Graham (Scandalous Boys Book 2) (16 page)

I nod. “I’m not going to hurt her, Mrs. Issac.”

“Good.”

Sarah comes bustling down the stairs just in time. She looks over at me then down at herself. She looks me up and down and then glances down at herself. “Um … I should go change real fast. I feel overdressed.”

I want to tell her hell no. She looks like a delectable dessert. I just want to devour her mouth and work my way down. At the same time, I want to say sure. Maybe it will give me some time to calm the raging hard-on she just gave me. “I think you look fine. But if you really want to change I can wait.”

She glances down at herself once more and shrugs. “Eh. I’m too hungry to go back up there and change into some jeans.”

I stand up and readjust myself while pretending to straighten out my shirt. I walk over to her and take her all in. God, she’s really gorgeous. Her hair is all pinned up and curled at the ends. Her blue eyes seem to sparkle like the ocean.

I don’t think I want dinner anymore. All I really want is her. Underneath me. Begging me to do wild and wicked things to her. Damn it. I better stop these thoughts. They’re not helping the already uncomfortable situation happening in my pants.

I lead her out to the car and open the door for her. Sarah smiles. “Thanks.”

I keep staring at her even though she’s already in my car.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing.” I grin. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sarah

We arrive at DiGoronia’s, a little Italian restaurant two towns over. The smell of garlic butter wafts outside, practically drawing in anyone in a ten-mile radius. My mouth waters.

Graham’s hand slides to my lower back and stays there as we walk up to the fancy entrance. It doesn’t leave even as he opens the door for me, and I admit the whole thing makes me shiver with delight. He’s the only guy who’s ever opened doors for me who wasn’t a valet. If I really think about it, he’s the only guy who’s actually held my hand in public.

I look up at him with a smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks as we approach the hostess.

“I don’t know. Giving me a second chance, I guess.”

He nods. “Two please,” he says to the voluptuous blond.

She beams him a bright smile and picks up two menus from the stack behind her. “Follow me.” I can’t help but notice how much swish she has in her hips as she walks us toward a booth. I glance over at Graham, and his eyes are surprisingly on me, not the girl’s ass.

“Your server will be right with you,” she says to Graham and winks.

Again he doesn’t seem to notice, just nods, now staring at the leather menu in front of him. I almost laugh. She is seriously flirting with him hard-core and not giving a crap that I’m right here. She frowns a bit and walks off. That’s right, honey, keep walking.

“So what are you in the mood for?” he asks as his eyes meet mine.

“I don’t know. I can tell you that girl was in the mood for a piece of you.”

He raises a brow. “Are you jealous?”

I huff. “Please. Do I need to be?”

“You are jealous.” He laughs. “It’s actually kind of adorable. You crinkle your nose a bit, and your cheeks turn pink. But you don’t have to worry. I’m looking at what I want.”

“Yeah?” I ask with a smirk.

“Yup. So what are you thinking about getting? Spaghetti, Alfredo, the ravioli? I’m not really a fan of ravioli, but I hear it’s great here.”

I glance at the menu. “I think I want some fettuccine.”

“Good choice. I’m going to get the chicken parmesan.”

“Mmm. That sounds good too.”

A small girl with light brown hair in need of a retouch to her blond highlights comes over to our table. She looks up from her pad, and her eyes widen when they land on Graham. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asks. Her tone is bitter and full of venom.

“Um … Sorry, do I know you?” he asks.

“Seriously?” She looks over at me. “This one is an asshole!” She looks between the two of us again and then snorts. “I thought you didn’t do the whole dating thing?”

“Graham?” I say. This girl is making me nervous. As if any second now she’s going to go all postal and chop both of us into pieces and stick our remains in jars or something.

He glares at the girl. “I’m sorry, I do not know what you are talking about. But clearly you’re making me and my girlfriend really uncomfortable. So, can we have another person wait on us?”

“You want … She’s your … Ha. Ha. Ha. Wow, freaking classic. You know what? I don’t know what you did to get this one to date you, but kudos to you.” She turns to me. “He’s mostly famous for one-night stands and never being heard from again.” She turns back to Graham. “I hope your dick shrivels up and falls off, you freaking asshole!”

