"Dallas, I'm sorry."

I was beginning to think that Drayton was physically incapable of saying the words. He'd hinted towards slight remorse after making the remark on the football field regarding my apparent drug habit and insinuating I'd given him sexual favours. But he'd been yet to actually acknowledge that he was apologetic.

So I can't help but turn onto my back, finding him on his side, watching me with cautious eyes.

"Did you just say sorry?"

"Yes," he sighs, leaning up on his elbow. "I shouldn't have done that just now and I shouldn't have said what I said on Tuesday. That was messed up."

I'm reluctant to immediately accept his apology, just based on the track record of his habit to do a one-eighty on me and say something stupid again. But his face seems genuine so after a long moment of silence I finally sigh.

"Forgiveness is granted. But you're on probation."

"Probation?"

"Yes, probation. Do something stupid again and you'll be eating through a straw for the rest of your life."

"Damn cheer pear." He gives me a terrified wide-eyed stare. "You're violent."

"You got that right." I prop myself up on an elbow again so we're now both facing each other. "So tell me something, are you really a drug dealer?"

"No," he laughs lightly, rubbing his eye. "I know a guy who occasionally hooks me up with a little weed and we might pass around the odd joint at a party. That's all."

"You're on steroids aren't you? That's the only explanation for" - I wave my hand over his built torso - "all of that!"

"I'll have you know I spend hours in the gym and on the field thank you very much. There's no shortcuts here."

"If you say so," I mimic his earlier comment with a sly smirk. He must be exhausted because he continually yawns, covering his mouth with his hand, causing his bicep to flex. I've literally lost my mind. I am not this shallow, surely.

Suddenly my phone starts flashing, indicating that I have a notification. I snatch it off the side table drawer, falling on my back and reading the home screen before I start typing in my password.

"Tinder?" Drayton scoffs. "You're on tinder?"

"Do you have no personal boundaries!" I rethink my course of action and decide not to check the notification while he's hovering about. "It's none of your business."

"Come on." He inches slightly closer towards me. "I told you something about myself. Share."

"You told me you occasionally smoke up with your buddies. Yippee. So does half the population!" I put the phone back on the side table drawer and fold my arms across my chest as I stare at the ceiling.

"You don't need to be on tinder ya know?" I can physically sense his eyes on me and it's unnerving to say the least. "You're hot enough to score without a booty call app."

"I don't wanna date," I huff loudly, ignoring the little flutters in my tummy when he calls me hot. "And I don't wanna hook up with people from town. So occasionally when I get an itch that needs scratching I go on tinder and meet people from the towns over. Okay. No big deal. Can we sleep now?"

"Wait wait wait." Drayton holds his hands up, as if to put a halt to any thoughts that are getting away from him. "You, Dallas Bryan, you do booty calls because you want a no strings attached situation."

"I swear if I have to shout double standards, I'll pull your tongue out. And it's not even that often! Like super rarely!"

"No, I'm not judging!" he quickly assures me. "I'm wondering where you've been all my life."

"Gross. No." I think it's obvious that the rejection is half-hearted, despite my efforts to sound serious.

Would I ever actually do it? No. 

Will I fantasise about it? Probably.

"Not that I want to" - he holds his fingers up to make quotations - "scratch your itch. But why not? What do you have against me?"

"Honestly?" He gives me a reluctant look but then nods his head, wanting to hear why I'd resist his delicious body. "You're a cliche. You're the guy my Mom warned me about. You're the guy that all the girls wish they could change but in the end you won't. You are who you are. And don't get me wrong, I like that you're honest about that. But it's just not for me and I don't wanna be just another girl that slept with Drayton Lahey."

"So it's a pride thing?" he asks curiously, not denying anything I'd just said.

"I guess, more like self-preservation. Apart from your occasional asshole comments and abducting me for the night, I don't have anything against you. I just don't want to sleep with you."

"That's not the impression I got from you ten minutes ago." He wiggles his brows with a cocky smirk.

"I'm delirious!" I bite. "Honestly I won't remember any of this tomorrow. So I can't be held responsible for my actions."

"Is that so?" He squints at me with an unbelieving expression.

"Yeah. Anyway. Night." I roll over, putting an abrupt end to the conversation before I say anything else that I'll cringe about in the morning. I've already shared entirely too much about myself.

I hear a small breathy chuckle from Drayton before the mattress ripples under his movements. "Night."

• • •

If I thought last night's shame-induced conversations caused a hot flush in my cheeks, the sobering aftermath is far worse.

I lie next to Drayton who sleeps like the dead. He doesn't snore, he doesn't move, at one point I had to check if he was even breathing.

The sunlight filters through the large window, the morning rays casting beams onto the bed so brightly that I don't know how anyone could possibly stand waking up like this each morning. The room has heated up so much that I've had to kick my legs out of the covers before I turned into a sweaty mess.

