The night Drayton explains his tattoo.

D R A Y S • P O V

"Switch to an AK man, your blades not earning enough kills."

Tapping of game controllers and hundreds of repetitive artificial gunshots blare throughout Maxon's basement. I check my cellphone for the seventh time, watching the hours of the night tick by before I slide it back into my hoodie pocket, leaving my hands inside.

It's Friday night and not unusually we've spontaneously gathered in Maxon's basement, which doesn't sound right for this room and never has. It's walls are painted a cream colour while the thick carpet is a deep rich red. Like the den at my place, there's a games and bar area with pool and a fridge that's always stocked with beverages. On the left side of the room is a floor to ceiling shelving unit which has almost every game under the sun on it. And on the back wall is a seventy two inch screen. Bucket seats sit beneath that for the game players to use, behind those seats is a coffee table and behind that is the large semi circle cream suede sofa.

James and Austin light up their second blunt while Maxon and Jed sat perched in their bucket seats, focused solely on the video game on the big screen television.

"Fuck man, if I had that rpg I woulda blown that cunt sky high." Maxon chortles. I absentmindedly watch the chaos on the screen. I've never been big on video games. I don't get the hype.

"Fuck sakes man!" Jed throws his arms open wide, the controller vibrating in his right hand. "How about next time you revive me instead of jerking yourself off!"

"Dray." Austin pulls my attention to the spot on the sofa beside me where he holds out his hand, offering the joint.

"Na," I decline, leaning back in the sofa and propping my feet on the coffee table which is littered with beer bottles, an ash tray full of cigarette butts and fast food rubbish. "I'm gonna head off in a bit."

"Where's Gray tonight?" Jed asks, tapping his thumb against his controller with his tongue half hanging out of his mouth.

"Ah ya prick!" Maxon shouts, dropping his own controller on to the floor with a huff.

"He's at home with his girlfriend."

"Spencer ae?" Maxon abandons the game, standing up with a stretch before he strides towards the coffee table and retrieves his beer. Which is probably warm by now.

"She's weird ae." Austin pipes in, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. His head leans back in the sofa beside me and I can't help but laugh at how red his eyes are.

"She's gotta hot body though." Jed doesn't break his attention from the game when he comments. He sets up a one person round and crosses his legs at the ankles. "Fucken seen her and Dallas at that club opening ages ago. She's all goooood."

"Dallas is more my type." Maxon wiggles his brows, falling back into the other side of the sofa with that dumbass look on his face.

"Shut the fuck up, Max." I murmur, staring at the ceiling so that I don't get up and punch him in the face. Last time we'd argued about her, I almost did.

"Told ya once, I'll tell ya again." Maxon shrugs his shoulders with a small grin as he brings the beer closer to his mouth. "As long as you're with Emily. She's fair game."

"If she wouldn't fuck me then she's not gonna fuck you." Austin cackles from his spot. When I turn to glare at him in question, I notice that James has drifted off to sleep and it reminds me of how damn done I am for the night.

"What do you mean, she wouldn't fuck you?" The tone of my voice hadn't meant to be so hostile. But who am I kidding, when it comes to Dallas, I can't help it.

"Yeah the away game. She sat beside me on the bus and I tried. She wasn't having a bar of it." His words are barely coherent. The end of his joint has burnt out and now sits between his fingers, his hand resting on his knee while his eyes flicker shut.

"Yeah, well you're an ugly cunt." Maxon laughs obnoxiously when Austin responds by flipping him off. Although the entire gesture is flimsy and half assed because he's basically unconscious at this point.

"Let's be real," Jed pipes up, his attention not wavering from the bloodshed on the screen. "The only guy that I've seen Dallas give even an ounce of her attention too, is Drayton. I really don't think any of y'all have a chance with her."

The room falls quiet, save for the surround sound blaring bloody murder. I'm surprised that Maxon has nothing to say to that and if Jed wasn't so focused on his game, I'd give him a high five for shutting him the hell up.

