The Way I Loved You

Chapter Three

Chapter 3

Entering the football house– our heels clinks as it meets the wooden floors. It's a huge house, duh– these are football men. The music blasting from the outside, hundreds of people talking, the smell of alcohol surrounding the room, blue lights going around, and people jumping.

Multiple huge football players of Columbia University. Tall men, obvious that they bench press almost everyday.

"I'm gonna go get a drink, you want one?" Nicole asks, her hand leaving my arm.

"Sure– Vodka Soda"

As she walks away, a hand drapes around my waist, their hot breath on my neck, I can tell this man is leaning down with his height, and his perfume strong enough to smell from across the room.

"Didn't know you'd come to my party Davis." Using my last name– I recognize that deep voice from anywhere.

"Richards." Lowering my voice, slowly putting my hand on top of him arm. I can play the same game too. I turn to face him, his arm still on my waist, both my hands now on his chest. Looking up at him, our eyes meeting in this dark room.

"Aren't you happy?", Stepping closer toward him. His hand slowly dropping no where near my waist anymore– and that's where I step back.

"Looks like you are." I wink at him. His jaw clenching. But his smirk showing up on his face. That god awful face that had to be attractive.

"You thought you won Mads?" That nickname. "Not even close, baby." He steps toward me, his index finger landing on my chin, lifting my head to meet his eyes once again.

"Gray," I say the nickname he hates, knowing I'm the only person that uses it on him, it makes him even more furious. "You're so easy to piss off...baby"

"Been a few months and you still can't get your hands off of me– did I affect you that much?" I reciprocate the smirk he had, now gone on his face.

Leaving him standing, I walk toward Nicole who was now on someone's lap– making out. What happened to my drink?

"Where was the drink you told me you were gonna get?", I get no answer– their tongues slipping on each others lips. Gross.

Walking away from that scenery, I just know she's going to get laid tonight, and I'm well– not. I'm going to end up grabbing an Uber and blasting Taylor Swift songs alone at my dorm. And trust me, it's better than entertaining girls that want to get closer to me because I "know" the star quarterback of Columbia University.

I'm not expecting anything from tonight. Really. I just wanted to have fun after finishing 489 pages of a RomCom book, it's not that it isn't fun, but I want to be fun.

Standing on the staircase, looking at everyone, having their own main character moment– I thought about me coming in here– in this party. I shouldn't be overthinking and being sappy, we're not there for that.

I drop my red cup on the nearest table I saw and went in the middle of the room. Taking my heels off as I dance to the beat of This Is What You Came For by Rihanna.

Slowly raising my arms up and swaying my hips, I let my hair free, instead of letting them stay on my shoulders. Closing my eyes, shutting everyone around me, not caring about a single drama– that's for tomorrow to think about.

My other arm dropping, still dancing to the song. Grabbing my hair up and letting go of it– it may sound dumb, but this is how fun exists to me– not caring. At all.

Not tolerating anyone's bullshit.

Then... the music faded slowly, and I softly opened my eyes with a smile on my face as I see almost all the football players are on the side with their cups in their hand, their mouths slightly open.

They didn't catch my attention though. I'm used to men drooling over women that show the littlest of skin and a skin tight dress. Maybe even me.

What caught my attention is the boy that's leaning on the wall with his arms crossed against his chest. His jaw clenched– his eyes exploring my body, almost as if he's undressing me.

His eyes slowly drew from my legs until it stopped when he met my eyes. Seeing a visible smirk on my on my face– Grayson immedietaly went back to his stoic expression, unclenched his jaw and dropped his arms.

This time– I think I had the bigger ego than him. That where I sent him a wink– he definitely knew the effect I had on him. He looked away from me, moving his eyes to his teammates, their gazes still fixated on me.

The look on his face looked like he wanted to take their eyeballs out. Why? Why the fuck does he look like it bothers him?