Never Have I Ever – A College Romance Book (Campus Games 1)

Grayson

I can’t sleep.

I can’t shut my brain off for five fucking minutes.

My uncle, or who I thought was my uncle, was actually my father. And he’s dead.

The urge to escape has never been bigger. I don’t even know if I still have access to the trust or not. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I practically have no family, no one to turn to, and no money.

The shit I sell around campus isn’t much, especially when some people don’t pay up what they owe. What I have saved up is nowhere near enough to move as far away from here as possible and open up my own garage.

And I can’t even count on the trust fund to get me out of here anymore. My golden ticket to freedom has been taken away from me. So, what do I do now? Do I keep attending school, hoping for an opportunity where Mattie lets me work for him once I graduate? Or do I leave with the money I have and do… what am I going to do?

I thought I had everything set up. Graduate, get money, leave. But now all of that is gone, thrown out the window.

Fuck. I just want to sleep. I want to forget about this and close my eyes. But I can’t. I twist and turn in my cold ass bed, wanting to grab onto Rosie, but she’s not here.

She hasn’t answered my texts since she left the other day, and I don’t know what to make of it. Is she done with me? Is this over? I knew it had to happen eventually, but not now. I’m not ready. I fucking need her.

Fuck this. I can’t stay here any longer. I’m going to burst a vein if I keep thinking about it. I pick up my phone, swiping away the texts from my old hookups. I don’t want any of them. I want a blonde with blue eyes and a sexy mole on her upper lip. I want my angel.

I open our texts, groaning at the absurd amount of unanswered texts I sent to her. I send another text and stare at the screen, anticipating her reply, or at least three dots, just anything, really. I need to know she’s not done with me.

But there’s nothing, of course. I’m not going to let her ghost me. If she wants this to be over, then she needs to say it to my face. I can’t handle not knowing where we stand. And I don’t want to let her go, not just yet. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to end this between us, but I know it’s not now.

I throw on my jeans and a clean shirt and head out of my room. I race down the stairs, halting when I see a sleepy Aiden standing in the kitchen.

“Where the hell are you going? It’s two in the morning,” he grunts, filling up a cup with water.

I shrug. “For a drive.”

“You going to see Rosie?” he asks.

“What?” I laugh, trying to sound like I don’t know what he’s talking about. Is it obvious that I’m lying? It must be because he turns around and raises his eyebrow at me, clearly seeing through my bullshit.

I don’t appease him, though. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I tell him, hoping he’ll drop it.

He scoffs. “I heard you. She screamed your name so loud, I thought you were dying.”

I close my eyes. Fuck. “You heard?” The day I brought Rosie home, I didn’t know if Aiden had been there, and I hadn’t cared. My mind was filled with Rosie and nothing else.

He grins, nodding. “You call her angel. That’s cute.”

I groan, running a hand down my face. For fucks sake.

“What happened to ‘I can control myself?’ I knew that was bullshit.”

I choke out a laugh. “Fuck you.” Yeah, I was full of shit when I said that to him. I thought I could, but I was only fighting with myself. That girl had me from the very beginning. I knew I couldn’t hold back if she kept asking and begging me so sweetly. I was fucking putty in her hands.

He shakes his head, sighing. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t need you telling me to stay away from her. You’re not my dad,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

He shrugs. “Not sure about that. I get called daddy pretty often.”

I snort out a laugh, wiping a hand down my face. I’m too tired for this shit. “It’s fine. I’ve got it under control.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Heard that last time.”

I sigh. “Are you going to keep grilling me, or can I leave?”

He grins. “Yes, son. You can go.”

I scoff, not bothering to reply to him, and head out of the house.

What will she do when I get there? Will she kick me out and say we’re done? I’m not ready for that. Maybe I should head back home. Maybe living in denial is better. I don’t have to acknowledge that she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

I pull up to her apartment, sit in my car, and stare up at her building. She’s probably asleep. I don’t want to wake her, but I need her so much right now.

Maybe it’s just a psychological effect of quitting smoking. I traded one addiction for another, but right now, I need a hit of the feeling I get when Rosie smiles at me or looks at me or whenever she’s near me.

