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My unwashed and unwaxed car stands out like a homeless child at a fancy ball.
“Why?” His seemingly genuine confusion makes my blood boil. Didn’t he hear anything I said? Maybe God made him stupid. Or maybe he got hit by polo balls once too often. Regardless, I’m not letting his lack of IQ get in the way of maintaining my GPA.
That will get her to her point much quicker than my telling her Harvard isn’t that desirable. Massachusetts is cold and disgusting. How am I going to ride my horses when the ground is muddy with slush?
Most of the mothers get along, but mine has a personality conflict, especially with Huxley’s mom. Not sure why. Jeremiah is a sensible woman.
Mom has a two-hundred-plus IQ. Everything bores her, and Harvard wouldn’t be an exception.
–Me: Mom, all of New England comes with atrocious weather.
“The bet to see who can sleep with Aspen before the semester’s over.”
There’s another reason I quit going to his class, other than the guaranteed A. I don’t want to see his slimy face with a bad nose job. I mean, no nose could look that ugly naturally. He must’ve found a plastic
surgeon offering a fifty-percent-off coupon.
–Grant: We can do better than canned soup. For variety. He sends me a picture of canned spinach. The caption reads: If it’s good enough for Popeye, it’s good enough for you. I laugh.
My grandparents start laughing for some reason. Grandpa actually wipes a tear from one eye. “Aspen, little darling, love comes when you
least expect it, not when you’re ready.” “Exactly.” Grandma nods. “If it comes only when it’s convenient, then it isn’t love.”
Thank God Will and Heath are out of town. They’d ruin the moment. Especially Heath, who would have a temper tantrum because he’s still bitter that she wouldn’t sleep with him. I wouldn’t sleep with him either if I were a girl. Guys like him are the reason women have vibrators.
“You know horses weigh, like, two tons, right?” “Starfire actually weighs a little more.” Her lips tighten. “I don’t think that’s something to smile about.” “Sure it is. She’s a healthy girl.”
“I think my lips have a concussion.”
Does it make me a perv that watching her take charge is turning me on?
“I already know everything.” “Either you’re super arrogant or super smart. Which is it?” I ask jokingly, expecting him to say super smart. “Do I have to pick one?” He laughs and shrugs. “I’m serious—I already know most of what they’re teaching here.”
“Why do people think love is special?” I stop for a second, realizing maybe love isn’t the best analogy. But it slipped out, and it’s going to be weird if I try to take it back. “Why do we make thousands of movies and stories and books about it?” “Because they’re profitable,” he says. “No. Because love is rare, which makes it special. Some people never even get to experience it before they die.” “If they never do, how do they know they’re missing anything?” “I think part of their soul longs for it. They know, deep inside, the other half of their soul is out there.”
Must be the days spent in Boston. The weather was terrible out there, all those gray clouds hanging low, heavy with rain or snow. There’s no telling in a city that can have a massive blizzard as late as April.
Fuckers. I should dump more work on them. If they have time to stare at her ass, they have time to do another financial model.
“I’ll make sure all my watches and clocks are set to the Grant Time Zone.”
What’s even hotter is that she’s kissing me back, aggressively—like she wants to devour me and hurt me at the same time.
She shrugs. “I enjoy my vibrator, but I don’t kiss it afterward.”
“Can your vibrator do this? Fuck you hard until you come again?” I ask.
I came three times inside her, until my brain basically turned into oatmeal, so why do I continue to obsess about her?
Grant grips my hips and drives into me in one swift stroke. I gasp, stunned that he’s already rock-hard again—and that having him back inside me feels even better than before.
“What if I hate you?” she demands. “It doesn’t matter. I still love you. I’ll never, ever leave you to be alone.”
I turn my focus back to her. “I know you don’t believe me, but I want you to know you’re my everything. I remember every second of our time together. I was riding Starfire when you chased me on the polo field. We danced to ‘La cumparsita’ for the first time, and again when we were in Malibu on that rainy night.”
He sits next to me. He smells amazing, clean and woodsy. “I’ve never brought a woman into this bedroom. Actually, nobody’s really been allowed in my home except the staff, my brothers…and my mom that one time.”
“They’re to mark each year I was away from you. There are fourteen total.”
“I’m never going to leave your side,” he whispers somberly. “I’m always going to be there for you. I’m going to prove myself to you even if I have to walk across broken glass to do it.”
“I’m pretty sure it was women bidding.” “I don’t care,” he says stubbornly. “I couldn’t imagine somebody else wearing them. They were for you, and you only. Jesus, we danced in one of them. I peeled you out of it when we had sex for the first time.”
However, he still acts like I was playing hopscotch on a rickety bridge over molten lava.
“Grant,” she murmurs into my ear. “Mmm?” I speak just as softly, luxuriating in the feel of her in my arms. I could stay like this forever and die a happy man. “I love you.”
