The Gray Effect - Chapter 24: Chapter 24

S O P H I A H O N E Y
MY BODY WAKES up on its own, which is weird since I always rely on my phone alarm. But today, it seems like my body decided to take matters into its own hands.
My eyes blink open slowly, and a yawn slips past my lips. I don't even bother panicking when I realize I'm not in my room-because the memories of yesterday come rushing back in an instant, and I groan.
I try to shift, but I can't.
A firm hand tightens around my waist, and something hard presses against my ass. Oh. Right. Is this going to be my life now? Feeling his dick every time I just wanted a picture of him shirtless?
I sigh. Well, there are worse ways to make money, I guess. I just have to get used to it without freaking the hell out. Right?
Aside from his hand and... other body parts holding me in place, I glance down and see his leg draped over mine, further pinning me under him. His slow, warm breaths brush against the back of my neck-his nose definitely buried there. At least he's not snoring.
I have no issue staying still-until his lips graze my neck.
Heat pools in my stomach. That shouldn't be happening.
And then he does it again.
I inhale sharply, my body going rigid. My chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, but my head is a mess. His scent clings to the pillow beneath me, making it even harder to focus. Slowly, carefully, I reach for his hand, prying it off my waist and silently praying he doesn't wake up.
He doesn't. Thank God.
Next, I attempt to escape his entire body. He's warm against my back, the heat of his bare skin seeping through my shirt. But I ignore it, shifting forward inch by inch, hoping I'm actually making progress.
It works. He rolls onto his back, freeing me.
And his morning wood is... right there.
Ignoring the sight that just burned itself into my retinas, I take a moment to study him. He looks... peaceful. More relaxed than I've ever seen him. His features are relaxed, his breathing deep and even. The dark circles under his eyes are still there, but his body seems at ease, like he's actually getting rest.
Is this why he wanted me here?
To be his human experiment? To see if he could actually sleep with someone next to him? If that's the case, he should find someone more willing-someone who doesn't have to battle an internal monologue before even lying next to him.
But that's the weird part, isn't it?
I felt calm last night. Our conversation was stupid and ridiculous, yet somehow, I fell asleep. I let him hold me.
My eyes drift downward, taking in the way the dim light catches on his bare skin. And then an idea sparks.
Carefully, I slip off the bed and tiptoe to my room, rummaging through my things until I find my camera.
This is my only chance. If I take the picture now, I won't have to deal with his teasing if he wakes up.
I return to his room, and he's still in the same position. His lips are slightly parted now, his breathing steady. I step toward the curtains and pull them open, letting sunlight flood the room.
A low groan escapes him as he turns onto his stomach, his back now facing me. He grabs the pillow I slept on and shoves it over his head, like it'll somehow block out the light.
The sun gleams against his skin, and for a second, it almost looks like his back is glowing.
Definitely just my imagination.
I shake off the thought and approach the bed, positioning my camera just right. My knees press into the edge of the mattress as I frame the shot, making sure to capture the mess of his ruffled hair and the way the light hits his back.
Then-click.
Shit. I forgot to silence the camera.
My eyes squeeze shut automatically, like my body already knows I fucked up before my brain can even process it. For a few seconds, I hold my breath, waiting, listening. There's a slight shift on the bed, but when I peek through my lashes, he's still sleeping.
Oh, thank fuck.
Wasting no time, I snap a few more pictures, angling the camera in every way possible just in case Tory decides she wants a different shot. By the time I'm done, he hasn't moved an inch.
Damn. He really needs sleep, doesn't he?
For a brief second, I wonder if he has hockey practice today. If I should wake him up.
The thought makes me scowl.
Am I seriously worrying about him now?
No. Absolutely not.
I shake off the ridiculous thought and sit up on the bed, my back facing him as I scroll through the pictures. One of them is a little too dark, so I adjust the lighting, smiling as I imagine all the things I could buy with the money Tory's going to pay me.
I keep reviewing the shots, making sure everything looks good. Just as I'm about to adjust another shot-the one that catches his waist down to his legs-I hear a voice from behind me.
"Reduce my ass, would you?" His voice is hoarse from sleep, deep and rough. "It's too big for my liking."
I don't even think-I scream. Like, full-on, bloodcurdling scream. My body jerks so hard I fall flat on my ass, and the camera flies from my hands.
