Shattered Asylum

Chapter 6

It's 6:30, and i'm officially stressed. Why did you do this to me, Grandma? She actually wrote our address on a napkin and handed it to him after I refused to give him my number.

Grandma had been pushing for me to wear the brown dress from yesterday, but I wasn't feeling it. Instead, I picked out a white, off-the-shoulder ribbed crop top and matching skirt. My hair, now straightened from it's usual curly state, fell down my back, and I added just enough makeup, tinted eyebrows, mascara, and blush, to look like i'd tried.

Jewelry? Minimal. Shoes? Not happening.

My fuzzy slippers stay on. If I was going to suffer through this evening, I'd at least be comfortable.

Once ready, I went downstairs to help with dinner, hoping the distraaction would calm my nerves.

"Sei carino. Deve piacerti davvero questo ragazzo." (You look cute. You must really like this boy.) Grandma teased as she tasted her sauce, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

My face flushed immediately. Why does everyone think I have a crush on him?!

"No nonna, we are just friends. We've only hung out a few times." I said, trying to shut her down. "Non ci vuole molto per innamorarsi, caro. Io e tuo nonno ci siamo innamorati nel giro di un mese." (Doesn't take long to fall in love dear. Me and your grandpa fell in love within a month.) She walks over and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, like she could physically guide me into romance.

"That may be the case for you, but definitely not for me." My tone was final, though I doubted she believed me. Dating wasn't even a thought for me right now, too much baggage, too many reasons to keep my guard up.

Sure, Grayson might be gorgeous, but his ego was suffocating.

"Qualunque cosa tu dica, amore mio." (Whatever you say, my love.) Grandma gave me a knowing smile, and I managed a small one in return before carrying the salad to the dining room.

As I sit the salad down, a sharp knock comes at the door. My heart does a little somersault as I stand frozen, the sound somehow louder than it should've been. Taking a deep breath, I force myself toward the door.

When I open it, Grayson stands there in a fitted black shirt, gray slacks, and spotless white shoes. His silver necklace gleamed subtly from beneath his shirt, and a Gucci belt sits perfectly on his waist. He looks like he'd walked straight off the cover of GQ.

"Are you going to invite me in or just keep checking me out?" he asks, that smirk firmly in place.

I roll my eyes, scoffing, and step aside. As he passes, the scent of Amberwood, vanilla, and some fresh note I can't place hits me like a freight train.

That small could make any girl feral.

"You look pretty," he said, his voice dipping as his eyes linger.. not on my face.

I ignore the compliment. "Come on, I'll show you where we'll be eating." As I turn to lead him to the dining room, I hear him chuckle softly. The sound makes me want to punch a wall.

The dining room was more formal than necessary, with a long table and far too many chairs for just the three of us. "You can sit wherever," I said, avoiding his gaze. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water's fine, thanks."

I move to the kitchen to grab glasses, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.

"So," his voice is closer now, "Where's your room?"

I give a dry laugh. "Somewhere you'll never be."

"We'll see about that."