“I guess I’ll go get us some drinks,” I muttered, hoping I could sip on something for a few minutes and then come up with a good excuse to leave. I was relived Mitchell didn’t follow me to the bar. Megan really owes me for this.
I walked up to an open chair at the bar and waited for a moment, hoping to get the bartenders attention down at the other end. He appeared to be flirting with a girl sitting at the bar, so it didn’t look like I was going to get his attention any time soon.
Annoyed, I pulled out the bar stool and sat down. It didn’t seem as though this night could get any more disappointing. Addie already left and now Megan was sucking face with the guy who lead us to this dismal bar in the first place.
“Mallory?” a voice said from two empty chairs down.
Shit. Apparently this night could get worse.
Chapter 4
“Greyson? How is it possible that you are in this bar right now,” I said, not even attempting to hide my irritation.
“I should be asking you the same question,” he replied with a smirk. “I guess I didn’t realize you were the kind of girl to frequent a place like this.”
“What kind of a girl do you think I am?” I asked, mildly amused for some reason.
“Not a very bright one apparently,” he answered, staring at me with an intense gaze.
“Excuse me?” I replied angrily. Who did this guy think he was?
“Well, you stood up a handsome, intellectual, witty, charming guy the other night. Seems like poor decision making if you ask me,” he said shrugging his shoulders. He flashed a confident smile, and for a brief moment I was torn between anger and some pseudo-psychotic form of attraction.
“I’ve met no such guy recently. Not one fitting that description anyway, so I’m afraid your assessment of me is incorrect. I actually pride myself on making very sane, rational decisions. So if you’re referring to my choice not to accept a dinner invitation from an arrogant, pretentious jerk, then I would say you have me completely figured out,” I said hastily.
Greyson slid two chairs down until he was sitting right next to me. He motioned towards the bartender who immediately walked over and poured four shots of some brown liquor, setting the small glasses down right in front of us. The bartender then walked away to the other side of the bar without saying a word.
Greyson looked directly into my eyes, studying me for a moment. “Maybe I do have you figured out. You’re a Libra, rich parents but an otherwise normal childhood. You live with a vegan roommate, you like sappy eighties ballads, and you always choose chocolate cake over vanilla. You love Sudoku but you suck at math. You’re obsessed with reality TV, and you hate wet towels left on floors. You pretend to hate charming men, even though you angrily sit around whining to your friends that you’re waiting to be completely swept off your feet.” He stared at me with his piercing blue eyes.
“No. No to all of that, actually. Where is this conversation even going? Not a single thing you just said is even remotely true,” I responded curtly.
“Really? None of it? Not even the chocolate cake thing? I thought all women preferred chocolate cake,” he said dryly.
“And the rest of that was insulting, actually. To suggest I’m some angry man-hater waiting for a white horse. You are really terrible at flirting,” I replied.
“Ah, so we’re flirting? Why didn’t you just say so from the beginning?” he asked with an amused grin.
“This is like, the worst bar conversation I’ve ever had. And considering I showed up here to begin with to be set up with that guy,” I said, angrily pointing at Mitchell who was currently making out with some mousy pale blonde girl. “I thought my night pretty much hit rock bottom when I shook his sweaty palm. But this,” my voice trailed off as I threw my hands up in the air in defeat.
“Well thank you. I’m glad your night has finally peaked,” he said sarcastically.
“Look, I’ll lay it all out so we can end this dreadful conversation. I’m actually a Virgo, which really means nothing to me, and I live alone and prefer it that way. Carrot cake trumps all, and I think men in skinny jeans qualifies as the worst fashion disaster in history. I love books, I hate when people pet dogs in the opposite direction of their fur, and I rock at trivia games. I’m not angry at men. I just don’t have time to be the perfect, doting girlfriend just to keep them from abandoning me or cheating on me. I run a respectful business and I don’t want to be coddled by some guy who thinks I need him. I do kind of suck at math but I didn’t want to admit you were right about something, and I’m really hoping now that I can just leave this bar gracefully and pretend this whole night was worth coming out for.” I glared at Greyson with a straight face.
“This night was worth you coming out for,” he stated sincerely. “Maybe something wonderful and unexpected will happen on the way home for you.”
“I’m not big on ‘unexpected.’ In case you haven’t noticed, I’m more of the planning type. ‘Unexpected’ seems to just bite me in the ass, like this entire conversation with the one person I wish I could ‘un-expect’ to be sitting next to me right now,” I replied, ready to finally end my night.
“I want to kiss you,” he responded.
“Well congratulations. But no,” I said bluntly.
“Please?” he asked with a shy smile.
“Wow, your first sign of manners. But the answer is still no. Why on earth after this dismal conversation would you want to kiss me?”
“So I can change your mind about me. A good kiss changes everything,” he said stoically.
“Well I appreciate your optimism. But I’m still going to take a pass,” I said curtly.
"I really think you should let me."
"This is like ninth grade peer pressure. The answer is still no," I responded, shaking my head.
“Come on, Mallory. I could be the next best thing to happen to you.”
“Or you could be my next big mistake,” I retorted.