I need to smell that sweet perfume she wears. I need to taste those strawberry lips. I just need her.

I head inside, sighing when I see Sergio the Grouch at the concierge again. I ignore him and make my way to her apartment.

I stand in front of her door for minutes, which seems to drag on. I don’t know what to expect when she opens up the door. I want her to smile and pull me in for a kiss.

I knock, hearing shuffling on the other side of the door. She opens the door, and I let out a breath of relief at the sight of her in front of me. Jesus. What has she done to me? It’s like I can’t breathe when she isn’t near. I don’t even know how to function without her anymore. What the hell is this?

“Rosie.” I husk out, but I don’t know what the hell to say next. She’s standing in front of me, looking absolutely beautiful. She’s in those cute little pajamas. Her hair flows down her back, and she doesn’t have a speck of makeup on her gorgeous face. Her mole is on full show. But she’s frowning. I didn’t know what I’d expect, but it wasn’t this.

She doesn’t look happy to see me at all. Her brows are drawn together as if she’s confused, and a slight frown is on her face. I want to wipe it off and replace it with one of those addicting smiles instead. I want her to smile at me.

“Grayson?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh…” I mumble, running a hand through my hair. “I came to see you.”

“You did?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

I nod. “Yeah, you didn’t answer my texts.”

She shakes her head, and I deflate. This is it. This is when she’ll tell me we’re done and she never wants to see me again. Fuck, I knew I should have stayed home.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” she says.

“What?”

She wipes her eyes. “The other day. I told you I would leave if you wanted me to. I thought that’s what you wanted?”

“What?” I say again, shaking my head. “Rosie, I never wanted you to leave. I told you that stuff because I wanted to. Because I trust you. Because I didn’t want you to leave.”

“You don’t?” she asks, widening her eyes.

I shake my head, taking a step closer to her. “Angel,” I whisper, cradling her gorgeous face. “I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking you were done with me.” She gasps a little as I run my thumb over her plump, pink lower lip. “Are you done with me?” I ask her. God, I want to kiss her.

Her lips are parted by my thumb. She looks up at me with those baby blue’s staring into my soul. She looks like a dream. She shakes her head, and I grin, lowering my head and planting a soft kiss on those full lips of hers.

She melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I pick her up, holding her ass in my hands and wrapping her legs around my waist. I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed her so much. I shut the door with my foot and head to her bed.

I sit her on the bed, trailing kisses down her neck. I start to lift her tank as she lets out a yawn. Fuck, I’m such an asshole. She’s tired. She needs sleep, and I’m fucked up out of my mind wanting to forget everything and be with her.

I stop myself and lay her back down on the bed, propping her head on a pillow. I lower my head and press my lips to her forehead. “You’re tired. I shouldn’t have come here.”

“You don’t have to leave,” she says, yawning again.

I let my eyes drift closed. I don’t want to leave. Ever. “Lie down, Rosie.”

She lies her head on the pillow, and I strip off my clothes, getting into bed beside her. I brush her hair away from her face, and she turns to face me. “Are you going to leave?” she asks, sounding a little sad.

I couldn’t leave this bed for all the money in the world. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. “No, Rosie. I’m not going anywhere,” I say, pulling her into me and my shoulders relax the moment she wraps her arms around me and cradles her head into my chest.

“I went to visit my parents,” I whisper.

She lifts her head and pulls back a bit. “You did? In New York?”

I nod, brushing her hair out of her face and rubbing the strands between my fingers. “I killed my uncle.”

“What?” she says, her eyes widening.

“At least, I thought I did. I thought I killed him. This whole time, I blamed myself.”

She tightens her hold on me. “What happened?”

I sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “I used to hang out with my uncle. A lot. He was fun and nothing like my parents. He wasn’t rich, and he definitely didn’t have maids or any of that shit. He lived by himself in an apartment over his garage, where he worked on cars.” I look down at her. “That’s where the obsession started, I guess,” I say, smiling down at her.

