Talia:

Grayson has a heavy head.

I know this because it's currently crushing my chest.

I lay on my back having just woken up from an insanely good night sleep. At first, I thought I was just having trouble breathing, until I remembered I have company, who is wedged on top of me. And when I say he is on top of me, I mean his head rests between my breasts and his arms circle my waist, pulling me to him like I'm a pillow.

Grayson looks peaceful as he sleeps. It might be creepy to watch him, but whatever. He's not awake to judge me. On most days his face is fixated in some sort of frown. Now, he just looks so calm. Like there's no other worry in the world.

He's very pretty.

Before I even realize what I'm doing, I reach up a hand and rake through his hair, pushing back the messy strands. It's soft. He rustles on top of me and I pause, thinking he's about to wake. A moment later he squeezes his arms tighter around my waist, holding me closer. Grayson hums and the sound vibrates against my chest.

I could get used to this. And by this I mean the heaviness of his head on my chest, because it will mean I can hold him and he can hold me.

All I remember from before we fell asleep was Grayson reading to me while I leaned on his shoulder. I must have thought it was so comfortable that couldn't keep my eyes open. Despite this slightly embarrassing fact, I'll need to thank him for calming me down last night. Iced coffee is always the way to go.

As I'm about to run my fingers through his hair again, my phone suddenly rings. Crap, I forgot it's only Thursday and we still have school.

Grayson nestles against me again, rubbing his head on my chest. I try not to think about how he's basically feeling up my breasts with his face. Expect, of course, now I'm thinking about it and I hate myself for liking it. Oops.

"Five more minutes," Grayson groans into my chest, still clinging onto my body for dear life.

I laugh, which startles him. He leans up off of me looking utterly confused and glances around the room with squinted eyes, adjusting to the light. I bet he's wondering where he is.

"Hi," I say, looking up at him from where I'm laying down.

He rubs his eyes and runs a hand across his face. Grayson scrunches his features together, appearing confused and a little embarrassed. His eyes jump down to my chest and they quickly look back up, redness now spreading across his cheeks. "Sorry I...I thought you were a pillow."

"It's fine," I say, shaking my head. To be perfectly honest, I don't mind being his pillow. He doesn't need to know that, though. I sit up. "You didn't know."

Grayson pushes his hair back, the same strands I was just petting. Why on Earth did I do that? "Why did your alarm go off? It's like six in the morning," he grumbles, his morning voice still present.

"It's Thursday, we have school," I explain, standing up to walk over to my dresser. I'm also trying to distance ourselves so we forget the idea of us sleeping together. Well, sleeping next to each other. Okay, wait, let me start over. Sleeping on top of each other. Oh, that doesn't sound good either. Let's just call it having a good night rest.

Although, this is not the first time we have slept together. Sorry, the first time we had a good night rest together.

"Ugh," he groans into his hands, falling back down on the bed. "I was hoping it was Saturday."

"Awe," I say sarcastically, my back turned towards him as I search for a shirt. "I thought you would be excited about going to school."

He gives me an incredulous expression from his spot on the bed. "It's just that—"

I turn around and look at him over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "Just that?"

Grayson sits back up and drops his feet on the floor, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes. "I wish it were Saturday so I could spend the day with you."

I blush and immediately whip my head back to my drawers. "You're not sick of me?"

"Sick of you?" By the sound of his voice, it appears he has gotten closer to me. The creaking of a floorboard confirms my belief. I try to ignore it.

"Yeah, you know. Like we've been spending a lot of time together, I feel like you should be sick of seeing me." I ruffle through a few casual shirts to wear today, finding none that meet my standards—even though I bought all of them. With the mirror in front of me, I can partially see Grayson moving towards me through my peripheral vision.

"No, I'm not sick of you..." There's a pause and when I look up at the mirror, he's in the middle of turning around, but then abruptly stops and faces me again. This time with a frown. "Are you sick of me?"