For a second, I don't even care where it lands. No crash, no breaking sound. Good. It's safe.
Unlike my dignity.
Laying on the floor, absolutely humiliated, I hear him chuckle. "Are you alright?" His voice is still thick with sleep, but there's a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Like he wants to tease me but is holding back.
I glare at him. Hard. "Does it look like I'm alright, hmm, Gray?"
He shrugs. "You look good to me, honey." He stretches his arms over his head and I hate how my eyes shamelessly watch how his biceps flexes-tracing the movement until I see his left hand-holding my camera.
Oh, hell no.
"First of all, never call me honey." I straighten up, planting a knee on the bed. "And second, give me my camera back."
I reach for it, but he doesn't even acknowledge my hand. Instead, he tilts the screen toward me. "I think you made this edit too bright."
I squint at it. "It's fine like that."
"But, honey-"
"Don't ever call me that!" I grab the nearest pillow and start whacking him with it, ignoring his chuckles. He barely flinches, just watching me with that stupid amused glint in his eyes. Those ridiculous eyes. Mocking me. Enjoying this.
What color are his eyes anyway? blue? Gray? I don't care. I just want to poke them out.
"Why can't I?" He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow. His head tilts, and a few strands of messy hair fall over his forehead. "Hmm?"
I gulp."I don't like it."
"I don't like it when you call me Gray either."
I scoff. "You think I don't know that?"
"Oh, I know you do, Soph." His voice drops slightly, his lazy smirk deepening as he says my name.
And I swallow.
No. Nope. Not happening.
"Stop calling me Gray and I'll stop calling you that. Deal?"
Yeah, no. That's a deal I'll happily decline.
"Must everything be a deal with you?" I groan, already so over it.
"I guess so." His eyes flick back to the camera, brows furrowing slightly. "Huh. Funny."
I narrow my eyes. "What's funny?"
He doesn't answer. Just stares harder at the screen, lips pressing together.
Something is definitely wrong.
"Gray," I say, trying to peek over his shoulder, but he angles the camera away.
He suddenly stands up and moves around his room, his expression unreadable. "Huh. Weird. Can't seem to find the pictures."
For a second, my brain pauses, trying to understand what he means.
And when it does. My blood boils.
"Are you shitting me right now?"
I jump out of his bed and move towards him, but the asshole jumps back on the bed, grinning.
"Give me the camera, Gray!" I don't have time for this game of his.
He tuts, shaking his head like I'm a misbehaving child. "Who's been teaching you how to curse, honey?" His smirk deepens. "Cursing doesn't suit your mouth."
"I don't give a fuck what you're saying right now. Just-"
I bite my lip, cutting myself off because I don't even know how to finish that sentence. My fists clench at my sides as I force myself to think rationally.
Losing my shit won't help.
"Hand me the camera," I say, voice firm. Then, after a beat, I add, "Theo."
His brows lift slightly at the name, but instead of complying like a normal person, he smirks.
"Where's your please?"
I blink. "What?"
Theo shifts, kneeling on the bed so we're at eye level, and repeats my words back to me in an exaggerated tone.
"'Hand me the camera, Theo.'" He tilts his head. "You didn't say please."
This. This exact bullshit is what I was trying to avoid in the first place.
He always finds a way to get under my skin-to push me to the point of wanting to rip my own hair out and force-feed it to him.
I exhale slowly, forcing my irritation down. "Is that necessary?"
"Of course it is," he says, all innocence, like he's just imparting some wisdom onto me. "Didn't they teach you that if you want something, you should say please?"
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Of course they did.
But I'm pretty sure that rule doesn't apply when I'm asking for something that's already mine.
I exhale sharply through my nose, already regretting every life choice that led me to this moment.
"I am not playing this game with you." I tell him.
"Oh, but you already are, honey."
I exhale sharply through my nose, fists tightening. "Theo..."
"Honey..."
"I swear to God-"
"Nope, not God. Just Theo. Now, let's try again," he says, sitting back comfortably against his headboard. "All you have to do is say-"
I groan. "This is too early for a headache."
"Then just say it and end your suffering."
I scowl at him. He just grins.
Fine. Whatever. I just want my camera back.
"Please."
His head tilts. "Huh?"
I narrow my eyes. "Theo-"
"Sorry, didn't catch that. What did you say?" He cups a hand around his ear. "Speak up, honey."
