by Aurora, Lexi
Staying the hell away from Grayson was paramount.
Chapter 8: Grayson
“I swear to God, if I never hear ‘there’s no I in we again’, it’ll be too soon,” Kyla sighed as she swished some vodka orange into her cranberry-glossed mouth.
Kyle nodded, drinking deeply himself. “Who would’ve known that relationship conference was just a thinly-disguised Christian camp?”
“Uh, me?” Grayson said, raising a finger.
Kyle smiled sweetly as he gave him the finger.
“I mean, I hate to say ‘I told you so’,” Grayson continued. “But, I did tell you so.”
Linking his arm in Kyla’s, Kyle threaded away, “Gonna get us some more drinks.”
As soon as he left, Grayson took in the scene. They’d gotten a pretty good turnout for their pre-wedding clubbing expedition; there were a few girls, apparently friends of Kyla’s, who were already hitting up the dance floor. Randy and Charlie, primary school friends of his and Kyle’s, had shown up too. The ball-capped pair stood further down the bar, their eyes on the game on the TV screen.
He smiled as his gaze stopped on Kyle and Kyla poking each other like goofs as they waited for their drinks. They did look like they were having a ball. He could see why. After their Bible camp relationship conference, they’d been just about desperate for some actual fun, which involved alcohol and friends.
Now that the spot beside him was free, a busty redhead leaned on the bar next to him, eyeing him significantly. A smile wobbled onto her face. “You lift, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Where did women come up with these boring-ass pickup lines? No, I was just born this way, muscles bursting out of my shirt, and all.
“Cool place here, huh?” she continued, in a twangy country voice.
“Super cool,” he replied.
Further down the bar on the other side stood Annie and... what the hell was Jermaine doing there?
Grayson had to resist the urge to laugh. Jermaine was much the same as when he and Kyle had known the guy in college; red dreads to his shoulders and a crack-toothed smile. He was definitely going to have more than he bargained with as far as Annie went.
Shooting the redhead a parting smile, Grayson wandered over a bit closer. Now this was going to be interesting, if not hilarious.
Watching, he wasn’t disappointed. Jermaine was pulling out all the stops; the shoulder touch, the dipped-in head. He’d already bought Annie a drink, which sat beside another untouched one. Grayson bit back his smile. This was just too much. Poor Annie looked like she wanted to sink into the tiles and become one.
There was only one thing to do. Swooping in, Grayson angled his body so that it cut in between Jermaine and Annie.
“Sorry, man,” he told the skinny guy, “But Annie and I have wedding business to discuss.”
Jermaine lingered for a minute like he wanted to argue, but then shrugged and strode off, his head roving for his next project.
“You’re welcome,” Grayson said, grinning. “Though really, I did it for myself. Even way over there,” he pointed to where he’d been standing, “you looked so awkward that I felt awkward.”
Annie’s eyes flashed, “Thanks a lot.”
She grabbed her glass, drank it all in one still-glaring gulp, and then whirled on her heel, “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He caught her by the arm, “Hey – wait. I’m sorry.”
As she aimed her glare his way once again, Grayson explained, “I didn’t know it bothered you. I was only kidding.”
Annie sighed, letting her arm sag out of his grasp, “It’s fine. I just... wish it wasn’t that noticeable.”
Grayson gaped at her, “Seriously? But flirting is like the easiest thing in the world for girls.”
She glowered at him, “Oh yeah?”
“Yep,” he nodded, expressively. “Like...” he squinted, trying to think of the manifold things that turned him on. “...I mean, all you have to do is pretty much smile and laugh when in doubt.”
Still, she looked less than convinced – or amused.
“Certain touches don’t hurt,” he added, significantly.
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I’ll bet.” She whacked him with the back of her hand and Grayson grinned. “See? I’m turned on already.”
Before her hand could dart away again, Grayson captured it in his. Those baby blues of hers were nothing short of traps themselves. Now it was the second time that, when looking into them, he found he couldn’t look away.
“Come dance with us!” It was Kyla, tugging eagerly at her friend.
Annie held her ground, “Sorry Ky, you know I don’t dance.”
“Ugh!” Kyla sighed loudly, tugging to no avail. “Please? Just this once?”
She waited for another few seconds before declaring “Party pooper!” and racing off to the dance floor.
“Seriously?” Grayson asked.
As soon as her friend had left them, the guilt left Annie’s face, too. “Seriously.”
“Why not?”
“Because I look like a spastic monkey while dancing.”
Grayson considered this and then pursed his lips. “Ever consider you may look like a spastic monkey while not dancing?”
She scowled at him. She seemed to be responding that way a lot to Grayson’s comments.
“Wrong thing to say,” Grayson admitted. “But seriously.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
“You do realize that on the dance floor,” he pointed out, “the music’s so loud that it’ll blare out anything I say.”
The next second she was striding onto the dance floor where the disco light was splashing the crowd with blue and purple stars.
“Really, I should be insulted,” Grayson said, following close behind. “But I’m counting this as a victory.”
“Count this as whatever you want,” Annie said, although she was smiling.
