Rm W/a Vu (25 page)

I lean in to press my lips to his, but when they’re a hairsbreadth away, he whispers, “You’re going to be late.”

I move my head back and forth, allowing my lips to lightly brush his. “You’re doing it again,” I tell him softly. “Being a tease.”

He refuses to acknowledge my accusation with anything more than a smirk. “You should go get dressed; I’ll clean up.”

“All right. But this isn’t finished,” I warn, leaning in and pecking his lips before hopping off my chair.

After quickly dressing, I grab my car keys off of my dresser and my book bag off the floor as I make my way out of my room. By the time I reach the bottom of the stairs, Greyston is there, holding a travel mug out for me.

“For you, beautiful,” he says. “Have a good day.”

 I hum, brushing my nose over his. “You too.”

Inhaling deeply, Greyston groans. “Okay, you should go before I force you to play hooky with me all day.”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, my eyes moving back and forth between his and watching conflict spark in them. “That actually sounds like a lot more fun.”

“Go on,” he says, his eyes showing just how much he’s struggling with letting me go. “I’ll see you when you get home from work.”

“’Kay.” Walking out the door isn’t easy; it’s almost like it’s the last step to accepting that my fantastic weekend really is over.

With a depressing sigh, I climb up into my car and buckle up. When I slip the key into the ignition and turn it, the engine clicks a few times, so I pump the clutch repeatedly to force it to turn over. Nothing. “Come on,” I grumble, turning the key again. “Don’t do this to me.” I repeat this process several times, only to get the same results. Abso-freakin-lutely nothing.

Now I’m not just sad that my weekend is over, I’m pissed off that my week is starting off so crappy. I unbuckle my seatbelt, angrily flinging it back against the window, grab my bag as I throw my door open, and storm back into the house.

Greyston is just coming down the stairs in his trunks, and for a brief moment I forget all about my stupid car. Because he’s half-naked and halfway between our bedrooms and me.

Then he has to ask the question that reminds me why I was upset. “What’s wrong?”

“My stupid engine won’t turn over.” I grab my phone and start flipping through my contacts to find a cab company.

“Who are you phoning?”

“A cab. I don’t have time to take a bus. I’m going to be late as it is now.”

I’ve just found the number I need when Greyston’s hand appears over mine, blocking the screen to my phone. “I’ll give you a ride.”

It’s sweet of him to offer, but I feel guilty that I’m robbing him of his morning off. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to have to give up your morning,” I tell him. “I’ve got some cash. It’s fine.”

“Juliette, I’m not going to make you take a taxi when I can go get dressed and give you a ride.” He sounds resolute, so I just nod. A smile spreads across his face as he lets go of my hand, and he rushes back upstairs, re-emerging about two minutes later, fully dressed.

“Thanks,” I say as he holds the door open for me, closing and locking it once we’re outside. “For the ride.”

“Anytime, Juliette.” He opens my car door for me and shuts it once my legs are safely inside, then runs around and climbs in next to me. “I’ll have someone come over and take a look at your car this afternoon.”

We arrive on campus a little while later, and Greyston parks near the doors. He hops out while I struggle to untangle the straps of my bag from around my ankles. How it happened, I have no idea; I’m just glad I noticed it
before
trying to get out of the car.

My door opens as I free my right ankle, and Greyston is holding out his hand for me. One look around at the students who’ve stopped to see what’s going on forces my cheeks to warm. But it doesn’t stop me from taking his hand. Nothing ever would.

“Thanks again for the ride.” Greyston closes my door and pulls me closer, the warmth of his body making every inch of me hum. “I’ll, uh, find a ride to work, and I bet Katie can drive me home afterward.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear me. “What time is your last class over?”

“Three. But, Greyston—”

“I’ll be here at three and drive you to work,” he says, not letting me finish.

I shake my head. “No, Greyston. It’s out of your way.”

“Not really. I’ve got meetings nearby this afternoon. I’ll see you at three.” He leans down to give me a chaste kiss and then straightens up. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

I’m just walking away, my fingers sliding along the palm of his hand until only our fingertips are touching. Before we lose connection, his hand reclaims mine, and he pulls me back to him. Our chests collide, expelling all the air between our bodies and my book bag falls heavily to my side while he’s still got a hold of my other hand behind my back, our fingers now woven together. There’s a familiar spark in his eyes, and this excites me, making me forget all about the people milling around us.

“You forgot something,” he tells me in that low, gravelly voice that makes all of my senses numb to anything but him. His other hand comes up to cradle my face, and he lowers his lips to mine.

I don’t mean to, but the minute he kisses me, I whimper, drop my bag the last few inches to the ground, and bring that hand up to lie on his chest right above his pounding heart. His thumb moves slowly over my cheekbone, and the fine hairs all over my body stand on end. Pushing up on the tips of my toes, I curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as he takes my bottom lip between his and traces it with his tongue.

There’s nothing in this world I enjoy more than being kissed by Greyston. At least, not yet, anyway.