That's it.
"PLEASE!" I shout, arms flailing. "There! Happy now?!"
He grins, stretching like this whole exchange didn't just shave five years off my life, then-finally, finaly-gets off the bed. I stand my ground as he strolls toward me, the camera hanging loosely in his grip.
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
He stops right in front of me and holds it out.
My fingers just barely graze the camera when-
His palm lands on my head.
I freeze.
Every muscle in my body locks up as warmth spreads from the spot where his hand rests, fingers firm yet light, like he's done this a million times before. Like it's normal. Like it's nothing.
But it's not nothing.
Not to me.
Then, before I can even process what the hell is happening, he leans in, his breath warm against my ear.
"Good girl."
The words slide down my spine like a slow drag of heat, pooling in my stomach in a way I absolutely refuse to acknowledge.
My fingers twitch. My lips part slightly, but no sound comes out because my brain? Yeah, it just completely short-circuited.
Did he-did he really just-?
I blink rapidly, trying to reboot my system, but it's useless.
Because the second I even think about reacting, he's already gone, slipping into the bathroom like he didn't just fry every last one of my brain cells.
The door clicks shut. The lock turns.
And I just stand there.
Hand outstretched with camera in place.
Mouth still slightly open.
Mind completely blank.
My heart slams against my ribs, and I'm pretty sure I forgot how to breathe because my chest rises and falls too quickly, too sharply, like my lungs are struggling to remember their only job.
Did that really just happen?
Did he really just-?
I shake my head violently. No. Nope. I refuse to dwell on this. It was nothing. Just stupid teasing. Just Theo being the absolute menace he always is.
I squeeze my eyes shut, take a deep breath, and force my body to move, snatching my camera up like it personally offended me.
I don't think. I don't hesitate.
I just run.
Out of his room, down the hall, and straight into mine, shutting the door with a little too much force. My back presses against it as I suck in a breath, my chest rising and falling like I just sprinted a marathon instead of escaping a single human being.
My fingers twitch against the door handle before I glance toward my dresser-toward the mirror hanging above it.
Big mistake.
Because the second I catch my reflection, I know I'm screwed.
My face? Flushed.
My eyes? Too wide, too bright.
And my lips? Still slightly parted, like they're waiting for something.
I slap my cheeks-once, twice. "No." I hiss at myself. "You shouldn't be red. You shouldn't be feeling so-" I cut myself off, groaning as I shove away from the door.
This is ridiculous.
I grab my towel and bathroom stuff with far too much force, marching straight to the guest bathroom. The second I step inside, I lock the door behind me, toss my things on the counter, and grip the sink, my head hanging low.
Deep breaths.
I just need to shower. A cold one. A really cold one.
Because there is absolutely no reason why my body should still be feeling hot.
Especially not in that place.
I squeeze my thighs together, mortified, because-what the hell is wrong with me?
It was just teasing.
Just stupid, annoying Theo being an insufferable pain in my ass like always.
Yet the second my mind betrays me-flashing back to his bare torso, the way his muscles stretched when he moved, the way his voice dropped when he called me-
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head violently. "No." I tell myself. "We are not thinking about that."
But then, like a whisper through my bones, the words slip back in-
"Good girl."
My stomach clenches, heat pooling somewhere it definitely shouldn't.
"Goddamn it." I groan, turning on the shower and stepping under the freezing water before I completely lose my mind.
I rush through my shower, scrubbing my skin as if that will somehow erase the way my body reacted. It doesn't. But at least it gives me something else to focus on.
The moment I'm done, I step out, dry off quickly, and head straight back to my room, barely sparing a glance in the mirror because I don't need more reminders.
I grab the first clothes I see-some jeans and a hoodie-yanking them on with zero care. My hair? Still damp. My bag? Barely checked before I sling it over my shoulder.
I just need to leave.
My feet move fast, carrying me out of the apartment, into the hallway, and straight into the elevator. The doors close, trapping me in a space that suddenly feels way too small.
I press the button for the lobby and inhale deeply.
In. Out.
I'm fine. This is fine.
My Kindle? Definitely staying off for a while. No way am I reading anything that could remotely remind me of-
I shake my head. Nope. Not thinking about it.
The elevator dings open, and I don't waste a second stepping out. The bus is already pulling up by the time I reach the stop, and I hop on, sinking into a seat and willing myself to think about anything other than the past thirty minutes.
