Chapter Sixteen: I'm a mess.

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This chapter is dedicated to cupidthequeen for all the votes and support. Thanks so much.


November 1st

Love.

So many people, over so many years, have put it into words.

Words like, fire and ice. Words like, dying and living.

They say when they are in love each touch burns them to a scorching ash.
Each touch freezes them till they shatter into tiny bits and pieces. They say that when they are with the one they love it feels like their digging they grave with each word, with each glance, with each touch. They say that when they fall in love they become alive again.

Polar opposites.

Why is it that different people feel different things when it comes to love?

Maybe its because of the classic saying, everyone is different, or maybe it's because with different people brings different sensations.
You can have one love, or ten, or a thousand, but with each one you feel something different.

A longing, a needing, a earnest feeling of desperation.

Passion, Pain, Pleasure - All wrapped up in one word.

Love.

But what if one person brings on both sensations?

***
"Maybe we should just leave them?"

"He's going to be here in like ten minutes, we can't just leave them."

"Well maybe he deserves to see this, see that he doesn't have her wrapped around his finger."

"Samantha. What is it with you lately? You're acting as if you want her to be with Grey-"

"What the hell do you two keep bickering about?" I snap, not opening my eyes or moving away from my warm spot. I just want to drift back into the comfort of it, but my two best friends think it would be a good time to talk as if they're at a concert.

"Cole called, he said he would be here in a few minutes," Sam says in a hushed tone.

I snuggle deeper into my blanket,
"okay."

"Well...maybe you should move?"

I scrunch up my face with a groan,

"I'm not moving."

"Um Skye-"

"No, Liam. Just let her sleep," Sam snaps.

"Sam."

"Liam."

I hear a growl, "jesus-fuck, shut the hell up."

The voice comes from right beside my ear, sending warm breath along my neck. Suddenly I feel the pressure of an arm wrapped around my waist and my body encased in the hold of someone else.

That's when everything comes flying back - all the memories of last night - the pool, talking about dad, the almost kiss, my drunk blubbering self, and then me telling him to stay.

He stayed.

Greyson.

I smile, but then I comprehend Sam's earlier words. Coles coming. And I'm wrapped up in Greyson's arms.

Even though every part of me doesn't want to, I sit up and scoot away from Greyson. His eyes flutter open and he smiles - that damn smile, "hey drunky."

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