She stomps off, and I look at Graham. His eyebrows are drawn together, and he’s glaring at his menu.

“Um … Do you care to explain that?” I ask.

He looks up. “Not really. But it looks like I’m going to have to. This summer and most of my time at school, I had a lot of one-night stands. It was always a certain type. Something about them reminded me of … It doesn’t matter. I used them to try to get over something else. It didn’t work. The only thing it ended up doing was leaving a trail of … well, that. Crazy girls wanting more.”

Well, this just got really awkward. Graham basically turned into a gigantic male whore while I’ve only had three dates since we broke up. I don’t know if I’m mad, jealous, or just shocked. And none of those dates of mine got more than a kiss.

A male approaches our table and says, “Hi, I’m Fred. I’ll be waiting on you this evening. Can I start you two off with something to drink?”

“I’d like a water with lemon, please,” I say.

“Same. Thanks.”

The guy leaves, and Graham and I remain silent.

Finally he clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I level my stare with his.

“Everything.”

I nod. “I’m sorry too. You bring out things in me that scare me.”

“You do the same for me. I blew through a lot of girls trying to fill some void, but the thing is, none of them could. Not one.”

I want to smile at his words. I also want to run from this table. He can’t be feeling this for me. I’m screwed up, damaged goods. My parents are in jail. I’m basically an orphan and have nothing. There’s still so much crap I have to make up for in my past bullshit. How in the hell can he honestly sit across from me with burning want in his gaze? I cheated on him.

Fluttering my lashes to help hold back the swarm of tears welling in my eyes, I shake my head. “I’m a horrible person.”

“Why do you say that?”

I look out the window connected to our booth. “Graham, I’ve done mean shit to a lot of people, including you. I’m not proud of it, but I’m trying to fix it.”

“But you fixing it doesn’t make you a horrible person.” I feel his fingertips brush along my hand. I turn, and he smiles. “Terrible people let others clean up their messes.”

“Doesn’t make me a saint either, Graham.”

He laughs. “Babe, have you met me? I’m not a good boy. I smoked pot on the daily up until a month or so ago. I drank all the time. And apparently I ruined at least one waitress’s life. But I want to do better when I’m around you.”

“What do you mean?”

He squeezes my hand. “Man, before you showed up at Madison’s house last year, I was all about the next party. School was set. Winning state for baseball was in the bag. Girls, they came and went, no big deal. But you. Fuck, when I saw you, I had to impress you. And being me wasn’t impressive. So I cut back on the smoking and drinking. I didn’t give a shit where the next party was, I just wanted to hang out with you.”

I snort. “Then I screwed it all up.”

“Maybe. I’m not all peachy-keen on what went down. But maybe I had a hand in it too. I didn’t exactly wine and dine you like I should have.”

“I didn’t … I never needed that.”

He smiles. “Maybe not, but you deserved it.”

Cheating on him was really the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I can’t have him thinking it was his fault. The blame is mine. I blink. “My situation with my parents going to jail, then all my future plans going to shit … Then you come along, this sweet and great guy. A type of person I’d never encountered, and I started liking it. Feeling special and wanted, not the girl from the news, whose parents are a bunch of asshats. One night … ”

“One night what?”

I shouldn’t tell him, but I need to. No one knows this, not even Madison, and trust me, over the last couple of months my reasons for hurting Graham have come up a bit. I just never told her the full story of what lead me to my actions.

“I had a dream. I was in Madison’s bedroom waiting for everyone. You, Kyle, Madison … and I didn’t understand what I was really waiting for. Was it someone’s birthday? Were we about to surprise someone? Then Auntie Heather came in and said, ‘Sarah, we love you, but it’s time to move out. Everyone is graduated and has their own place except you.’ Then I woke up. That scared me. Without you, who was I? Would I ever leave? Would I wait around for you while you went off to school? I just … It freaked me out. I knew if I told you, then you would say it was a silly dream. And I would have believed you.”