"What?" I ask. His words shock me and I quickly turn around while at the same time slamming my finger into one of the drawers. I yelp and firmly grasp the finger with a heartbeat, believing that I can somehow squeeze out the pain. "Fuck."

Grayson immediately grows concerned and approaches me.

I hold out my other hand. "I'm fine, I swear."

The harsh pain subdues a few moments later of silently cursing. When I look back at him he's biting back a smile.

"Don't say anything," I plead.

He raises his hands out in front of his chest. "Wasn't going to." His expression then flips more serious for a second. "But you're not sick of me, right?"

I shake my head and look up at him, noticing he's much closer to me than before. Probably a foot or two away at most. At this position, I can see the quick rise and fall of his chest. "No, I'm not. I actually really like..."

He steps forward, closing the gap and surprising me so much that my words cut off. He dips his head down so his lips are near my ear. Grayson's hand finds that familiar spot on my waist that attracts him like a magnet. My insides turn to mush. What is he doing to me? And why am I not scared of this feeling? The feeling of need to be close to him. To have him hold me.

"You really like what, Talia?" He speaks in a low and soft voice.

My breath hitches in my throat and I close my eyes to see if that will help me focus. It doesn't. "I—"

"You?" Grayson coaxes. A moment later his lips press gently right below my ear. An invitation for me to let him do something more. It makes me melt into him and I can feel the smile on his lips as he presses another kiss, this time lower on my neck.

How did we get to this point?

I'm not complaining, I just want to know how so it can happen again in the future.

When the third kiss lingers on my neck, I again remember that it's a Thursday morning and we have school. There's no time for Grayson to push me against the dresser and explore new spots of my body that will make me squirm. I gently push his shoulder and when I'm met with his face, he's frowning.

"We have school," I say, trying to be reasonable.

Grayson steps away and swallows what I think is a lump in his throat, not bothering to protest. His voice is strained as he runs a hand from the back of his head to the front, ruffling his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, we should get ready."

"Be right back," I practically squeak out. I then rush out of the room, finding my face flushed red and my whole body burning. Great, now I probably made things awkward. I should have told him I liked it. That I wanted him to kiss my neck.

After quickly changing my clothes in the bathroom, I return to find Grayson mid-pulling his shirt off with his back to me. What the fuck kind of hormones are in the air this morning? I'm seriously about to collapse as I stand in the doorway like a freak, staring at his muscles contracting as he moves his arms to pull on a different shirt. Am I drooling? I think I'm drooling. I wipe my mouth just to make sure.

"I think I'm supposed to say something like, "are you enjoying the view?"' Grayson suddenly says with a smirk and I realize he's now facing me. How dare he put a shirt back on?

"Ha, ha," I say sarcastically, my cheeks flushed with heat. "I wasn't staring...you just caught me as I was walking in."

He raises an eyebrow, not believing one bit of my bullshit and shakes his head smiling. His smile spreads to my face as I throw my dirty clothes into my hamper and grab my backpack.

"Ready to go?" I ask.

Grayson nods and follows me out the door and downstairs. Jessica greats us in the kitchen, casually leaning over the counter with an all-knowing smile. She bites into her apple and waves at my bed-mate.

"Hi, Grayson," she says with a wink in my direction.

I roll my eyes as he does one of those nods of acknowledgment that guys do. He opens the front door for us to walk out and go to school, but Jess's voice calls out.

"Wait, Lia."

"I'll meet you at your car," I say after turning to Grayson. He nods again and is hesitant to leave me for whatever reason. A second later he walks out and I move next to my sister.

"What?" I ask.

"Are you feeling better?" Jess questions sincerely, no doubt still worried about me after what happened yesterday. You know, the whole mental breakdown.

I sigh. "Yeah, I'm okay. Mom's words got to me, that's all."

"I know," she says. "I think you should tell dad about it."

"What could he even do? It already happened."

Jess frowns and tosses her apple core in the trash. "But what if it happens again. Mom is known to be emotionally abusive. Lia, it was really scary seeing you react like that. It was like you put a wall up and wouldn't even let me try to break in. I...I had to call Grayson because it was my only real option."

