truth. I didn’t know what he found. All I knew was how I felt.
“How did I kiss, Miles?” he asked again.
Shit.
The way he said my name was addicting. Was that the reason he’d told me not to use his? Did he just like it too much? Because I really liked hearing my name inhismouth, even if it sounded like he’d wrapped it in disdain and disappointment.
“Better than I deserved.”
His cheek hollowed on one side and he nodded, expression falling into something flat and almost bored. He didn’t respond to that. He just let himself out of the house as quietly as possible. The door latched closed and my shoulders fell, a rush of breath leaving my lungs as soon as he’d gone.
“Better than I deserved!” Grayson shouted from the hallway.
I scrubbed a hand down my face and turned on my heel, shuffling down the hallway to his bedroom. The door was open and he lay on his bed, hands folded together behind his head. He gave me a dubious look when I stepped inside, then looked back up at his ceiling when I sat down on the edge of his bed.
“Better than I deserved,” I said again.
“What does that even mean?”
“He’s too good for me is what it means.”
“For someone who has such a high opinion of himself most of the time, you really are a self-loathing motherfucker.” He stretched his leg out and kicked me in the thigh.
“He had boyfriend material written all over him.”
“What doesthateven mean?” Grayson scooted himself into a sitting position, then threw his pillow directly at my head.
“He was not a fuck and run.”
“Okay.”
“I am.” I gestured vaguely with my hand. The explanation should have been enough. Grayson knew me too well to expect anything different from me besides who I was.
“You’re an idiot is what you are.”
“I know.”
“You’re going to be alone forever.”
“I know.”
“Why are you punishing yourself?”
I swallowed, clutching his pillow against my chest. “I’m not.”
“Miles.”
“Stop.” I flung the pillow back at him and jumped off the bed. “We aren’t having this conversation.”