At the sight of her friend, Kyla whooped. Together, Grayson and Annie joined the large group, almost taking up the whole dance floor that consisted of Kyla and Kyle’s friends. Grayson recognized a few familiar faces even outside the circle, including the redhead from before whose extended stare was as good as a beckon.
But, what surprised Grayson the most was that as they all did the lawnmower dance move together, there was a weird thing going on in his chest.
It was like he’d gained an extra lung, or something. Like he could float up and up and up, above all of them, smile a mile wide, and pop like some child’s Mickey Mouse balloon.
Like, with an empty bed nearly guaranteed tonight, and nothing but dancing with friends and chatting with Kyle, and maybe Annie, on the menu, that was all he would’ve wanted anyway.
Chapter 9: Annie
And they say that time flies. Actually, it rockets.
The four days between the rehearsal dinner that Annie was now attending, and that clubbing night, had passed in a blink of an eye. It was four days of scrambling to get the peach napkin and purple carnation orders right, ensuring the caterers were all still booked and ready. It was four days of avoiding Grayson every chance she had, even as he seemed intent on the complete opposite – intent on talking to her and seeing her as much as it was humanly possible, for some reason.
The other day, he’d actually shown up at her place with coffee, and a claim that he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that the final napkin design (horizontal lines of peaches instead of randomly spaced peaches) was up to snuff. It was a claim that a two-minute conversation sorted out (yep, horizontal peaches were a-ok).
Anyway, now here she was, stuck at this boring-ish rehearsal dinner.
Annie shovelled mashed potatoes into her mouth, frowning at her ungrateful thoughts. It wasn’t Kyla’s fault that the priest had been an hour late – making them have to wait, sprawled out in pews, actually driven to flip through the hymn books for entertainment. They were bored out of their minds , and it was her decision to sit beside Jermaine, of all people. He’d been t
exting her practically nonstop the past few days, and she still wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Although he had, at least, toned down on the over-the-top flirting.
“You a big reader, then?” he asked, as soon as he’d latched onto the fact that she was reading Anna Karenina.
“I guess,” Annie shrugged. It was a good way to pass time between shifts at work, and it made her feel a bit less guilty about watching Netflix.
“You want to be a writer, or something?”
There was something in his insistent, too-blue gaze that Annie didn’t like. But she smiled placidly, nonetheless. Smile and laugh when in doubt. “No, I like my job.”
“A nurse, right?”
She laughed. Smile and laugh when in doubt. “Right.”
Jermaine grinned like he’d just won the lottery. “So what do I get for remembering?” he asked.
Annie gazed evenly at him, her heart jumping. Was he actually suggesting...
“What do you propose?”
Another one of those hell-yeah grins. He swept a many-ringed hand out the door, “To the balcony.”
Annie accepted his proffered arm, “To the balcony.”
As they swept by, Grayson’s eyes followed her. He had a stunning blonde next to him, gabbing away, but seemed unaware of it, at least right now.
Annie grinned, mouthing ‘Thanks’, then giggled at whatever Jermaine said. Smile and laugh when in doubt.
Right now, she felt tingly, like she could take flight into the air. The wine didn’t hurt, nor did the sense that she was on the edge of something.
As soon as they stepped onto the balcony, Jermaine made an impressed sound.
Annie couldn’t blame him, either; its fully marble surface reflected the moonlight perfectly. Under the definition of ‘romantic’, there’d probably be a picture of this balcony with that starry night sky.
He led them to the railing. “Those stars sure are something,” he said.
Although he wasn’t looking at them; he was looking at her.
Annie remember Grayson stare back when she was leaving. It’d been like hands stroking up and down her body.
She smiled. Wearing her silky blue dress, the one that had been formerly relegated to the back of her closet since she’d never felt quite right wearing it, had definitely been a good choice. Sure, it had taken an internal battle of about twenty minutes or so as she paced in front of her full-length mirror at home, and finally asking Kyla’s opinion via Snapchat, but she’d done it.
“I made you something.”
As he held out a folded sheet of paper to her, Jermaine’s voice contained none of the hey-girl swagger it had that first night they’d met.
Her eyes met his, questioningly, but all she could see in their black orbs was the reflection of the moon.
Then, she unfolded the paper.
It was a drawing. Of her. Annie. But one she could never have even imagined of herself, let alone hoped for. Her eyes were luminous and excited, her mouth a whisper of a genuine smile. The depiction could have been drawn only by someone who...
Annie looked up and read it in his eyes. Truly liked her.
Gone was the macho up-jut chin and squinted eyes of a man in “game mode”. Jermaine, here, hadn’t given her this drawing just to get in her pants. On the contrary, he genuinely liked her. Just from that one club encounter and a few days of texting, too.
“You like it?” he asked.
And something about his question told her that it wasn’t all that he was asking. Behind him, the moon hung low, too bright.
There were a multitude of answers to his question, all but the truth, which was dawning on Annie more by the minute.
“I do,” she said slowly, smiling. “But I have to go.”
