Grayson: A Bad Boy Romance

by Love, Amy

  “I don’t trust that motherfucker.” West’s voice is grim, and his expression is stern as he looks pensively out at the sea.

  “You’re not the only one, my friend. But what other choice do we have?” Grayson claps West on the shoulder and heads over to the outdoor gym equipment on the beach before the conversation can go any further.

  He doesn’t want to talk about Morrison, and all the emotions and memories that the name stirs up. As he pushes through the pain, doing one pull-up after another, unbidden a face comes into his head, the face that he couldn’t get off his mind all night. She is the real reason that he’d barely slept, tossing and turning until he’d figured it was pointless to even pretend that he was still sleeping. He wonders what she’s doing right now, wonders if she was glad to see him.

  “What’s the matter, genius? You lose count?” West’s voice breaks through Grayson’s reverie.

  He realizes that he’s dropped down from the bar and is just standing, staring out at nothing. I really must be losing it, he thinks. He forces the thought of Adriana out of his mind, focusing on the repetitive movements of the pull-ups, then push-ups, then crunches, then sprints and everything else West throws at him.

  By the time they’re on their way back to Grayson’s house for a shower and a high-protein meal, the cafés and restaurants along the beach are starting to fill up with the brunch crew. The smell of scrambled eggs and toast reaches his nose, and he almost starts salivating. It had been a hard work out; he’d pushed himself even more than usual. It was the only way to get Adriana out of his mind.

  “Grayson Fletcher!” The sound of his name being called makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around, shading his eyes from the sun, which is already blasting down. He almost crosses his fingers hoping against hope that it isn’t one of his one night stands looking for a re-match; he really isn’t in the mood to fight off the bimbo patrol today.

  But instead of a silicon-pumped groupie, he sees a redhead waving at him from under an enormous hat and dark glasses that take up most of her face. He gets a wave of panic that she might indeed be someone he’s slept with, before she takes off the glasses and winks at him cheekily. He breathes an audible sigh of relief, recognizing her from the night before.

  “Willow, right? Adriana’s friend.” Grayson takes a few steps towards her table, looking askance at West who throws him a knowing glare and waves him on.

  “That’s right. How you doing? Take a load off.” She points towards an empty seat opposite hers.

  “Thanks, but I’m kind of sweaty and gross, I wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite.” He throws her his lopsided charming smile, before the panic rises up in him again. “Is Adriana with you?” He wonders if he sounds as desperate to Willow as he does in his own head.

  Willow gives him an appraising look from behind her dark glasses. “Would it be a good or a bad thing if she were?”

  Grayson frowns at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I’m trying to figure you out, Grayson Fletcher. Your reputation precedes you. You’re the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, but the way you looked at Adrie last night tells a different story.” Willow lifts her glasses and pins him with a direct look. All traces of the charming PR girl are gone, replaced by a woman who means business. “You’ve hurt her once already, if you have any plans to do it again, then you should leave now.” She settles herself back into her seat and picks up her menu. “Now, what’s good here?”

  Grayson looks at her with his mouth open. “You’re the one that called me over here, and now you’re warning me off Adriana? How does that make any sense?”

  “Like I said, Fletcher, I’m trying to figure you out. Adriana is a very dear friend, and I’m working out if you deserve her.” Willow doesn’t even look up from the menu she’s perusing as she says the words.

  “Deserve her? Did I miss something? We haven’t seen each other in close to ten years!” Grayson realizes that his voice is getting louder, but he can’t seem to contain his frustration.

  “Do you believe in soulmates, Fletcher?” Willow asks the question in the same tone that she might use to order an orange juice.

  “Oh my God, you’re early! What happened? Did the world as we know it turn upside down? It doesn’t matter; I don’t care; All I care about right now is breakfast, I’m starv—” The moment Adriana takes in Grayson standing in front of Willow is written plain across her face, and she literally stops dead in her tracks, blushing to the ends of her jet black hair.

  ADRIANA

  She pulls at the old denim shorts that she had thrown on, almost unconsciously, feeling dangerously underdressed around him. “Grayson.” She breathes his name out before she pulls herself together. “What are you doing here?” She tilts her head taking in his running shorts and top plastered to his sweaty body. He looks sexy and masculine, and she feels herself clench her thighs together automatically.

  “Adriana.” There it was, that damn musical way that he said her name. “I was just out running. What a coincidence seeing each other again, right?” He shifts his weight from one foot to another like he’s uncomfortable.

  Adriana wonders to herself why he keeps sticking around if it’s so unpleasant for him to be in her vicinity. “Yeah, what a coincidence.” She sneaks a look at Willow who is being uncharacteristically silent, burying her face deeper and deeper into the menu. “After all these years living in Florida and never seeing you, I’ve run into you two days in a row.” She wants to slap herself on the forehead for stating the obvious.

  Grayson looks at her and then focuses on something just behind her left shoulder. His insistence in not looking at her is starting to make her wonder if he has a problem with his eyesight or if he thinks she was hideous. “I’m sorry I had to leave last night; I had an early start.” He gestures towards a man on a bike on the other side of the street.

