Loving Grayson ✓ (Book 2, the Hating Series)

24

Grayson

I have been texting and dialling Dallas' number for days now, and there has been no response. Nada. He hasn't even been bothered to read my texts, which wasn't that surprising, given that I did the one thing I swore I'd never do.

I hurt him.

When Mitchell explained to me that Dallas had packed his shit up and that he had headed back to LA on his own, I decided to do the same. The entire drive there was basically just me thinking nonstop about Dallas.

This was not how I expected us to go. I had expected that maybe, just maybe, we would have been happy. I wanted to be happy with him, because, at heart, I am a sappy, love-sick fool for him.

It's always been Dallas, and for me, it probably will always be him.

The moment I arrived in Los Angeles, I headed straight to Dal's college. I don't specifically remember which dorm he was in, but I remember that Mitchell had said it was on the second floor? So that was a start. I just needed to see him, to talk to him, to make sure that he was okay.

Was he okay? Or was he secretly plotting my demise for sleeping with his best friend.

Ugh, why on earth did you have to screw his best friend? I scolded myself.

Stupidly, a part of me thought that perhaps he would just forget all about it and take me back.

After knocking on more than a few doors, which had nobody inside of them, I finally found Dal's dorm room. I knew it was his room the instance that his roommate opened the door up, and he was shirtless?

"Is Dallas here?" I wondered.

"He's in the shower." He answered, bluntly. "And I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to see you."

Who the hell does he think he is?

"I don't think that's any of your business." I glared daggers into his annoyingly smug face.

"Look, dude, instead of embarrassing yourself, why don't you just leave him alone?" He suggested, which kind of made me want to deck him in the jaw, but the last the I needed was another reason for Dallas to hate me.

"What is your problem?" I asked.

"I just don't like you." His eyes narrowed as he stared me down.

"You don't even know me."

"I don't have to know you to dislike you." He quipped.

"Can you just tell him to text me?" I asked after taking a deep breath, though I knew for a fact that he would not pass along the message.

"Sure." He answered sternly before closing the door in my face.

What a cunt.

He's lucky I didn't punch him in the fucking throat.

I don't know what it is about him, but I do not trust him.

Dallas

After getting out of the shower and changing into a decent outfit, I hop out and see that Avery is talking on the phone with someone.