We don’t say anything for a few more moments. The waiter returns with our drinks, takes our food order, and leaves us again. I feel Graham’s gaze on me. He probably thinks I’m ridiculous. I refuse to look up, though, for fear of what I might see.

He needs to say something first. Why is he so quiet? I ruined it. I knew the truth would ruin this again. How stupid can I be?

A throat clears, and it draws my attention to him. He smiles. “Next time you have a crazy dream, will you just tell me?”

“Okay.”

“And for the record, I think that was your body’s way of projecting your inner fears. And at the time, had you come to me, I probably would have said it was a silly dream. But now I’m telling you that no matter what happens I’m here. If you do find yourself all alone, you’re not. Because I can’t stay away from you, Sarah.”

I swipe my hand under my eyes and smile. “Thank you.”

“Babe, don’t cry.”

“They’re happy tears. I swear.”

He laughs. “Better be. Otherwise this will go down as the worst date in the history of mankind. First a crazy one-night stand is our waitress, then I make my date cry. I mean, shit, I’m scoring all kinds of bad marks.”

“Yeah you are,” I tease.

The waiter arrives with our food, and it smells delicious. Once he asks us if we need anything else and we tell him no, he saunters off.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Graham

After our dinner, I drive Sarah home.

Tonight was a close call. I mean, the waitress thing was sort of a disaster, and for a moment I thought that was the girl from the video. My blood chilled the second she laid into me about being an asshole. I keep putting off telling Sarah the full reason I’m not in school. And every day feels more and more like a test.

“Sarah, I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Is it going to make me sad or happy?”

I pull into the drive and put the car in park. Shifting my body slightly to face her, I sigh. “Probably sad and really disappointed. Well, more like mad as hell at me.”

She thinks on this for a second and says, “I don’t want to know then.” She leans in and brushes her lips over mine.

I want to deepen the kiss but feel too exposed in the driveway. Especially when the damn porch light pops on. I pull back and glance over at the house. Mr. Issac’s glare is on my car. Jesus, you’d figure I’d finally get used to it, but it still freaks me out. The man scares the piss out of me. The worse part is he’s not even her father, but he looks like he’ll murder me all the same.

“Your uncle is staring at us,” I whisper.

Sarah looks up at the house and then rolls her eyes. “Wow. I sort of wondered why Madison and Bryce never hold hands around him. Now, I get it.”

“I bet Bryce shit his pants when he asked him for her hand. I mean, your uncle could give a bodybuilder nightmares. Especially when he talks about the shit he learned from his grandpa. That’s one person I never want to cross.”

She giggles. “I guess we should say good night then. I don’t want you to end up at the bottom of a lake somewhere.”

I kiss her again and then get out and go around the car. I open her door and walk her up to the porch. As much as I want to kiss her up here, I don’t. Mr. Issac is totally giving me the “I’ll fuck you up, boy” stare. And even though I might love getting lost fusing my mouth to Sarah’s, I love living with my balls intact more.

“Good night.”

“Night.” She smiles and then enters the house.

I don’t rush to get back to my car, but I certainly don’t lollygag either. As soon as I open the driver’s side door I hear another door close. I dart my attention back to the Issacs’ house. Mrs. Issac is coming down the steps carrying a tray of something.

“Graham, wait a second, hon. I’ve got something for you.” She hands me a cookie tray filled with all my favorites.

“I made a bunch of cookies today. I knew these were your favorite.”

I smile. “They certainly are. Thanks, Mrs. Issac.”

“You’re welcome. We like having you around. Don’t be a stranger. Your mom told me you had a little trouble in school and that’s why you’re back home. I want to let you know that it happens.”

Mom must have told her the same bullshit story she’s been telling anyone who asks why I’m here. And I’d wish more than anything—at the risk of looking like a complete dipshit—that her version was the truth. But it’s not. I actually had decent grades before my incident. There are many times I wish I could remember that night. Then there are times that I don’t want to know the full details.

I nod once and slip into my car.

***

I’m pushing it. Well, cutting it very close. My AA session starts in two minutes, and I’m literally three away. I hope this doesn’t count against my hours.