Page 27 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 2

He texted again when he was near campus, so I snuck out of the house. I heard some grunts coming from Beckett’s room and decided not to think about it. Sawyer had told me that this thing with him and Caden had been going on since our trip to Milwaukee and I couldn’t believe nobody had noticed anything before.

I waited for a royal carriage or a mile-long limo to appear on campus, but when a regular, sporty BMW from five or six years ago halted in front of our team house, relief and surprise mixed inside of me. The passenger window slid down and behind the wheel was Grayson, smiling like he was the happiest man on the planet. “Hop in.”

And I did. “What’s this? You rented a car?”

“It’s mine,” Grayson said, waving it off. “I prefer walking when I can, but it would take us until tomorrow to get there.”

“But…” I looked into his eyes. “You had a limo drive us to the lake.”

His lips stretched against visible efforts to contain the smile. “I was trying to impress you.”

I blinked, then licked my lips. The need to feel him close to me was so abrupt and strong that I didn’t wait for any cue. I leaned in and took the kiss I wanted. My lips on his, his cologne in my nostrils, and his hand on the back of my head; I kissed him for a long moment, feeling the sensation spill all throughout my body.

I was so ready for him.

When I pulled back, Grayson grinned and turned his head forward before getting the car moving. “Where are we going, then?”

“Oh, Avery, if you think I’m going to tell you, you haven’t met me yet.” He laughed joyfully.

I shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

“Just relax, pretty boy,” he said. “You won’t regret it.”

I buckled my seatbelt and felt the heat rising to my face at being called a pretty boy. He had such a casual attitude that it calmed me down. Not that I was nervous. It wasn’t exactly that. I was antsy, maybe. I wanted this to go well. I wanted all his effort so far to pay off. I wanted him to wake up tomorrow morning and thank all the gods that he’d taken the chance on me.

Maybe it was a lot to pull off in one night.

Freddy Mercury’s best hits played from the speakers and Grayson hummed to each tune. The shortening days meant we were running out of daylight before we arrived wherever he was taking us. We talked, although not at any particular lengths. He said he couldn’t wait to see my face when we got there. It only added another ounce of dread, but I pushed that aside and waited.

Grayson was someone who could chat idly without getting tired, but when he was silent, it was never the awkward silence of one who had nothing to say. I wasn’t gifted with the same talent, but I could listen. So he told me about growing up, being spoiled rotten as a kid, and feeling like an outcast as a teenager. He told me about the guilt that was wired into him when he was younger and all the years it had taken him to get rid of it. “I feel like a normal person now,” he said. “I really do. The worst is behind me.”

“I’m glad about that,” I said honestly. “You are normal.”

He glanced at me shortly before returning his gaze to the highway. “I’m glad I didn’t really meet you last year. I was a mess, acting out, living the fantasies I’d suppressed in my teen years.”

I couldn’t relate to the feeling, but I understood what he meant.

“I don’t think you would have liked me,” Grayson said flatly. “I didn’t like myself.”

“You’re not the same person, Gray,” I said.

He grinned.

“What?”

He glanced at me twice in rapid succession. “You called me Gray.”

“So?” I asked, but I knew. I felt it, too. It was hard not to be aware of our proximity. It was like every time I saw him, some invisible cord between us grew stronger and thicker.

“I like it,” he said.

We sat in comfortable silence for a time. Gray liked me calling him Gray and it made my heart jitter to know that. The music branched out to other classic hits, all of which I knew and all of which Gray could match with his humming and occasional whisper-singing.

As the night completely overtook the day, Gray left the highway behind us and drove up a winding road into the mountains.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d be worried,” I said as we curved around a bend. The only light came from the car’s headlights, but it didn’t reach far. We were deep in a pine forest, climbing higher and higher with each curve.

“Oh? And what do you think you know?” he asked jokingly.