As I turned to stand up from the barstool, Greyson rested his hand on my chin, leaned in, and kissed me. Not just a small peck, but like a real kiss. “I think you need unexpected,” he whispered, pulling away from me.
I reached out and grabbed two of the shot glasses sitting on the bar in front of me. I quickly slugged them both down, probably making a sour face at the burning sensation as the foul liquid slid down my throat. He followed suit and gulped down the remaining two glasses, then stood up next to me, inches from my body. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the softness of his lips against mine, but somehow in that moment I wanted more. Without thinking anymore about it, I grabbed his shoulder and kissed him back, hard.
Somehow in the next ninety seconds we were making our way out of the bar to a line of cabs waiting at the curb, still kissing along the way as we exited the bar. I briefly shot Megan a wave and pointed to Greyson before we left, just so she would know I was leaving and that I wasn’t alone. I should have felt bad for abandoning her at the bar, but she was so wrapped around Eric that she didn’t seem to care.
“Come home with me,” Greyson said breathily between kisses.
“Look, I don’t even know what I’m doing. This is all a bad idea,” I said honestly, trying to regain what little composure I had left. “I’m not that girl. I shouldn’t have even come out here with you. I should probably just head home.”
“Mallory, please. Just come back to my place for a bit. Then I’ll call you a cab to take you home,” he replied, his eyes pleading with me to change my mind.
“Greyson, I can’t do it. I didn’t even like you four minutes ago. You’re a stranger in a bar and I’ve had too many shots of Jack. Not exactly what dreams are made of,” I answered sarcastically.
“Look, nothing has to happen. I’m not that kind of guy, despite whatever you’re thinking of me at the moment. I just want to hang out. I feel like it’s total crazy luck that I even ran into you tonight. I just want, like, an hour with you. That’s it. We can just get to know each other a little better
. I promise, nothing physical,” he said sincerely. “We can just talk and hang out.”
I knew I would regret this in the not-so-distant future, but somehow Greyson was persuasive enough to get his way. He gently put his lips to mine, and that made my decision.
I can’t say I remember much of the six minute cab ride, other than the heat of Greyson’s body pressed up against mine. As soon as we arrived at his condo, he quickly threw some bills at the cab driver and we made our way into his place.
I’m not sure I even noticed my surroundings as we clung to each other down his narrow hallway and into his bedroom. My mind felt a little bit fuzzy at that point. I’m not sure we even came up for air until he laid me down on his bed.
“Mallory, this is not what I had in mind tonight. I don’t want you to think I…” I put my mouth on his again to get him to stop talking.
“Look,” I said as I slowly pulled away, “talking doesn’t seem to work between us. In fact it’s dreadful. I couldn't stand you thirty seconds before you kissed me. But this,” I said, slowing kissing his face, “this works. You somehow managed to talk me into choosing the unexpected. Don’t change my mind.”
Greyson hesitated. “I just think, well, I mean we’ve been drinking and everything, and I just…” Greyson struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I mean, we don’t really even know each other,” his voice trailed off as he tucked a piece of hair behind my left ear.
“Exactly. Which works in your favor, because I’m still not convinced I would like you if we keep talking,” I said softly, pulling his mouth back to mine. I could feel his lips turn up into a smile, and I knew in that moment I won the argument.
Chapter 5
The next morning I awoke in a haze, forgetting for a moment where I even was. This type of spontaneity wasn’t usually my thing. I sat up, looking around the room. Greyson was shirtless, crouched up into a ball on a sofa chair he had in the corner of his room. I glanced around the room again, and quickly realized I still had my green dress on from the night before. I was fuzzy on the details as to whether or not it even came off at any point.
Oh my gosh, what was I thinking? Coming home with him last night? Waking up in his bed… of course that didn’t explain why he wasn’t in the same bed. Why was he sleeping on a chair? What even happened last night? My memory failed me, and I felt even more mortified to be in this situation.
He appeared to still be in a deep sleep, so I quietly got out of bed and threw on my shoes. I silently made my way out to the living room, hoping to find wherever I dropped my purse. As I tiptoed down the hallway, I was startled by a deep voice.
“Leaving so soon?”
I let out a small squeal from my surprise and turned to face a dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal.
“Geez, I didn’t know anyone else lived here. You startled me,” I said, running a hand through my messy hair. I realized in that moment that this guy was sitting at the kitchen table in nothing but his boxer briefs, which made me a little uncomfortable.
“Sorry. I’m not used to seeing any females around here this early in the morning, otherwise I would have put on pants,” he replied sincerely.
“You mean Greyson doesn’t do this every weekend?” I asked dryly. I half hoped for an honest response, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know either way.
“Oh no, that guy hasn’t brought a girl around here in the last two years. Not since his fiancé died.”
“He has a dead fiancé?” I squealed a little too loudly. I knew my wording hadn’t come out right, but I was so shocked by the statement.
“Oh sorry, you haven’t covered the Brianna saga yet? Sorry, Greyson should probably be the one to tell you all about that. Oh shit, don’t tell him I just mentioned any of that.”
This was too much information to process. I needed an exit strategy, fast. Within seconds, I heard footsteps walking down the hall.