By the time I reach campus, I'm moving quickly, weaving through students and heading straight for the building where Tory said we'd meet.
I don't have class until one, which means I have time to find her.
And that is the only thing I'm focusing on right now.
As I step into the department building, I barely take two steps before colliding into someone. My body jerks back, and I'm already opening my mouth to apologize when I hear a familiar voice.
"Sophie?"
I look up to see Blair, her brows raised in mild surprise.
"Oh," I blink, steadying myself. "Hey, Blair."
Her expression shifts into a grin. "What's up?"
"I wanted to give Tory the pictures she asked for," I explain, adjusting my bag strap.
Blair's lips curl into a knowing smirk. "You got a picture too?" She chuckles. "Well, not surprising since you live with him. Hope it wasn't too stressful or... weird for you both."
Define weird. Because from last night till now, everything has been fucking weird.
"It wasn't that bad," I lie, because what else can I do?
She hums, clearly amused, then shrugs. "Yeah, I did mine not long ago. Sam was very willing. He said anytime I need a picture, I should ask him. What a darling, right?"
So lucky. So freaking lucky.
"And Alex?" I ask.
Blair bursts into laughter. "I don't know what's going on between them, but she said he agreed, though her face looked so unhappy about it."
"Oh," I murmur, intrigued.
"Don't worry about it," she waves it off. "They just need a release from each other."
My brows furrow. "Release?"
Blair gives me a look, like she can't believe I don't already know. "Oh, you didn't know? When Alex first got to college, she met Jaxon at a club and... stuff happened."
Did I hear that right?
I lean in, lowering my voice. "Wait... you mean they... they..." I glance around before whispering, "They had sex?"
Blair shakes her head. "Not exactly." She tilts her head, thinking. "They were about to, but they didn't reach that base. Other stuff happened, though. And from the way she talked about it then, I'd say she still wants him. And he definitely still wants her."
"Then they should just... I mean, like you said, they need a release, right?"
Blair snorts. "Yeah, they do. But Alex is so damn stubborn. When she found out he was one of the popular guys and a hockey player, she decided to stay away."
I nod, trying to understand. "Oh, I get the popular part, but what's wrong with him being a hockey player?"
Blair gasps, eyes widening in mock offense before she playfully smacks my shoulder. "Don't you read smut?"
I scoff. "Of course I do."
Her grin turns wicked. "What kind?"
I blink at Blair, not sure where she's going with this. "Uh... the normal kind?"
She snorts. "Define normal."
I shift on my feet, suddenly feeling like I walked into a trap. "You know... romance. Some tension. Some-"
Blair raises a brow, waiting.
I cross my arms. "Some good stuff. Okay?"
She laughs. "Okay, Miss Vague, let me spell it out for you. You do know what hockey romance books are like, right?"
I nod, confused. "Yeah?"
"And you do know that hockey players have a certain reputation in them, right?"
Oh.
Oh.
"Wait," I say slowly, piecing it together. "You're saying Alex is avoiding him because-"
"Because she's read too many books where the hot, broody hockey player ruins the girl's life, so now she's convinced Jaxon is just like that," Blair finishes for me, shaking her head. "Honestly, I don't know whether to admire her discipline or smack her for being so damn dramatic."
I let out a short laugh. "I mean... it's kind of logical? In a way?"
Blair gasps, clutching her chest. "You agree with her?"
I raise my hands defensively. "I didn't say that! Just that... I get it. I mean, hockey players do have a reputation."
"Yeah, yeah," Blair waves it off. "All I'm saying is, those two need to get it over with. This whole 'I want him but I can't have him' thing is exhausting to watch, let alone live through."
I hum in agreement, but my mind wanders for a second. Because if they need to get over their tension...
Then what about-
Nope.
Not thinking about that.
Blair tilts her head at me. "You look weirdly thoughtful right now. Suspiciously thoughtful."
I force a smile. "Nope. Just processing what you said."
She narrows her eyes like she doesn't believe me, but then she shrugs. "Well, anyway, I gotta go. Good luck with Tory and your not weird at all photography session." She winks before walking off.
I exhale.
Right.
Time to find Tory. Forget what happened today didn't occur or I might just go nuts and definitely-definitely buy the mini vibrator.
I guess I already know what I'm going to use with the two hundred dollars.