Flashes of last night's conversations echo through my mind, taunting me and getting more embarrassing as each one replays itself. It's not that I'm typically a shy person, I'm quite happy to speak my mind at the best of times. But I'd really given Drayton an earful last night and my coping methods were far from graceful. I should have called a cab and gone home.

The almost kiss suddenly starts to surface, and I remember how easily I'd almost given myself over to him at the simple battering of his lashes and scent of his cologne. My hands fly over my face as I quietly groan. So much regret.

I decide it's best that I get home as soon as possible. Nathan will be home soon, if he's not already. I pick up my cellphone and curse at the thirteen percent battery and then I curse even louder at the time.

"Eleven twenty-seven! Ugh." If Nathan was home he would have texted asking where I was so I get up and disappear into the bathroom.

"Shit, what the hell am I going to wear?" I pick up my dress from the bathroom floor. Neither the top I'm currently wearing nor last night's dress is an item I want to be seen in if anyone happens to catch me leaving. Which leads me to my next problem, I need a ride home.

"This is a fucking nightmare."

I decide it has to be the dress; it's mine, not Drayton's. I quickly change before I pull my hair into a ponytail and wipe away the smudged makeup from under my eyes. I'm a fraction less tragic looking than I was five minutes ago. But I'm still in desperate need of a shower. That will have to wait.

I pull open the bathroom door and almost die of heart failure when I find Drayton leaning against the door frame wearing just a pair of sweatpants and a cocky smirk. His bed hair is shaggy and if I'm being perfectly honest, sexy.

"Morning cheer pear." He wiggles his brows. "I heard you talking to yourself. Cute."

"Shut up." I roll my eyes and push past him. "Can you please give me a ride home? I was going to take a cab but since you're up?"

"Yeah I can do that. I have to go to the gym anyway." He grabs a towel that's draped over a desk chair. "Gimme five minutes to have a shower."

He shuts the door behind him and a moment later the pattering sound of the shower sounds out. I spend the next ten minutes sitting on his bed, doing my best not to visualise him in the shower. Why is my mind being so traitorously filthy lately?

"Ready?" he asks when he comes out of the bathroom dried and dressed in a pair of Nike track pants and a fitted black tank top. His damp hair is tousled into a messy style.

"Yeah." I stand up with my heels in hand and follow him out of the room. We head down the carpet lined staircase and land in the large foyer. On one side is the entryway to the living room and the other, a kitchen. Which is where we head and unsurprisingly, it looks like something from a home decor catalogue.

The floors are a dark vinyl, the entire far wall is floor to ceiling glass that opens out on to a concrete patio which houses some gorgeous outdoor couches and a barbecue. There's a dark granite island in the middle of the kitchen, all the appliances are sleek and shiny and there's a four-person, glass kitchen table in the far left corner.

Not unexpectedly, the kitchen isn't empty. It's the occupant who surprises me more than anything. Even with his back to us and the groggy memory of last night, I can tell it's Drayton's friend. He's standing in the fridge, scratching the back of his head.

"Hey Grayson," Drayton greets, seemingly not surprised to find him in the fridge. Grayson keeps his back to us but waves over his shoulder.

"Hey man," he mumbles with a groggy voice. "I'm so hungry Dray. All your Mom buys in the shopping is organic juice. Can you tell her to pick up some toaster waffles next time."

Drayton rolls his eyes and folds his arms across his chest while Grayson carries on his little tirade with no idea that I'm standing here and Drayton apparently doesn't feel the need to inform him of the extra company.

"Man last night was fucking wild! I need a shower." He shoves something in his mouth, chewing loudly as he shuts the fridge door. "My dick smells like-"

He turns around and splutters on the food he'd be chewing as his eyes land on me and widen phenomenally. "Oh God," he chokes, a shower of crumbs spraying from his mouth.

"Hey." I give him an awkward wave as Drayton stares at him with a mixture of disgust and hilarity. Grayson leans with one hand on the countertop, his eyes darting around the room as he swallows his mouthful of food.

"Hey," he murmurs once his food is gone. He turns to Drayton and shoots him a bewildered look. "Thanks for the warning!"

"You were just on such a roll" - he makes a rolling motion with his arms as he walks towards the kitchen cabinet - "I didn't have the heart to stop you."

Grayson groans with frustration. "Sorry about that," he chuckles as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. He really is pretty cute and I wonder if he's a bit of an ass like Drayton or if in their case, opposites attract.

"It's okay, honestly." I wave my hand dismissively, ensuring him that I'm not offended or disturbed by the guy talk that I'd been ear too. I know that males reserve a special kind of conversation etiquette for when it's just them. "Did you have a good night?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims, nodding his head with a smile. "How about you? What'd you think of the club? Would you go back?"