Unfortunately, I'm all too aware of the truth. Dallas is done with me. And so she should be. I've let her believe that I'm with Emily for the last two months. I haven't seen her in a few weeks, Christmas and New Years break having kept us off school and essentially out of each other's way. But the last time we did cross paths, she barely acknowledged my existence. That fucking sucked. But it's for the best. She deserves the future that she wants, the one that she's worked hard for and like hell would I let Emily fuck with it.

Dallas will get over me, if she was ever. . . under me. She'll move to California and find some dude that treats her well. That doesn't hesitate to tell her how much he loves her, that doesn't use arrogance and sarcasm as a coping method. Someone that makes her forget all about me.

Fuck, I don't know that I'll ever be able to forget her though.

I don't stay for a lot longer. It's Friday but I'm tired and just not in the most social mood. I'd really only gone out in the first place because Grayson and Spencer were becoming suffocating. I spent the entire Christmas and New Years holiday watching the two of them all over each other and after a while it became nauseating.

The warmth of the Jeeps heating is a welcomed comfort when it finally gets going about three minutes into the drive home. It's fucking freezing and I'm a little bit bewildered at the sight of someone walking down the sidewalk in these temperatures at night.

"What the fuck." I murmur to myself when I finally realise who it is.

All I see is red.

I'm pissed.

The car brakes are slammed and I'm back out in the cold before I have time to process the approach I'm about to take.

"What the hell are you doing?" I stop in front of Dallas and immediately notice how damn beautiful she is. Her cheeks pink but her lips have definitely lost a bit of colour. I wish I could appreciate seeing her more but I'm about to lose my fucking shit.

"Um-" she looks around as if she doesn't understand the question, which only adds fuel to the annoyance that I'm already feeling. "I'm walking home?"

"Why?! Where's your car?"

"Nathan's using it." She shrugs with a little shudder and teeth chatter. "He was meant to pick me up but he forgot I think."

"You think?!"

"Dray, settle. God." She stares at me as though I've lost it. And perhaps I have. But knowing that her own fucking brother let her walk home in the middle of the night, makes it worse.

Is that what he wants to tell people when she's murdered and left in a ditch. That he fucking forgot?!

"Get in the car." I turn and start heading back towards the vehicle. It hadn't been an invitation to argue. But it wouldn't be Dallas if she didn't have something to say.

"Dray, I live just up the road. It's fine."

"Do I need to physically put you in my car?" I turn around and start advancing on her. Because if she thinks I won't throw her cute ass into the back of this Jeep, then she's dead wrong.

"Alright, alright!" She holds her hands up and quickly scurries along behind me.

•

I'm vaguely aware that I just went off at Nathan as I drive home in an almost catatonic rage. I'm also aware that I took out my own issues on the two of them and I really need to stop doing that. I don't think what I said was wrong.. exactly. But I probably could have been a little more chill about it. I'd really laid into him and honestly, he's a good dude. He made a mistake. But I know how deadly mistakes like that can be. And if something horrible happened to Dallas, it'd destroy me.

The sound of tires crunching through the snow can be heard before I see the shine of headlights illuminate the front of the house as I walk up the steps.

She followed me.

I wish she wouldn't do this. She does it every time. She chases me down because she can't let things go and it fucks with me. It gives me hope and I don't deserve it. I don't deserve to hope that she feels something. I don't deserve to feel excitement over the fact that she chased me down.

"Stop Dray!" She shouts, the car door slamming is followed by jogging footsteps. She wants answers. I can feel it already. My hand grips the door handle in an attempt to self soothe some of the stress that feels like it's about to become too much. I turn and meet her thunderous expression from the bottom of the front steps. Now isn't the time to admire that attitude that I love so much. But damn. I can't help it.

"You need to tell me what the hell that was about!"

"It wasn't about anything." I answer with a cold tone because my control feels like it's slipping away and I fucking hate that feeling. "Just go home alright. Leave it alone."

