Whispers Of The Heart

Chapter 17

Emery Rose

"Youre okay?" Grayson's sudden concern caught me off guard, and as he gently grasped my arm, I couldn't help but be transported back to a time when this gesture felt comforting and familiar. Memories of being fourteen, seeking solace and favors from Grayson, flooded my mind. Back then, his touch was reassuring, a sign of his unwavering support.

But now, everything felt different. Now, his touch sent a shiver down my spine, stirring up a strange, unsettling feeling that I couldn't quite put into words

And then there was the unexpected sight of Grayson shirtless.

My eyes couldn't help but betray me, stealing a glance at his toned physique before snapping back up to his face. Heat flooded my cheeks as I struggled to push aside the distraction and focus on the matter at hand.

"I'm... Im fine" I forced out the words, my voice strained with the effort of masking the turmoil brewing within me. "I need a ride."

I could feel Grayson's concern radiating from him, his furrowed brow and tightened grip on my arm betraying his worry. Despite the tension between us, I couldn't deny the flicker of gratitude I felt for his concern.

"Where to?"

"To Justin's house" I I replied, the words heavy with resignation and a tinge of bitterness. Deep down, I knew exactly what awaited me there. Justin's house was often the scene of impromptu gatherings, especially when his mom was working late. With her working, it was practically an open invitation for Justin to host his teammates for a night of revelry.

And here I was, about to intrude on their fun and rain on their parade.

I watched as Grayson's expression darkened with frustration, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between us. It dawned on me that my request was an imposition, especially considering the late hour. I couldn't expect him to drop everything for me, no matter how kind he had been the night before.

Grayson's jaw clenched, and I instantly regretted my words, wishing I could take them back. I knew I had crossed a line, and the guilt weighed heavily on my conscience.

Why had I even asked for his help in the first place? I should have known better than to burden him with my problems. But in my desperation, I had acted impulsively, seeking solace in the familiarity of Grayson's presence without considering the consequences of my actions.

""You know what... never mind, I can walk" I mumbled, my voice barely audible as I attempted to retreat from the situation, to escape the consequences of my own selfishness. But Grayson's grip on my arm remained firm.

I glanced back at him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and regret. His eyes bore into mine, searching for something I couldn't quite articulate. And then, as if sensing my unease, his grip softened ever so slightly, a silent reassurance that he wasn't going to let me slip away.

"Um, I can't leave if you don't let go," I pointed out.

"Don't go," he urged "I'll get the keys."

"You don't have to-"

But before I could finish my protest, Grayson turned on his heel and left without a word, leaving the door wide open behind him.

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the impulse to follow him and the desire to retreat into the safety of my own solitude. But curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself stepping over the threshold, just a little bit, and into the familiar surroundings of Grayson's childhood home.

It had been years since I had set foot in this house, and yet the memories came flooding back with startling clarity.

The hallway lights were off, casting eerie shadows across the walls, but the soft glow of the kitchen illuminated the path ahead. My eyes drifted to the pictures hanging from the hallway wall, a silent testament to the family that had once lived here. But something was missing – there was no trace of Grayson's father, his image conspicuously absent from the wall.