"OPEN THIS FOR me?" Greyson asks and holds up the bottle of grape soda I grabbed for him at the grocery store. I take it before he finishes asking, letting him keep his focus on the long stretch of road ahead of us. "Thank you."
I hum as I crack the seal, keeping the cap in my hand before extending the open bottle back to him. I try to ignore the swarm of butterflies that take over my stomach when his fingers brush mine, wishing that I could just get over this crush. "Okay, now, be honest. Would you rather be a zombie or vampire?"
"Depends," he says before taking a sip, and I watch him with a curious look in my eyes. "If I choose zombie, am I going to still be able to play guitar?"
I narrow my eyes, biting down on my bottom lip as I consider his proposition. He holds his drink back out to me to put the cap back on as I answer. "No, no guitar playing zombies in this world. Although, that would be funny to see."
"Okay, then vampire."
"Really? I don't think I could do it," I say, shaking my head. "An eternity?"
"It doesn't sound so bad if you have the right people around," he says, looking towards me. "Besides, I don't think I could give up playing guitar. What about you, Isla?"
"Vampire, definitely," she says from the backseat. "The thought of eating brains is just... disgusting."
"Oh, but drinking blood is okay?" I ask, looking over the seat to meet her eyes. "You would be okay watching the people you love die?"
"I'd just turn them into vampires," Greyson says, shrugging his shoulders. "Vanilla or chocolate?"
"Lame!" I call out, pressing my head into the headrest as I lean back in my seat.
"Come on! It's a fair question, and you have to answer it," he says, pointing at me with a playful look in his eyes. "That was the deal."
"Okay, fine, what are we talking here? Ice cream? Milkshake?"
"Is the answer different for each?"
"No," I laugh. "Vanilla, all the way."
"Really?"
I hum as I nod my head, turning to look at him. "Why? Are you a chocolate person? Because if you are, I think I'll need to formally end this friendship."
He laughs wholeheartedly, and it sends chills up my spine, the rich and warm sound embracing me. "No, definitely prefer vanilla."
"You're both wrong," Isla says. "The only correct answer here is chocolate."
"Absolutely not," I say, shaking my head. "Vanilla ice cream is way better."
Isla shakes her head. "You're both insane."
"Impossible," I say, shooting her a smile as I pull my feet up onto the seat. "Okay, cookie dough or cake?" I ask our next question.
"Easy, cookie dough," Greyson says at the same time Isla says cake.
A laugh falls from my lips as I turn to look at her, seeing the fake hurt look on her face as she rests her hand against her chest. "I don't think he means to offend you, Isla."
"No, I'm taking offence," she says before looking at me. "Let me guess... cookie dough?"
I grin. "He's a man after my own heart."
"You know what's even better?" he asks, and I shake my head, resting my temple against the edge of the seat as I look at him. "Cookie dough ice cream. Best of both worlds."
"Made better by chocolate," Isla sings from the back seat, but it doesn't matter, because Greyson's smiling and I can't not look at him. I shouldn't be this hyper focused on him, but I can't help it. He's everything in this moment. Utterly perfect.
YOU ARE READING
No Promises
RomantizmRobyn's a free-spirit who knows what she wants until she doesn't. Greyson's a musician too afraid to face what he really wants. When a mix up at her university housing department lands her as his roommate, they can make no promises about what happen...