"No!" She stomps up the rest of the stairs and plants herself directly in front of me, doing her hardest to appear a little taller. "I deserve an explanation. This isn't the first time you've flipped out at me for walking home alone at night. And if you're going to yell at my brother, then I wanna know why!"

She's right. She deserves an explanation. She deserves to know the reason behind my erratic mood and she deserves to know how much I trust her. There's safety in this girl. Those eyes hold the promise of strength and trust. But the thought of her looking at me in disgust or being revolted by the actions of my past, is terrifying to imagine.

"Dray," She steps closer once again and lifts her hand to the stubble of my jaw line, gently caressing my face with those soft hands. "Let me in. Tell me what that was really about. I know there's something you're keeping from me. You can trust me."

I know I can trust you, baby.

She's not like anyone else that I've ever known. I've trusted her from the moment we first spoke. I treated her like trash and she still didn't tell anyone about what happened with Emily. A girl like her is rare and I can't believe how many times I've almost let her slip through my fingers. The gentle strokes of her fingertips spread a warmth through my veins, causing a race in my heart and a surge of foreign nerves alight my senses beyond anything that I've ever felt.

With a deep breath, I clutch her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together and leading her inside. She needs and deserves this.

My truth.

It's hers.

Because how can I give her myself if I withhold such a huge part of my past.

And I want to give her my whole self. My heart, my life, my future. I want to give her everything. And if she doesn't want it, then neither do I.

"I haven't told anyone this before." I tell her when we're both comfortably situated on the sofa, the light of the small flame in the fire place is all the illuminates the room. "I haven't even really said it out loud."

"I'm here." she offers with an unwavering voice. The sheer confidence of it offers a comfort that I didn't think could come from words alone.

I meet her gaze and know that whatever happens from here on out, I need her. And I'll do whatever I can to make up for all the time that I've wasted. When this part of the confession is over, I'll confess something else. Something I should have confessed a long time ago.

"I haven't always been an only child." The first sentence is harder than I thought it would be. It's like ripping a flimsy band aid off an open wound that won't heal. "I had a twin sister. Her name was Abigail. Abby for short. She was - she was my best friend. We did everything together, ya know. Dad was always taking us on these football fields and carting us around the country but it was awesome because we always made the most of it."

I smile at the memory of her and I, spending weeks on the road, having adventures that other kids could only dream of.

"When we lived in Dallas, we had this group of friends that lived a few houses down from us. We were twelve and our friend was turning thirteen so she was having a big party, minus alcohol ya know. It was games like air hockey and pool. That sort of thing, a bunch of kids were invited so we all went together. Anyway, I got pretty tired around eleven. We lived down the street so we walked back and forth all the time. It took us about thirty seconds to get home. So I told Abby I was heading home and that I'd come back and get her when she was ready. She just had to text me."

My head drops with a sob and as hard as I try and pull myself together, thinking about what a monumental fuck up I'd been that night, it breaks me.

"The next morning I woke up and realised I'd slept through a bunch of calls and texts. The last one said that she thought someone was following her."

I clear my throat, wiping my damp face with the back of my hand. I can't look at Dallas. I can't see her pity. I don't deserve it. It's as if I can pretend like I'm not a mess if I don't meet her gaze.

"They found her body two days later, in a ditch about thirty miles from home. Naked, beaten and assaulted. They caught the guy. He was just some sick pervert that happened to stumble across her. There was no association. My Dad retired from the NFL and we moved here a few months later, in hopes of a fresh start."

"Drayton, I'm so sor-"

"Don't!" I straighten up and turn towards her, finally meeting her eyes and seeing the slight glisten. "Do not tell me you're sorry. What happened to her is my fault."

"No it isn't!" She picks up my hand, lacing our fingers together and it's an action that surprises but comforts me all the same. "Drayton, it isn't your fault!"

"I should have walked with her. It's my fault."

"Stop! You were just a child. What about your parents. They should have been picking you up and dropping you off themselves. You can't shoulder that kind of blame!"