"What do you mean by that?" I scrunch my eyebrows together, more interested in her last statement than all the ones before. Those ones I already knew.

"I let you push me away yesterday because I thought you needed space. Grayson's feet were probably glued to the ground the moment he saw you a fraction upset. He wouldn't go anywhere until he made you feel better, even if you screamed at him. He cares about you."

I don't say anything and turn my head to look out the window where Grayson is leaning against his car, waiting for me. He cares about me? Is that what all of this is? All of the taking care of me when I'm sad and wanting to be around me, that means he cares about me? The obvious answer is yes. I'm just stunned I never realized it before. Someone should take away my valedictorian status.

The real question now is: how long has he cared about me? How long have I been oblivious?

"Listen," Jess continues, "just keep that in mind. You have someone who will be there for you if you need it. And tell dad about what mom said to see if he can talk to her so this stress shit can be avoided."

I look back at Jessica and smile. "Since when did you get so good at giving advice?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't get used to it, sister. But...I care about you, so there."

"Awe," I coo, running up next to her and squeezing her into a tight hug.

Jess shoves me away and shoes me in the direction of the door. "Never do that again."

"I love you, Jessie," I say once I'm at the door.

"Don't call me that." She rolls her eyes and groans before adding, "I love you, too."

I walk out the front door laughing, which must startle Grayson because he immediately straightens his posture from off of the car. "Ready to—"

He doesn't get to finish his question as I pull him down into a hug. What can I say, I'm in a hugging mood today. Grayson wraps his arms around my waist like I hoped he would and let's me hold him. No protesting needed; he cares about me. And I care about him.

When we finally detach from each other, his expression is somewhat confused.

"Thank you," I clarify, "for being there for me when I needed it."

He smiles. My heart clenches. "You're welcome, Talia."

I return the most obnoxious smile ever to exist. He doesn't seem to mind, however.

"Let's get coffee before school," I suggest.

He arches an eyebrow questioningly. "Are you ever going to stop buying me iced coffees to thank me?" I shake my head and he rolls his eyes. "All right, come on, crazy."

***

"Have you ever tried almond syrup in your coffee?"

I point up to the menu where the millions of different syrups are listed. I once made it my goal to try every single one in a year. I was five short.

Grayson turns to me with his hands shoved in his pockets like always. We're still a few paces away from the front counter to order. "No, I haven't."

"Great, let's get coffees with that, then. It tastes amazing, trust me," I state with a smile. He shakes his head smiling, probably thinking I'm a tad bit weird when it comes to my coffee.

After a few minutes of waiting, we finally reach the ordering counter and lo and behold...college guy. The University of Virginia barista who wrote his number on my cup, which Grayson then made sure to cross off. I wonder if he remembers me.

College guy's head is tilted down as he taps a few random things into a tablet. He then looks up and begins his opening barista monologue. "Hi, what can I get for you..." By the look in his eyes he recognizes me. "Oh, hey."

Shit. I give a forced smile. "Hi, can I get—"

"You never texted me," college guy interrupts, leaning forward against the counter, a mannerism I'm sure he thinks is insanely cool and casual. He's full of himself. At least, that's the vibe I'm feeling.

This is the part where Grayson realizes what is happening. The part where he realizes this is the barista guy who flirted with me and gave me his number. I look at my side and sure enough, he's staring at college guy. A hint of annoyance washes over his face. Go figure.

Mr. I'm-Likely-Jealous-Right-Now-and-Need-to-Rub-it-in-College-Guy's-Face-that-She's-With-Me steps closer to me and wraps a hand around my waist to pull me next to him. His face is smug as expected. "She probably had better things to do."

I turn back to college guy, who is now attempting to have a stare-off with Grayson. Yeah, I better intervene.

"I would actually like to order something," I speak up, softening the tension with a light voice. "We have somewhere to be."