"I guess I would." I shrug my shoulders, displaying a little bit of indifference. "I'd probably drink a little less and stick closer to my friend next time. I think I danced with half of Castle Pines last night. There's a lot of perverts out there. . ."

"That there are!" He points at me with a raised brow and we both start laughing. "But uh, I probably would have asked you to dance too. That dress looks amazing on you."

"Oh." I blush at the compliment. "Thanks."

I notice Drayton for the first time since his friend and I started chatting. His head whips back and forth between the two of us, a contorted expression scrunching up his features.

"Hey smelly dick!" he shouts, causing Grayson to scowl in his direction. "Go take a shower" - he jabs his thumb over his shoulder, directed towards the entryway - "come on Dallas. Let's go."

"Nice to see you again Grayson." I smile and he returns the gesture with a wave as I follow Drayton out of the kitchen, towards the front door.

"What's the deal with your friend?" I ask once we're seated in the same jeep we'd used last night. The car seems like an odd vehicle choice for Drayton and I suppose that it might not be his at all seen as he does have a motorcycle.

"What do you mean?" he asks as we pull out of the driveway and I admire how much more stunning the property looks in daylight.

"I mean like, you told him to have a shower, at your house? Does he live with you or something?"

"Yeah he does. Grayson and I have been friends since we were twelve. He and his family used to live in summer creek." Summer creek is a neighbouring town about twenty minutes over. It's small and only has the most basic facilities, like a school, gas station, a few other small boutiques and a supermarket. "His parents moved over to Canada a couple of years ago, but at the time he was involved with a girl and he didn't want to leave her. So he moved in with us, kept going to school in Summer creek and spent a lot of time with his girl. But things fell apart between them and by then he just didn't want to leave in general. He dropped outta school and started working for my Mom."

"Wow," I raise my brows with an impressed expression. Not every family would take in their son's friend so willingly. I felt it spoke volumes about their character. "What does your Mom do?"

"She makes like natural" - he waves his hand in front of his face - "cleanser stuff. Stuff you wash your face with. Chick products. I dunno. Grayson's kind of like an errand boy. Does odd jobs for her that she doesn't have time to do herself."

"Aw, that's cool." I smile. "Your parents sound great."

"They're not bad." His tone is causal but I see the slight rise in his lips and shine in his eyes.

I'd obviously been flirting with Grayson earlier, just a little. But I'm aware that it doesn't have the same effect on me that Drayton does and that bothers me more than just a little.

We pull up in front of my house and I'm surprised to find that I only live about five minutes away from Drayton's lavish luxury. When I glance over at the house I spot Spencer sitting on the doorstep, chewing her thumbnail as she rocks back and forth. Something's obviously bothering her but she doesn't start freaking out when she sees the car.

"Can she not see us?" I ask curiously.

"Na, the windows are tinted."

"Right." I nod slowly, bringing my attention back to Drayton. "So um. Thanks for taking care of me and bringing me home."

"So did you mean what you said last night?" Drayton asks, piercing me with a look that I feel prisoner under, he keeps one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel, angling his body towards me. "About never wanting to speak to me again after we go our separate ways."

I stumble for an answer, not entirely sure what I want to say. I can't even read his face for some kind of indication, because he's giving nothing away. However, the heat behind his eyes is starting to unravel what little thoughts I had managed to piece together.

"I don't think there's any point." I finally shrug with a sheepish voice. "We're not dating, we're not having sex. We are polar opposites. I mean what use do we have talking to each other?"

"I think the term people use is friends." He chuckles lightly as he picks at the leather steering wheel and bounces his leg up and down.

"We have nothing in common," I explain, fidgeting with the strap of my heel. It sucks, but I just don't see the point in complicating our weird relationship any further. "We don't run in the same circle. We don't have the same interests. It just seems like the grounds for a friendship don't work for us."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he agrees with a quiet voice and furrowed brows. His pouty expression is nothing more than fleeting as he quickly straightens up and sports a devious grin. "Call me if you ever want some no strings attached fun."

"Typical." I roll my eyes and open the jeep door, giving him one last wave before I close it again. "See you round."

He gives me a wink and then drives away, leaving me on the sidewalk with a bundle of foreign emotions to carry around. Did I do the right thing? Was it better that I steered clear of a friendship considering how often I've thought about him in an inappropriate way this week? Did I really not want to be his friend? I don't have any of the answers right now, so I turn on one foot and walk towards the doorstep, realising as I get closer to Spencer that she's sobbing lightly.

"Spence!?" I jog the rest of the way and grip her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

She looks up from the pavement and I gasp, a hand flying over my mouth as I look at the horrible big black bruise that's currently covering one of Spencer's eyes.

• • •

End of chapter seven. Thanks for the reads and votes. Y'all are theee best. X
Thank you for 500 reads already! I'm also number 2 on teen fictions rising list ! Dyin ! So much love x