Chapter 2– Grey’s Room

Sam's POV

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I shifted a little, my eyes still shut as I groaned, stretching lazily. My hand searched for the pillow, fingers rubbing over impossibly soft sheets as a quiet moan of satisfaction escaped my lips.

God...

When did my bed get this soft?

And why did it smell so good?

A hand slid gently through my hair, and I instinctively leaned into the touch, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Mmm... Andrea..."

A deep chuckle answered me.

"I'm very sure it's Nicholas, darling."

My eyes flew open.

I shot upright, every memory crashing into me all at once.

The video.

The club.

Him.

Me...

...in his arms.

My gaze darted around the enormous bedroom. Grey walls. Expensive paintings. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the city below.

Then I looked down at myself.

My eyes widened before snapping back to the man leaning casually against the wall.

A steaming mug rested in one hand.

He wore nothing but a pair of loose grey sweatpants hanging low on his waist, an amused little smirk playing on his lips as he watched me like I was some fascinating experiment.

I glared at him.

"Why the hell did you bring me here?"

Without answering, he slowly lifted the mug and took another sip, never breaking eye contact.

"I should make you breakfast."

He turned toward the door.

My jaw tightened.

"You're gonna answer me, or I swear..."

He stopped.

Then slowly looked back.

The smirk on his face wasn't the same one from a second ago.

This one was darker.

Colder.

He tilted his head before lowering his eyes toward the floor.

Confused, I followed his gaze.

Scattered clothes.

Leading all the way to the bed.

My throat went dry.

My breathing caught.

Slowly, my eyes returned to him.

He raised his gaze just as slowly, his grey eyes locking onto mine.

"You don't remember?"

My heart pounded.

"What a shame."

A smile tugged at his lips.

"I'll make you breakfast."

Then he walked out.

I stared at the closed door for several long seconds, questions crashing through my head one after another.

What was I doing here?

Why was I in his bed?

Why the hell did he bring me here?

My eyes drifted back to the clothes scattered across the floor.

That same sick feeling returned.

I threw the blanket aside and climbed out of bed, yanking my clothes off the floor and pulling them on aggressively.

With every piece of clothing I put back on, my anger only grew.

He was going to answer every single damn question.

Or I'd beat the answers out of him.

Every question that had haunted me for the last forty-eight hours.

I didn't care if I ended up in jail.

I wanted to kill him.

I wanted him to hurt half as much as he'd made me hurt.

Maybe he'd beat the shit out of me.

But I'd get at least one good punch in.

One good fucking punch.

I shoved my hands into my jeans, searching for my phone before spotting it on the bedside table.

I hurried toward it.

Then stopped.

The full-length mirror on the wall caught my attention.

Slowly...

I walked back.

My eyes lowered to my neck.

My breath caught.

Fresh red bruises.

My heart sank.

My fingers slowly brushed over them as a quiet gasp escaped my lips.

I looked away immediately, snatched up my phone, and rushed out of the room.

My eyes swept over the massive hallway lined with bedrooms facing one another.

I practically flew down the grand staircase in the middle of the house.

The huge grey front door stood at the far end of the luxurious living room.

I sprinted toward it.

Out into the front yard.

Toward the gates.

Please don't be locked...

I shoved them.

They swung open.

I ran.

I didn't want to think.

I didn't want to answer the thousands of questions screaming inside my head.

I didn't want to remember.

I just needed to get as far away from that place as possible.

•

I stood beneath the shower, hot water pouring over my body as I squeezed my eyes shut.

Think.

Remember.

What the hell happened last night?

Nothing.

The last thing I remembered was seeing Nicholas outside my house.

After that...

Nothing.

No memory of ending up at his mansion.

No memory of his bedroom.

No memory of...

Whatever these were.

I turned the water off and stepped out.

Stopping in front of the sink, I slowly looked into the mirror again.

My eyes drifted to the marks on my neck.

They trailed all the way down to just above my left nipple.

My jaw clenched.

I wasn't a child.

I knew exactly what they looked like.

But...

It couldn't be that.

Of course it couldn't.

It could be anything.

Maybe I'd fallen on my way home and scraped my neck.

...Okay, that didn't make much sense.

Maybe he'd dropped me while carrying me inside and I'd scratched myself on a doorknob.

Yeah...

That sounded stupid too.

It could be anything.

Anything other than the man my girlfriend cheated on me with leaving hickeys all over my neck.

The thought made my skin crawl.

I quickly grabbed my toothbrush, squeezed toothpaste onto it, and brushed my teeth aggressively, deliberately ignoring Andrea's pink toothbrush sitting right beside mine.

I needed a distraction.

For the first time in three years of college...

I was actually grateful I had classes all day.

•

"Dang, bro. The cheapest law school I can find is like seventy thousand dollars. What the fuck?"

Patrick held his phone toward me.

I looked over the list of schools and tuition fees.

I'd already seen them.

My search history was practically nothing but affordable law schools and scholarship requirements.

I handed the phone back without saying anything.

The familiar feeling of dread settled over me again.

A few months from graduating.

A bachelor's degree almost in my hands.

And I still hadn't saved nearly enough for law school.

"Well... that was one hell of a reaction."

Patrick nudged me with his shoulder.

"You've said like three words today, and we've been together for almost eight hours."

He frowned.

"You good, Sam?"

I forced out a smile.

"I'm okay."

It sounded fake even to me.

"It's just been a really long day... and I'm starving."

Patrick was a good guy.

We'd only recently become friends.

And I was pretty sure we weren't close enough for me to break down crying over my girlfriend cheating on me...

Or tell him I'd woken up in the bed of the very man she'd cheated with.

Yeah.

Definitely too early for that.

"There's a new Chinese restaurant just down the street."

He grinned.

"We should check it out."

I nodded.

Finally, we stopped walking like two exhausted snails and picked up the pace.

We stepped outside the university building.

People crowded the entrance.

The sun had already gone down.

Didn't these people have homes?

"What the hell is everyone staring at?"

Patrick muttered.

I looked up from my shoes.

Students whispered among themselves, some pretending not to stare while others openly pointed.

A group of girls giggled excitedly.

I squeezed through the crowd before stopping abruptly.

A sleek black luxury car sat parked at the curb.

The kind of car only a billionaire could own without thinking twice.

Something about it felt...Familiar.

Patrick tugged on my sleeve.

"Come on."

He laughed.

"Don't stare too much. We'll have one in a few years."

I turned to leave.

"Sam."

My body froze.

My heartbeat quickened.

My fists tightened.

Slowly...

I turned around.

Nicholas stood beside the car in another perfectly tailored suit, a cigarette resting between his fingers.

His eyes met mine.

The whispers around us only grew louder.

"Oh my God... that's Nicholas Grey."

"What is he doing here?"

"He knows him?"

"He's so hot!"

"Girls, oh my gosh..."

"Hop in."

His voice carried effortlessly through the crowd.

"I'll give you a ride."

Several people gasped.

I scoffed, grabbing Patrick's arm before he could walk over out of pure curiosity.

"Thanks..."

My voice was stiff.

"But I'm okay."

I turned and took a few steps.

"I'm sure you have questions that deserve answers, Sam."

I froze.

Almost instinctively, I felt the faint sting on my neck.

Swallowing hard, I looked back.

That same infuriating smirk greeted me.

He gestured toward the passenger door.

"Let's just talk."

I ground my teeth together.

Patrick looked at me like he'd just realized something was very, very wrong.

I patted him on the shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

I didn't wait for his response.

I walked toward Nicholas.

Then climbed into the car.

Every instinct I had screamed that this was a terrible idea.

But there were too many questions.

And I needed some damn answers.