Broken Girls And Broken Boys

Chapter Twenty Five: I hate that I can't trust him.

I roll over in the comfortable bed, my arm hitting my night stand which always gets in the way when I'm sleeping.

Especially when I'm hung over.

I groan, not bothering to move my hand now I've found a new comfortable position. Light is streaming in from the room, causing a red picture to be painted behind my eyes.

Since when is my room so light?

My arm lands on my face, and I rub my cheek and eye in an attempt of waking myself up. My legs stretch out, taking in the glorious space of my bed until I hit a rock.

No, not a rock.

I slide my leg up the hard object and let out a yell when someone mutters, "Sunshine, you're insanely close to my dick right now. It's making me uncomfortable." My eyes instantly open to a bright light sifting into the room- its casts a golden light, almost like a halo, on the face of Grant Mitchell. My eyes survey the situation- this is not my bedroom and my arm was not lounging on my night stand considering its still resting on a chest and the chest that I am touching is topless and extremely muscular. My brain suddenly registers the scene and I jump up from his bed, banging my leg in the process, and let out another yell.

"You're lucky my family are away because otherwise I'd be in serious shit," Grant mumbles lazily, running a hand through his dark tousled hair. Even his bed hair looks good, how is that fair?

Another thing I can't understand is how casual his is about this situation. 

Rather than blush heavily, I push back the heat and  revert to the next best thing- a catty comment. "Do you bring your little hoes round to your room then?"

Grant rolls his eyes, shifting on his bed so he's facing me fully. "No- I'm not allowed girls in my bedroom. Count yourself lucky sweetheart." He punctuates his line with a wink, causing me to sigh deeply and throw an eye roll in his direction. Grant runs his eyes idly down my frame and I stare at him blankly before glancing down at myself to find I'm wearing his t-shirt and some pants.

That is all.

As quickly as I can- with another yelp- I grab one of his blankets and wrap it around myself, trying to be as modest as I can.

I'm trying to keep my dignity. Though I can't say it's working very well.

My mind is thrumming heavily and I'm unsure whether it's my hangover or something else. "Did we-" I gasp, tears beginning to well in my eyes. "Did we sleep together?" the words are just a whisper but they cause Grant to sit up suddenly, his eyes wide. Long gone is the smirking boy who was finding my awkwardness amusing. 

"No, Kendall. God no! I wouldn't let your first time be a drunken mistake."

First time?

Surely this boy would've realised now that I am not a virgin.

Not that I've told him much about myself.

A part of me still doesn't trust Grant with the stories that come with being a part of my life.

"What do you mean, let me?" The words tumble out of my mouth and I'm relieved that I didn't give up my secret.

I hate that I can't trust him.

A blush begins to rise up his face as he musters out a response. "Well...uh...you may have tried to-get me-into bed with you. You said you wanted me...um and you tried to kiss me-and strip naked."

A hot blush rises to my cheeks in an instant and I groan. Grant jumps up from the bed when he catches the tears glistening in my eyes.

"Kendall, it's not that bad," he tries to wrap an arm around me but I push him back. Nausea sweeps me off my feet and I race over to the bin next to his untidy desk.