All The Wild Ones | Wildfire Series

Longshot

NESSA

My house was a typical two-story. Tan, stucco exterior, tiled roof. Cute and moderately sized with a carefully watered front lawn, it was where I'd lived my whole life. With a few updates, of course.

By the time Grayson and I pulled into the driveway out front, my fingernails had made little indents in my coffee cup from where I'd been clutching it a bit too tight.

From where I'd been trying desperately to keep a grip on reality.

Because Grayson Everett was not reality. There was literally no way this guy was real. No fucking way.

Sure, he played football. And that definitely wasn't my thing. Nor was his cockiness or overconfidence.

But I spent the rest of the car ride to Patterson quizzing Grayson on Sherlock, and I wasn't disappointed. Or maybe I was. It was hard to say how I felt about it, but he knew every answer to every question. From The Hounds of Baskerville book to the movie to the BBC episode—I couldn't get him to trip up. And while he still didn't disclose what his specific musical talents were, he talked about the show's soundtrack like he'd played it.

I sighed as I glanced up at my house and the swirling clouds above it.

God, I'm begging you to send me more flaws.

Ready to bolt out of the car and away from the way this guy made me feel, I yanked on the door handle.

"Wait," Grayson said, surprising me. Feeling slightly nervous about what he wanted, I turned around. Slow and measured-like. But by the time I swiveled to face him, Grayson had already slammed his door and was walking outside. I watched him, following his movements with my eyes as he circled the trunk to plant himself on the passenger side.

Making a dramatic show of opening the car door for me, Grayson held out his hand in a sweeping motion. Then he stared at me with a sweet smile, and my lips parted with a bit of awe.

This was not what I meant by a flaw, God.

I swallowed, trying not to let him affect me. "I can get out of the car on my own, Grayson."

He laughed, undeterred. "I am well aware that you are highly capable of fleeing my car, as you've already tried to do so once. However, you might recall that this is a date, Adler."

His hand inched forward, begging to be taken, and I gave in.

I slid my palm into his, and he wrapped his fingers around my hand. His grip was firm. Hot but not sweaty. Steady but not unyielding.

With the unnecessary help of Grayson, I popped out of the car only to be knocked back against it, a small body flying into me.

Well, not so small anymore, I realized.

"I can't breathe, Rory," I gasped, pinned between my surprisingly tall, strong brother and the side of the Volkswagen.

Grayson's blue eyes caught mine over the top of Rory's head, and I could tell he was repressing a laugh. His eyes smiled at us.

"You've been gone forever," Rory said. Or at least I thought that was what he said. The words were a bit muffled; Rory's face pressed into my sweatshirt.

I grinned, warmth spreading through me. "I've missed you, too, Rory." And I had—a lot. I'd missed home. "But it's only been a few months."

He pulled back, shrugging off the hug like the cool, unbothered eleven-year-old he was. "Piper didn't shut up the entire time you were gone, so it seemed a lot longer."