I should have known Grayson wouldn't miss my use of we, because not even a millisecond later he softly rubs the side of my hip where his hand rests. Note: use we in public more often.

"What can I get for you?" College guy practically grumbles.

"We'll have two iced coffees with almond syrup, please."

I can feel the anger as he slams his finger on the screen to punch in the order. I didn't know I would be such a sensitive topic today. "Your total is $8.36." I hand him a ten dollar bill and he begrudgingly takes it and makes my change. "It will be out in a few minutes."

"Great, thanks!" I say enthusiastically, still trying to alter the energy in the air. It doesn't work because college guy audibly scoffs, even when I throw a dollar in the tip jar.

Grayson pulls me away from the counter and over to the crowded pick-up line. It's a tight fit with all of the people around us, so he stands behind me. I make note of his two hands that rest on the sides of my waist.

"You're too nice for your own good," he says, leaning over slightly to speak closer to my ear.

I shake my head. "Well, you're too jealous for your own good."

"I was not jealous—"

"Yes, you were," I interrupt. I turn around and look up at him smiling. "Unless you have another word for acting territorial when you met the guy who gave me his number."

Grayson gives me an amused look. "I was just acting on instinct."

Instinct to what? Show that we're together? Are we even together? I asked myself yesterday if we're even at the point where we can call each other boyfriend and girlfriend.

We've been on one date. Three if you want to count the two school project trips that felt weirdly natural and intimate. We've been together a lot the past month. Apparently we're not sick of each other yet. I want to be his girlfriend. I think that's the answer I've come to.

But does he want to be my boyfriend? Does he think the same things I do?

Maybe I should just wait. Waiting is safe.

"What are you thinking about?" Grayson asks, his face slightly concerned.

I realize I've been silent too long and the smile has been wiped off my face. "Nothing."

He's not convinced. He opens his mouth to speak, but a voice shouts through the crowd.

"Two almond iced coffees," a different barista announces and slides the drinks over the counter.

I rush over to them to avoid whatever we were going to talk about. I think I'm too scared to learn he won't want to be together like that and I will lose him. It's irrational, I know, but it's a safe thought.

I walk outside of the store, moving at a quicker pace than I usually do with Grayson right on my tail. Once we're in the parking lot, he touches my shoulder and forces me to face him.

"What just happened?" he asks. His face is extremely focused on this conversation.

"Nothing," I say.

He frowns. "You said that before. Did you...Is everything okay?"

"No. I mean, yes, I'm okay. Everything's fine. Perfect, really."

He is so good at detecting my bullshit. A professional. "Tell me. Please."

It's my turn to frown and I shift my weight uncomfortably on both of my legs. He nods to encourage me to speak and his eyes are gentle. Maybe this is the right time to have the boyfriend-girlfriend talk.

"I was thinking about what we are to each other," I begin. "The way you were holding me in there made me think about it."

His eyebrows knit together in the way they always do. "Do you not like it when I do that? Because I don't mean to make you uncomfortable—"

"No, no," I cut in. "I like it. But what do I say to people who see us like that and ask what our relationship is?"

Grayson shoves his hands in his pockets. He's silent. I don't think I like that, especially because he's studying my face in a way that makes me want to squirm. Or run away.

"Tell them I'm your boyfriend."

He steps closer and my heart is ready to explode. I never knew this kind of talk could be so easy. That he would arrive at a decision so quickly. This isn't how it happens in my romance books. Should I be skeptical? He returns his hand to that spot on my waist, and I know my answer is no.

"I really like you, Talia. And it's not something that scares me anymore."

He's not real.

I stand on my toes and kiss him, just to convince me otherwise. I smile when he kisses me back, acting as evidence against my previous statement. I try reaching up to pull him down more, but remember I'm holding our coffees in my hands. I never knew coffee would work against me in this way.

Our lips detach and I move away with my cheeks tinted pink. Grayson's smiling. I can barely think straight.

"Tell them I'm your girlfriend," I state. "For all of the same reasons."

I can't read the emotions in his face. It's something between happy and