Out of My Control [bxb]

Chapter 8

That night, Grayson had texted me his address and told me I should come over by eight.

I told him I wouldn't be showing up, and yet here I am, parked in his driveway at 7:57, texting my mother that I have to work on a school project with Preston.

I should've gone to the movies with my friends.

I don't know why I decided not to tell my friends about his party. Though based on the cars around, or lack thereof, either I'm hella early, or there is no party and Grayson lied to get me over to his house. I assume it's the latter.

Sighing, I turn off my car before making my way up to his front door and ringing the doorbell. Within seconds, Grayson answers the door.

God, he looks good. Grayson is wearing a pale pink t-shirt over grey joggers. I know, simple. But he still looks perfect.

"I didn't think you'd actually show up," Grayson tells me with his signature smirk.

I roll my eyes, "BS, you knew I'd come over, though now I'm regretting it. You said you were throwing a party."

He grins mischievously "Change of plans." Bullshit. I can see it in his devious eyes how bullshit that is. He never planned a party. Shit, Reid, what did you get yourself into?

"So, you gonna come in, or continue standing in the doorway?" Grayson asks as he steps aside. I nervously look around the neighborhood. I don't know why, but I feel like if someone sees me go into Grayson's house they'll know something is going on between us. There isn't, but people might think there is.

I sigh and hesitantly walk in. He shuts the door, "wanna go up to my bedroom?"

The fluttering feeling starts up again in my stomach. "Are we the only ones here?" I ask, ignoring his question.

"My mom's at work. Late hours as a nurse."

"No siblings?"

"An older sister, she's in college. A younger brother and sister, but they don't live here."

"Where do they live?" I press.

"That's a story for another time. So upstairs...?"

I try to gulp down my nerves. "Uh y- yeah. Sure. Yes. We can go up... stairs. That wouldn't be a problem. Nothing will happen upstairs. It's just your bedroom. It's not like-"

"I'm not gonna pounce on you, Reid," he reassures me with a chuckle, "unless you want me to," he winks and I blush.

"Want anything to drink or eat?" Grayson motions to his kitchen.

"I'm good," I tell him. I'm way to anxious to eat or drink anything right now.

"Cool. Let's go upstairs then."

I take a deep breath and follow him step after step, wondering what the Hell is wrong with me? Why am I so nervous? Stuttering like a damn fool.

Upstairs, we enter the second door to the left. His bedroom is nothing like I expected. I guess I never really thought about what his room would be like, but if I had, this isn't it.

Grayson's walls are covered inch by inch with photos. And not photos of himself with friends, but of nature and landscapes. There are two white shelves that hang on his wall, both of which display all types of cameras. His Queen sized bed is against the wall in the corner on the right side of his room with a white nightstand next to it. His dresser was against the wall on the opposite side of the bed. That too is white.

"Oh my God," I say, awestruck by all the amazing photographs. I graze my fingers across a few. "You took these?"

I turn to Grayson and see him shrug, "Yeah."