The thought of Savannah being with any guy puts an uneasy feeling in my stomach. There was a point in time where she belonged to me, and swore it would stay that way. Now, she’s anything but mine.
I know I shouldn’t want her. It’s bad enough that I’m here. To even be friends with her again would be a completely betrayal to my dad and not something I’m interested in. So, I force away the feelings that come alive when she’s near and chalk them up to teenage hormones and nostalgia.
THE COACH HAS US running drills and practicing our throws. Personally, I liked practice better when Carter was in charge. All he did was had us scrimmage for a couple hours and run some plays out of the book. Today, however, we’re under different authority—which means drills.
Running back and forth across the field is annoying, but nothing is worse than seeing the entire team basically undress Savannah with their eyes. A few of them don’t even try to hide it, whistling at her as she bends over to stretch. I clench my fist when I hear it, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have to keep from pounding their faces into the ground.
“All right. Shirts versus skins,” Coach announces. “We’re going to run plays for the next half hour.”
He calls out names to be on the skins’ team, including myself, Jace, and Wyatt—so we pull our shirts off and toss them onto the sidelines. We call tails on the coin toss, getting the ball first. As I listen to Coach tell me the play, I’m having trouble focusing. Savannah is on the sidelines, wearing her booty shorts and a tight-fitting tank top. It leaves practically nothing to the imagination, and I’m drowning in the thoughts of her skin and curves.
“Hayworth!” Coach yells in my face. “Get your damn head in the game!”
I roll my eyes as I jog over to the guys. After I repeat the play, we get into formation. I receive the ball from Wyatt and throw it down the field to Peyton. No part of me cares to watch how it plays out. I’m too focused on Savannah.
It’s as if I can still feel the softness of her skin. The way her body fit against mine as I had her pressed up against the locker. If she was able to feel my heart racing in that moment, it would have given everything away—but God, she felt so damn good against me.
It isn’t until Wyatt steps up beside me that I even acknowledge there are other people around.
“Don’t even think about it, man. You’re wasting your time,” he tells me.
I don’t turn away. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Savannah. I see the way you’re looking at her, but trust me. You don’t have a chance. She only dates college guys. Specifically, ones named Brady Laurence.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You’ve got me all wrong, man. I don’t want a chance with her.”
“Dude, do you see her? She’s the hottest girl in school,” he deadpans, letting his eyes drift over to Sav. “Everyone wants one.”
A mumbled groan of obscenities leaves my mouth as I walk away from him and down the field. It’s hard enough to deal with the fact that I’m feeling things for her I shouldn’t. Hell, every part of me should hate her with a burning passion, and most of me does. But there is still part of me that wants to throw myself at her feet and give her everything she’s ever wanted. I need to get this shit under control before it ruins me—before she ruins me. Again.
I PULL UP TO my house, wanting nothing more than to go inside, take a shower, and climb into my bed. However, fate must have other plans for me, because just as I’m about to get out of my car, Justin walks out the front door. Every bit of frustration that has built up over the past few days boils inside of me. Slamming my car door shut, I storm up to him until I’m right up in his face.
“The fuck are you doing here? Didn’t I tell your ass to stay away from her?” I don’t budge as he tries to push me back a little.
“Your mother is a big girl. She can make her own choices.”
I growl, ready to hit the prick. “Like hell she can. She proved that shit wrong when I had to knock your ass out as you tried to strangle her to death.”
The smirk that graces his face tells me he would do it again if given the chance. “Yeah, well, clearly she doesn’t quite mind a little breath play. Your mom is quite the freak.”
Without letting him get another word out, I swing my fist right into the side of his face, immediately knocking him off balance. “Don’t ever fucking talk to me about her like that again! Do you hear me?”
“Watch it, Grayson.” He stretches out his jaw. “You’re eighteen now. There is nothing to keep me from kicking your ass.”
I step toward him, once again leaving him with no personal space. “I’d love to see you try.”
The door opens and my mother stands there, wide eyed and panicked. “What the hell is going on out here?”
My hand pushes Justin down onto the lower step. “I’m just telling this prick to stay the fuck away from places he doesn’t belong.”
“Grayson!” She hisses.
“What? You know what—I’ll make this real fucking easy for you. It’s him or me, because I’m not just going to sit here and play happy family with him until he decides to try his hand at attempted murder again.”
My mom glances between him and me, not saying a word. When I realize she isn’t going to answer, I shake my head.
“Un-fucking-believable.”
Ignoring the calls of my name, I get back into my car. My tires squeal against the pavement as I peel out of the driveway. That answer should be one of the simplest decisions of her life. What kind of mother would hesitate when needing to choose between her son or the man who almost took her life? All I know for sure, is that my father would be disgusted with who she’s become.
I’M DRIVING AROUND, TRYING to kill time and calm down before I go back home. Since we moved back, I haven’t really gotten a chance to look around this place. So much has changed from what I remember. The restaurants have all either closed down or been renovated. The stores I remember going to have all been replaced, except for the big department stores. Even the playground I used to love has been torn down. It’s just another harsh reminder that nothing in my life will ever be the same as it was.
As I pull down Main Street, a familiar Cadillac catches my eye. The same Haven Grace Prep sticker sits in the back window, making me sure it’s his car. Savannah’s boyfriend. Even thinking about him enrages me. She was supposed to be mine. She and I stood there in that stupid treehouse and promised that when we were old enough, we would get married. We may have only been nine at the time, but I’ve never meant something more in my life. And then she went and ruined it.
I park my car and get out. It only takes a second before my eyes land on her. She’s moving gracefully across a dance studio floor. I lean against the hood and watch her through the large window. The way she throws herself into every movement, telling a story using only her body—it’s mesmerizing. She lifts her leg as she spins, completing so many rotations I’m getting dizzy just watching her, but she doesn’t seem to falter at all. She continues to move in ways that make me imagine myself pressed against her as her ass grinds into me, touching all the right places.