She squeezes my hand, urging me to continue. I tilt my head back. “He taught me how to drive and fix cars. He taught me everything I know. But he suffered from addiction.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “He smoked weed, he drank, he did coke, even heroin. He was an addict, and I was just a kid. I didn’t know what to do.”

I was only eight when I noticed he wasn’t himself. When he woke up at four in the afternoon, and his eyes were red. “I hated what the drugs were doing to him. He never hurt me, never gave me drugs. He would kill me if he knew I smoked, but he was a mess, Rosie.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “He looked like shit. Barely slept, barely ate, and he was broke and in so much debt from the drugs.”

I blink away the wetness in my eyes and swallow. “One day, he told me to get a tool he needed for the car he was working on, and I went upstairs. I left him. Fuck, I wish I hadn’t. But I did. When I got back… He’d done drugs all his life. I didn’t know. Fuck, I didn’t know.”

I tried to ask Frank for help that same morning. I went into his office, wanting him to help his brother, but instead, I walked in on him and his assistant. He yelled at me to knock before coming in, and I left. He didn’t help me, and in the end, I couldn’t help my dad.

My voice is shaky, and if it weren’t for Rosie squeezing my hand, I’d think I was back there. I had a few episodes right after it happened where I would see myself back there again, witnessing it like it was the first time.

“I didn’t take long so he must have barely snorted the line, because when I came back he was out. Down on that hard concrete floor. His mouth was foaming, and he was spasming on the floor, and I did nothing. I watched. I was frozen in place, watching him die. I panicked. Only after he stopped, I grabbed my phone and called the police, but it was already too late. He was dead.”

She tucks her head into the crook of my neck, leaving a soft kiss there. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers against my chest.

Those words make me feel like a ton of bricks have been removed from my chest. I’ve never heard anyone say that before. Not even my mother.

“He was my father,” I whisper. “My mother ended up confessing that she cheated on my dad, or I guess, my uncle. Fuck.” I breathe out. “This is so confusing.”

She tightens her hold on me. “I blamed myself for years,” I tell her. “I lived with the burden that I didn’t help him. When he needed me, I didn’t help him.” I drop my head, looking down at her. “I watched my dad die.”

Her eyes drift closed, and she wraps her arms around me, holding onto me. Fuck, this feels good. Being here with her. I don’t ever want to leave. “It wasn’t your fault. You’re good, Grayson. You’re a good person.”

Every day I spend with her, I start to believe it a little more. Someone as good as Rosalie wouldn’t want to be around me if I was so horrible, right?

“Is this what this is?” she asks, running her soft fingertips over the ink on my arm. Her eyes lift to look up at me as she continues caressing my skin.

I swallow and give her a curt nod. She looks back down, leaning in to kiss his birth date tatted on my skin. “He would have been so proud of you,” she whispers against my skin. “Thank you for telling me.”

Something thick builds in my throat. “I…” I take a breath and swallow down whatever I was about to say and say something smart instead. “Are you thinking of moving to Paris?” I haven’t brought it up since she told me about it. But I can’t stop thinking about it. She might move away. I won’t see her ever again.

She lets out a breath, closing her eyes. “I don’t know. Your mother is a wonderful person. It would be a dream come true. But I hate the fact that she’s making me choose between two dreams.”

I nod. “Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan of hers right now either.” I should have talked to her about Rosie, but she doesn’t know that we know each other or that we’re… involved.

Rosie yawns again, struggling to keep her eyes open. “I’m sorry I woke you, angel. Go to sleep.” I kiss her forehead, tucking her head into me.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.

“For what?”

She lifts her head, and those blue eyes shine as she looks at me through hooded eyes. “You came looking for sex, and I can’t give you that. You wanted a distraction, to have fun, and instead, I’m half asleep.”

I sigh, closing my eyes when I feel her breath on my skin. “It’s okay, Rosie. Get some sleep,” I say, relaxing into her as she holds onto me.

The fucked-up thing is that I wasn’t even thinking about sex. I was thinking about what we were doing right here. I wanted her arms wrapped around me as she tightens her hold on me until we fall asleep.

She feels right tucked next to me, her head fitted against my chest. She feels like she was made for me.

And I’m scared as fuck of what that means.