And then, she did. Never had she hurried to the bathroom faster. Her head was spinning, with no thought being able to land.
Inside, she stood in the stall with the picture in her hands. This sudden change was uncanny – from excitement to avoidance. There was a snap judgment brought on by a snap realization.
Jermaine actually liked her – and that was the last thing she wanted.
She smiled thinly. You know what they say about hindsight.
Now that she thought about it, in the beginning she’d been unwillingly drawn not to him, but the idea he represented – a no-strings fling. She had already been nearly broken by love gone wrong and she didn’t need another incident. Right now, as much as time had passed, another serious relationship was the last thing she needed.
She just needed to get out of this dating rut and have a fling instead. Then she could worry about trusting men and herself again.
When she left the salmon-colored stall, she stopped in front of the mirror. There, her carefully mauve-lipped reflection smiled weakly at her, knowing all too well what she had to do.
Sure enough, just outside the bathroom, he was waiting for her.
“Hey,” his attempt at a smile fell flat. “Was the picture that bad? I can do it again, if you want.”
“No, not at all.” Annie clasped the picture to her chest, daring to look him in the eye. “It’s beautiful.”
He nodded, his eyes holding the question that remained. What is it, then?
Annie took a breath, “I’m flattered, really. But I don’t think I’m in a good place to be with someone.”
She left before she could see her words land. She felt guilty enough without seeing how dejected or pissed he would be now.
Anyway, she had done the right thing. It was only kind to let him down like that now, not hurting him in the long run. Right?
If they’d have hooked up and then Annie would have pulled away when he would real feelings for her, it would’ve been much worse for him.
At least that was what she told himself as she went back to the room where some people were still eating. Annie wasn’t about to sit down, considering if Jermaine plopped down beside her, all mopey, it would be a recipe for disaster. Instead, she’d been drawn to this room for something else, or maybe someone else.
Back at the long table of diners, Grayson was finished his food, still half-heartedly into the conversation with the stunning blonde. His gaze was plastered on hers.
Do it, I dare you.
She strode towards him, not knowing what she’d do or say when she got there.
As it so happened, the music in the ballroom started up just as she arrived.
“Want to dance, wedding planner?” she asked, her gaze still on his.
He smiled, raised his brows. “It would be my pleasure, wedding planner.”
They were the first two on the dance floor, but Annie didn’t mind. Right now, she had one bold idea and three glasses of liquid courage in her belly to carry it out. Not to mention, butterflies of arousal were flurrying down every inch of her veins, like they were a busy highway. What was it about Grayson that got her all riled up in all the good and bad ways?
Do it, I dare you.
“You look like you have something to say,” Grayson commented, eyeing her as he conveyed her into a spin.
“Got me,” she swallowed. Was she actually going to do this?
His clasp on her arms was so... sturdy, so certain. His aftershave was gripping her as close as she wished he would.
“I was thinking,” she said, “We work well together.”
A smile trickled on his face, “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, instinctively.
His brows rose, “Too late.”
But that wasn’t all.
“Just made me think,” she continued, “We’d work together well other places too...”
His grip tightened on her, edging her so close that she was pressed to him tightly. Now his gaze seemed very interested. “Such as?”
Do it, I dare you.
She lifted her gaze to look at him head-on.
“Such as your bed... or mine. Doesn’t really matter.”
Chap
ter 10: Grayson
Talk about not having it go to my head.
Grayson gaped at her. Was the little minx toying with him?
But that glossy smirk of hers didn’t so much as twitch.
From the first second he’d touched her a few minutes ago to dance, his blood had rushed with the knowledge of it. His boner was swelling with the mere hope of it.
And yet, now, here she was, suggesting it herself.
“You’re drunk,” he declared.
Her smirk turned nasty, “What? Afraid?”
Throwing a glance around to confirm no one was looking, Grayson slid his hand to her ass and gave it a light squeeze. “On the contrary, just not enough of a jerk to take advantage of you in your clearly inebriated state.”
“Didn’t seem to bug you before.”
Damn her, if there wasn’t a twist of mockery in those tempting little eyes.
“If this is a trick, it’s going to backfire,” he said, carefully.
She pouted, “Are you just trying to make excuses now?”
Grayson opened his mouth, and then paused. What was he trying to do, really? Wasn’t this what he wanted?
But his next circumspect look found that they were no longer alone on the wooden-floored dance floor. Only a few feet away, an elderly woman, with a dress the color of watermelon skin, was eyeing him dubiously. This was not the place.
He tugged Annie away, out to the balcony. He waited until the door had closed behind him and a look confirmed that they were, indeed, alone. Then he asked her, “Is this about the Jermaine thing?”
She shrugged. “No, except that it made me realize something.”
Grayson sighed. Why was it that this woman, who he’d had zero interest in initially, was now someone who had trouble written all over her, in the worst way?
He sighed, “Still don’t think this is a...”
She kissed the words right out of his mouth. Her tongue edged in tentatively, while her lips pressed too tight.
Yep, she was drunk alright, but hell if that clumsy kiss wasn’t giving him a full hard-on.