No Promises

chapter eighteen

I TRY TO keep my focus on Jonas, but it's impossible. Greyson showing up at the coffee shop has left me fuming, unable to stop myself from thinking the worst. Just when I think I have everything figured out, it all comes tumbling down, and he's the tipping point. I thought I understood him, but he's been nothing but confusing since I moved in.

When Jonas drops me off, I debate not even going upstairs. I don't know if I want to face Greyson, because I'm not sure what to expect. Something is going on, and he won't tell me what, but it clearly has to do with me and we can't keep living like this. Avoiding each other to avoid talking about it. It just isn't working anymore. We're intertwined now. At least for a little while longer until a room comes available.

I'm suddenly wishing none of this had happened in the first place as I push my key into the deadbolt, unlocking the apartment door. I feel like I'm in a game, and I'm losing—hard.

I don't know what I'm expecting when I open the door, but the apartment appears to be empty. And for whatever reason, that makes me mad. Maybe he really is trying to avoid whatever it is he won't tell me, and there is something. I've tried to ignore it, but I can't. Not anymore. There's something going on and he's going to have to tell me, one way or another.

We can't keep pretending.

Taking a steady breath, I shut the door behind me and lock it before walking towards my room. My gaze going to the light bleeding out from under Greyson's bedroom door, and I swallow as I stop in front of his door. I don't know what I'm going to say, but I can't back out now. With another second passing, I raise my fist and pound on the door until it whips open to a very shirtless Greyson. I immediately swallow at the sight of him and the low cut sweats hanging off his hips, letting my gaze lift to meet his eyes.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, playing dumb with me.

"Really? You just expect me to believe it was a coincidence that you showed up at the same coffee shop we were at?" I question.

"Yes."

"Well, too bad," I say and take a step back. "I don't."

"I don't know what to tell you then," he says as he moves passed me, taking the steps down into the living room. "It's the truth."

I shake my head as I follow him down. "Greyson, what's going on? You've been acting weird ever since I started seeing Jonas."

"You're clearly imagining things."

"No! Don't do that. Don't make it out to be like this is all in my head." I frown. "Something is going on that you aren't telling me, and I want to know. You said you were fine with me seeing Jonas. I asked you."

"I am fine."

"You're clearly not." I stare at him. "I thought we were friends."

There's a moment where I think he's going to say he's changed his mind. That he was wrong in calling us friends, and when he looks at me, I can see the guilt swimming in his eyes. There is something there. Something he's keeping from me and I immediately feel my stomach tighten, the spot over my ribs aching in anticipation.

"We are friends, Robyn."

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Greyson, if you won't tell me what's going on, I can't fix it," I say. "Is it Jonas? Did you change your mind about him?"

"Would it even matter if I had?"

"Yes, it matters," I say before sighing. "Of course, it matters."

He doesn't say anything and just looks at me as he sits on the armrest of the couch, resting his hands on his thighs and I'm sure this is it. He's going to tell me something that I don't want to hear. He'll tell me that it really is nothing, and I'm overthinking—again.

Instead, nothing comes out. He sits quietly, like the words got caught in his throat.

"Grey, do you want me to stop seeing Jonas?" I ask.

"If I say yes?"

"Then I stop seeing him."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." I nod. "You let me stay here when I had nowhere to go, and I don't want to do anything to hurt you. So... if you really have a problem with it, I'll end it."

Silence fills the space between us, my heart racing in my chest. This is his chance to tell me the truth, to tell me what my heart has been hoping he'd say for weeks.

"I have a problem with it."

I blink once, unsure I heard him correctly, but I did. He really said he had a problem with it, and I don't know what to do with that information. I hadn't expected him to admit it out loud.

"Okay," I say and reach for my pocket in search of my phone. "I'll end it then."

He nods and my lips press together as the corners turn up, taking a step back towards the stairs. The knot in my stomach eases slightly as I reach my bedroom door. I don't know what else he could say, or if there's even anything I want him to say.

"Wait, Robyn," he says as he gets up, taking the small set of stairs two at a time until he stands in front of me. "You don't... don't end it on my account. I can get on board with it."

"Oh," I say, my stomach dropping. He's taking it back. "Okay... are you sure?"

"Yeah," he says. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting, but you shouldn't break up with him because of me. I just... I don't know really, but don't do it because of me."

"Okay..." I say. "I won't."

"Okay." He smiles weakly as he takes a step backwards, towards his room. "Okay."

"Okay." I nod, swallowing as he steps into his room and shuts the door behind him. I'm left in the hollowness of his words as I step into my door, resting my backed against the suddenly cold wood. I don't know why it hurts so much for him to take the words back.

There's a path of steps we've been taking to put space between us, and this feels like the last step. The thing that confirms Greyson's never been interested in me. Part of me feels like I've made this narrative in my head, that there never was any hope for the two of us. And part of me knows it wasn't in my head. We had these moments, this heart crushing kind.

It had to be real.

It couldn't have all been a dream.

Maybe I am just as delusional as I feel right now. It hurts more than I want it to as I open the door to my room and step inside, walking around like a ghost as I change out of my clothes and into my pajamas before crawling under the covers. I want this all to be a nightmare.

I feel unwell, but I'm not crazy.

He didn't look at me like I was his friend. It was something more. It had to be something more because if it wasn't, then I'm no better than the high school girl that stumbled over her words when he looked at her. He has this power over me, a power I'm not even sure he's aware he's in possession of.

He could break me.

I gave him that power the moment he said I could stay. He opened his home to me, and it was like giving me a safe place to rest my heart at, and I wasn't even aware of it because this isn't just a crush anymore. It's more than that. This feeling, this undying need to be more, it's the feeling of falling for someone I can't have. He's just an inch out of my reach, and I'm not sure it's ever been possible for me to catch him.

My heart aches in my chest as I try my hardest to focus my thoughts on the ceiling. I want for everything to be okay between us. I want to be able to look at him and not feel my heart break. I want more than anything to be able to look at him and not find the entire world in his eyes.

I just want for my heart to be okay again.