  “Is that your coach?” Adriana nods towards the bald man who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but under the burning morning sun. That head must burn like a furnace under this sunshine. He could probably use some shade.” She waves at the man, and he makes his way over hurriedly, standing underneath the restaurant’s canopy, grateful to be out of the sun. Poor guy, he had just been waiting for an invitation.

  “Thanks, I was starting to wonder if Grayson here was going to wait until he could cook his morning eggs on my head.” He rubs his reddening bare head.

  “We should try that some time!” Grayson smiles at his coach, and it’s the first genuine smile that Adriana has seen from him. It conjures up memories that she has to stamp hard on to keep at bay.

  “I know the feeling, my pale friend. I fry like a chip in this godforsaken place.” Willow gestures to her enormous hat and glasses in explanation.

  “Why do you live in Miami if you don’t like the sun?” Grayson frowns at her as if she were an unknown species.

  “I didn’t say I don’t like the sun; it’s the sun that doesn’t like me so much. We’re not all blessed with Adriana’s genes.” She casts a rueful eye at the tanned legs poking out of Adriana’s shorts, leading Grayson’s gaze towards them. He stares at them for a beat and licks his lips, a sensual gesture that Adriana can feel in her very core.

  He shakes himself out of wherever his mind had gone and snaps his attention back to his coach so quickly that Adriana wonders if she had imagined the whole thing. “West, this is Adriana and Willow. Adriana and I went to high school together.”

  She reaches out her small hand to shake West’s large one. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

  “Sir, isn’t that what pretty young things call old men?” His eyes crinkle as he smiles jovially at her, and Adriana can’t help but smile right back. “Just call me West.”

  “Alright, West.” Adriana beams brightly at him.

  “Be careful who you bat those beautiful eyes at, Adriana, you’re likely to stop traffic.” West stares into her green eyes intensely, like they’re something he’s never seen before.

 
“Thank you.” Automatically, she looks down at her sneaker-clad feet, embarrassed at the compliment. When she looks back up, she notices that a shadow has passed across Grayson’s face, like he’s mad about something.

  “You can let go of her hand now, West. She’ll probably be needing it back.” Grayson looks pointedly at the hand that West is still holding until his coach shrugs at Adriana and releases it.

  Adriana tries to figure out what that was all about and sees that Willow is giving Grayson a similar look of curiosity.

  “I guess we should get going.” His voice is gruff, as he motions towards West.

  “Sure.” Adriana tries to ignore the feeling like she’s just been kicked in the stomach. “It was good to see you, Gray.” It’s the first time she has called him by his nickname, and she had said it more tenderly, more intimately than she had intended. But she couldn’t help it, it had reminded her of all those walks, of all the talks they had, the memory of his hand on her shoulder as he guided her home.

  “You too, Adrie.” Her name is soft on his lips, and she feels her whole body warm at his words.

  As he turns to go, West throws him a look that she can’t quite identify. “Ladies, it was a pleasure.” West nods to them both and fixes Adriana with a look. “Hope to see you again soon.”

  As she watches Grayson start to walk away, she has to stop herself from taking a step towards him to say…Well, that was just it. What was she going to say? Even she didn’t know. All she knows is that thinking she might not see him again, that he might walk out of her life a second time, is more painful than she can put into words.

  All these thoughts are circling around her mind, as Grayson comes to a stop and turns around to face her again. His brow is furrowed, like he’s frustrated or angry. She wonders if there’s ever a time when he doesn’t look like he’s conflicted about something. It’s that same look that he’d given her all those years ago, like he was fighting with himself about something.

  GRAYSON

  Impulse, he had worked to stop being ruled by his impulses. West had taught him to fight strategically, not just with his heart, but with his head, too. All that training had gone out of the window with Adriana. He was about to do something impulsive.

  “How would you two like to come to my fight? If you’ve never seen a MMA match, I think you might be surprised.” Grayson looks between Willow and Adriana, including them both in the invitation, but his eyes keep on darting back to Adriana’s again and again. It’s hard for him not to look at her. Once he’s captured by those green eyes with their flecks of gold, he’s in trouble.

  Willow is looking at him with interest again, like she’s studying him, sizing him up; it’s unnerving. When it becomes clear that Adriana isn’t going to say anything, she pipes up. “Wow, a real cage fight. That sounds great, doesn’t it Adrie?” Willow has to physically reach out to prod her friend who seems to be frozen in position.

  Adriana gives her a bemused look. “But, Will, you said yourself you hate blood. Ouch!” She rubs her forearm where Willow has pinched her. “What I mean to say is that’s really generous of you, Grayson, but I do shift work, so I don’t know if I’d be able to make it, and I’m sure you have other gir—I mean, people who you’d like to give the tickets to.”