"My parents left a sitter with us. She slept more than she sat though." I mutter with annoyance. "They were in Columbia for a game."

"Dray, please, you can't carry around guilt for something that wasn't your fault." Her dainty fingers squeeze my hand. I can feel her unwavering stare and I feel fucking small under the heat of it. "It'll make you sick. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Sure feels like it."

"This is about her isn't it?" She lifts the sleeve of my t-shirt, her finger tips trace the outlines of my tattoo and it takes an abundance of self control not to shudder at her touch. I can't stop the goosebumps that rise though. She effects me in a way that I can't comprehend.

"Yeah." I mumble, watching her hand caress my bicep.

"Drayton, if you don't believe anything I say, believe this. You are not responsible for what happened." She tucks her hand around my jaw and directs my face to look at her while her thumb makes gentle circles on the stubble of my cheek. "It was an accident! I understand why you hate seeing me walk home at night now."

"That night you walked away from me in Castle Pines was - it was - shit. I felt like I was re living a nightmare. Re living that night and I couldn't let it end the same way. Dallas, I don't like seeing any young girl walking alone" - I swivel towards her more - "but especially not you. Promise me that you'll always call me if you need a ride. Even if we're not speaking. Or you hate me. Just call me. Any time, any where. I'll come and give you a ride Dallas. Promise me?"

"I promise."

Relief surges through me for more than one reason. She knows. She finally knows the deepest darkest part of me and she's still here. She's still holding my hand and regarding me with the soft but strong gaze that I was afraid I'd lose at my admission. I'm relieved because she finally understands and part of me knows without a doubt, that she'll stick to her word.

"Thank you." I murmur, keeping our eyes locked on one another.

"For what?"

"For listening. For understanding and not making me feel worse."

"Dray, I would never. I meant what I said. You aren't to blame and you don't deserve to carry around that sort of guilt."

She's perfect. I appreciate the fuck out of her on so many levels. It's hard to deny how you feel about someone when home goes from being a place to a person. She doesn't just know me for who I allowed her to see. She now knows all the parts of me that make me who I am and that's vulnerability.

That's love.

"I've missed you." I tell her, because it's time to start being honest.

"I've missed you too."

The truth in her hushed voice elates me more than I thought it would. I had no idea how much I needed to hear her say that. Her gaze switches between my lips and eyes and then back to my lips again and as I lean in, getting closer to that plump mouth that I so desperately need to feel, I watch her breaths become rapid. Her chest rises and falls and her hooded expression stays glued to my lips as I finally meet her mouth, coming undone at the feeling of her kiss.

It starts off soft because while I'm dying to pin her down and explore every inch of this goddess, I want her to call the shots. I've been a dick. There's no denying it. I've fucked up countless times and she deserves to decide what happens next.

She picks up the pace on our kiss and I'm in a state of fucking bliss as her tongue moves with mine. My hand cups her neck, her soft curls tangling around my fingers and without a warning, she's thrown her leg over my lap and straddles me, rolling her hips against my crotch in a way that drives me fucking wild.

Each little thrust of her hip rubs against my growing dick. Every part of me wants this girl. I want her in the dirtiest ways possible, there's no denying that. But I want her soul too. I crave her smile and laugh. I want to make her happier than she's ever been before.

My hands smack down on her ass, gripping her thick cheeks as they continue rolling against me. Her rough tugs on my hair cause my dick to throb and when she moans at the way my hands travel up her spine and into her hair, it makes me wild.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" She asks with a husky voice, her panting loud and ragged as she leans her forehead against mine and continues to rock back and forth with her hips.

I stare up at her expression, which is so filled with lust and need that I almost burst right then and there. She doesn't need to ask me twice. I've only been waiting for this moment for-fucking-ever.

I lift her up, holding her under her ass and revelling in the sound of her surprised gasp as I wrap her legs around my waist. "Fuck yes I do."

• • •

We've already seen how this scene goes so I'll be doing a smut scene of the next morning in the restricted chapters book on my profile!