“So I see you’ve met Ben,” Greyson said, walking into the living room with a pair of shorts on and nothing else. I immediately looked away from his tan, toned abs, knowing I didn’t want to be sucked back in by how attractive he was.
“Yes. Thanks for the heads up you had a roommate,” I said through a fake smile. “I should really get going. I have a busy day today.”
“Can I at least make you some breakfast? I make a killer veggie omelet,” he said sweetly.
Ben nodded his head in agreement and chimed in. “That’s true, this guy can work an egg. He’s a very good cook,” he added, as if he was trying to sell me on the idea of staying to eat.
“I don’t know, I really…” I began.
“Will you at least sit out on the patio with me, just for a bit? Just for some coffee?” Greyson looked at me with sincere eyes, and although I still wanted to walk out the front door in yesterday’s dress, I reluctantly agreed to stay. I felt like I at least needed a moment alone with him to apologize for whatever happened the night before.
“Fine, but just a few minutes. I really do have a busy day. I’m supposed to meet my friend Addie at the bakery. I’m already late, and I know she’ll worry about where I am,” I said, following Greyson to a set of French doors that led out to a beautiful terrace overlooking downtown. I could even see a glimpse of Lake Tahoe off in the distance. The view was amazing.
“Look, I am so sorry about last night. That is completely unlike me. And whatever happened, I just…” my voice trailed off as I struggled to find what to say.
“What all do you remember happening last night? Do you think we…” he paused for a moment, and his mouth curled up into a smile.
“Honestly, I think I had too much to drink. I don’t even really know what happened. I am so embarrassed. That is completely unlike me,” I repeated, knowing I still deserved his judgment for this. “So if anything happened,” I fell silent again, still not wanting to actually say what I was thinking.
“Well I wish I had a juicier recap for you. But you were actually kind of sweet. We were just kissing, and then you laid back and asked me to stroke your hair for a minute. You looked a little tired, so I obliged. Then you started mumbling incoherently. You asked me something though, that I remember," he replied with an amused grin.
"I asked you something? Care to elaborate?"
"Well, most of your words were a little disconnected. Then you looked up at me with a straight face. You asked me if I thought I could love you better than Dillon?”
“Those words came out of my mouth?” I said, completely in shock. “That is even more embarrassing than whatever I had going on in my head about what could have happened,” I said, shaking my head. “Are you going to put some clothes on?" I asked, trying to change the subject. I was so mortified by this entire conversation. The fact that I had to stare at his perfectly toned physique wasn’t making this any less uncomfortable.
“I feel like you’re just trying to end this conversation. But if it will make you feel better, then yes, I’ll grab a shirt,” he said, walking briefly back into his bedroom.
Did I really ask this guy in my drunken haze if he could love me better than Dillon? That had to be the worst thing a girl could say to a guy she followed home from a bar. What was I even doing here?
Greyson quickly reemerged wearing a soft grey t-shirt, and for a moment I almost blurted out that he looked better with the shirt off. I bit my tongue though. The last thing I needed to do was mislead this guy with a compliment when I honestly was hoping to never run into him again after this morning finally ended.
Greyson led me to a beautiful wooden patio table, motioning for me to sit down. He briskly walked back inside and came back out with two mugs of coffee.
“I’m really glad you came home with me last night Mallory,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m glad you showed up in that bar last night.” There were such beautiful views surrounding us out in the distance from his patio, but yet he never took his gaze off me.
“I’m glad the night ended up better than it began,” I said,
blushing. “But honestly, this is probably all a bad idea.”
“What’s a bad idea? I like you Mallory, and I can’t think of a single bad thing about this,” he said, sitting back in his chair casually.
“You don’t even know me,” I said with a smirk.
“Yes I do. You suck at math, you hate guys in skinny jeans, and you’re obsessed with carrot cake,” he responded, recounting our conversation from last night. I smiled. “I know other stuff about you too. You’d be surprised. I’m very intuitive.”
“Okay, what else?” I asked, not sure why I was still engaging him in conversation.
“Well, you’re smart for one. Owning your own business, that’s no easy feat. You seem like you’re doing quite well at it too, so obviously you’re very focused and motivated. You’re probably pretty good at planning, organizing, and execution. You think you’re not a spontaneous person, but after last night, you changed my mind on that and I know you are.” He smiled as he spoke, and somehow I couldn’t help but stare back at him. “And I know you’re even prettier the morning after than the night before, which is not the case for most girls.”
“And you’re an expert on the subject?” I asked in a mocking tone. “No girl looks better in two day old mascara, that’s not a thing.”
“Meet me for dinner tonight,” Greyson said, setting down his coffee cup.
“You might be too bossy for me. That wasn’t even a question,” I responded, furrowing my brow. “You can’t just tell me what to do. How do you know I’m free? And I suppose you get to just pick the place and time again without my opinion?”
“I’m sorry Mallory, I’m apparently not good at this,” he said apologetically. "I just… I’m drawn to you. You intrigue me more than anyone else I’ve met. We can go anywhere you want tonight, I just want to go out with you. Please, have dinner with me tonight?”
Six Rules: Book Two in the SIX Series Page 3