  She twists her hands, like she always used to when she was nervous. He thinks that it is incredible how many things about her are coming back to him now. She bites her bottom lip, like she’s trying to stop herself from talking. Goddamn, she’s beautiful, he thinks. But not only that, she seems to be completely oblivious to the effect that she has on men. Her short shorts make her caramel legs look like they go on for miles, and she can make a white tank top look like the sexiest thing anyone has ever worn.

  He doesn’t bother to ask himself why he wants to persuade her to go to the fight, he knows that it’s because he doesn’t want this to be the last time they see each other. It can’t be. “Come on, Adrie. It’ll be fun. For old times sake?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets them as he sees the way she stands up straighter, bristling. For her, old times meant Grayson leaving her hanging without a word. He’d let her believe that he cared about her, and then he’d just disappeared.

  He winces, ready to feel the barrage of abuse that she was more than entitled to lay down on him, but it doesn’t come. He sees Willow shaking her head in despair out of the corner of his eye, clearly thinking what an idiot he is. Join the club, he thinks. But his attention is focused on Adriana.

  Instead of reminding him of the way he’d treated her, she lifts her chin up, looking determined, classy. “Sure, why not? Thanks Grayson.” Her words are clipped, short, nothing like the lilting way that she usually spoke, a hangover from speaking Spanish at home with her dad.

  He’d upset her, and he hates himself for it. “Great, that’s really great, really great.” He clamps his mouth shut to stop himself from repeating the same word over and over again.

  Willow sighs audibly, as if she can’t believe how excruciating this encounter is turning out. She grabs a pen from her bag and scribbles something down on a napkin, holding it out for Grayson to take. “That’s Adrie’s number. You can text her the details of the fight.”

  Adriana gives her friend a look that would have done a pretty good job of melting polar ice caps, and Willow studiously ignores her. It’s clear that Adriana isn’t happy that he now has a way of contacting her, but it doesn’t matter, he still gets a little thrill from knowing that he’s going to see her again.

  “Sure, well, I’ll be in touch.” He waves at them both and then instantly regrets it, wondering if he looks as pathetic as he feels. “Enjoy your breakfast, bon appetit.” He turns on his heels and walks as quickly as he can away from the restaurant, motioning for West to follow him. Bon appetit? What the hell was that? He doesn’t think he’s ever used that phrase before, and now that he’d said it he feels like the biggest douchebag imaginable.

  He growls, as he sees West’s shoulders shaking. “What the fuck was that?” The man can barely get the words out he’s laughing so much. “You looked like you were going to pull my arm off and beat me to death with it if I didn’t let go of Adriana’s hand! Real slick, kid, real slick.”

  “Not now, West.” Grayson feels his face heat, wondering absently if it’s the first time he’s blushed in years. The Adriana Effect, he thinks. But West wasn’t wrong. Grayson had been jealous of his coach touching her, complimenting her, and making her smile with her whole body. It should have been him, not West. You had your chance, Gray, he reminds himself, and you blew it.

  “Don’t worry about it, kid. We’re all fools when it comes to beautiful women, even you.” West gives him a look out of the corner of his eye and wraps his arm around Grayson’s shoulder. “At least now I understand where your head was this morning. A girl like that is enough to throw any man off his game.” West sounds thoughtful, but Grayson isn’t in the mood to find out what’s going on in his coach’s head; there’s too much going on in his own.

  He remains silent as he picks up the pace, breaking into a run, like he’s just re-energized, powered up. The Adriana Effect, he smiles to himself. He holds tight to the napkin with Adriana’s number on it, feeling more hopeful than he has in years.

  ADRIANA

  “You mind telling me what that was all about?” Adriana flops down into the seat opposite Willow, succumbing to that weak-kneed feeling that she has come to associate with being around Grayson.

  “What was what about?” Willow looks at her all wide-eyed and innocence.

  “You hate blood. What are you going to do at the fight, wear a blindfold?” Adriana levels the approaching waiter with a glare that tells him she’s so not ready to order.

  “I’ll figure something out.” Willow shrugs nonchalantly, before she buckles under the intensity of Adriana’s gaze. “Alright, alright, it’s like you’ve got little laser beams hiding in those peepers of yours.” She finally puts the menu down. “I was only trying to hel
p. He likes you, you know?”

  Adriana looks at Willow with her mouth open. “Who?”

  “Who? The homeless dude over there carrying the sign, ‘Will drop pants for money’! Grayson! Who the hell did you think I was talking about?” Willow throws her hands up in despair.

  “Sorry, were we at different conversations? Because from where I was standing, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. He was uncomfortable and fidgety, and he wouldn’t even look at me half the time.” Adriana gnaws on her bottom lip, hating that she’d managed to catalogue a list of reasons that Grayson clearly didn’t want anything to do with her.

  “Oh honey,”—Willow lays a hand over Adriana’s—“that man likes you, is it really so hard to believe?”

  “He didn’t even remember me last night, Will. I had to remind him who I was. Do you have any idea how crushing that was for me?” Adriana puts her head down and repeatedly bangs it on the table, making their cutlery bounce and clatter.