Apparently I’m no longer in control of anything I do whenever Greyston’s lips are on mine, because it’s Greyston who ends our kiss, pressing his forehead to mine and smiling.

Panting breathlessly, I try to calm my racing heart. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

“Just proving a point,” is all he says.

My eyes snap open, and I shake my head. “And what point is that?”

Instead of answering me right away, Greyston’s head lifts away from mine and his eyes drift off to focus on something behind me. Slowly, I turn my head to follow his gaze and find Ben standing several yards away. “Oh, I see.” I smile. “He looks a little upset.”

“Good,” Greyston responds, tightening his hand around mine gently and drawing my eyes back to his. “Juliette, I’d like to take you out on a date tomorrow night.”

I nod, a smile slowly spreading across my face. “I’d like that.”

Greyston’s smile rivals my own before he kisses my nose. “Okay, you should head to class. I’ll see you in a few hours, beautiful.”

My heart flutters each and every time he calls me that. Greyston releases my hand and bends down to pick my discarded bag up for me. I don’t head right inside, choosing to wait until his car is out of sight. When it is, I turn around and come face to face with Ben.

Nothing he might have to say interests me, and I sure as hell don’t want him to sour my once-again good mood, so I side-step around him and proceed toward the building. He’s clearly dense, because he doesn’t seem to take the glaringly obvious hint, instead taking it as an invitation to follow me.

“You know, Ben, I could have you charged with stalking,” I threaten. “I’m pretty sure my father wouldn’t even bat an eye.”

He laughs, apparently mistaking what I’ve said for a joke. Greyston’s right; he’s a twit. “You know, you have a lot of nerve, Juliette,” he tells me. “You get mad at me for screwing Delilah, when you were stepping out on your sugar daddy with Erik on Friday night.”

His accusation stops me dead in my tracks, right in the middle of the hall. I turn to face him, glaring daggers that I hope to hell will maim him beyond recognition. When it doesn’t work, I contemplate thrusting my knee into his groin and dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him venomously. “And even if you did, what you have to say means exactly jack-shit to me anymore, Ben.”

“So, you didn’t leave the party the other night with Erik all over you?” he demands, sounding somewhat jealous. “Because that’s what a few people have been saying. I bet your sugar daddy—”

“Would you grow the hell up and stop calling him that?” I demand, growing more and more annoyed the longer I stick around to listen to his inane prattling.

Not wanting to hear another word, I turn on my heel and begin to walk away when Ben calls after me. “I don’t get it; what does he have that I don’t have?”

I refuse to stop, instead turning and walking a few slow steps backward as I shrug. “You mean, besides basic respect for our relationship?” Ben remains quiet, and I smirk cheekily. “Me.”

At the end of the day, Daphne meets me by the front entrance and walks with me outside. She’s rambling on excitedly about her psych class while we make our way to the lot. It isn’t until Greyston comes into view that she clams up—or maybe I just can’t hear her because he’s smiling crookedly at me. It’s more likely that, because Daphne isn’t known for going mute for anything.

He’s parked his car right at the end of the sidewalk and is leaning against the passenger side of his car, smiling wide when our eyes meet. As if that’s not enough to make every single bone in my body turn into pudding, he’s wearing a suit and tie. He pushes himself off his car, and I pick up the pace until we meet halfway. His arms encircle my waist, mine his neck, and he pushes his face into the crook of my neck, his breath tickling me.

“Hey,” I whisper, teasing his soft hair with my fingertips. “I want to introduce you to someone.” I turn around to see Daphne smiling wide. One of Greyston’s hands remains on my waist, always keeping a physical connection between us. “Greyston, this is my friend, Daphne. Daphne, this is Greyston.”

Greyston outstretches his free arm. “It’s a pleasure, Daphne. Juliette’s told me so much about you."

Smiling even wider, Daphne takes Greyston’s hand and begins to shake it enthusiastically. “I’ve heard so many things.”

This makes Greyston laugh, and I blush when he looks down at me with a cocky grin and an arched brow. “I’ll bet you have. Though, I’m not sure how much of it was based on fact. Am I right?”

“There may be a possibility that I confided in Daphne about a thing or two,” I tell him, reaching for his wrist and glancing at his watch. “Shoot, we should get going. I’ll talk to you later, Daphne?”

“Sounds good! Nice meeting you, Greyston.”

Greyston takes my bag and opens my door. I’m just about to step into the car when he grabs my upper arm and stops me, smiling as he leans down and gently presses his lips to mine.

“I never realized just how much I could miss that,” I whisper, bringing my hand up to grip his tie. “By the way, this suit? It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

Chuckling, Greyston nods toward the car. “Come on, let’s get you to work, shall we?”

I sigh. “If we have to.”

“What time do you get off tonight?” Greyston asks as he pulls out of the lot. He realizes what he’s said before I can say or do anything, and he starts laughing. “Get off
work
.” He shakes his head at himself. “I’m sorry.”

Honestly, I find it comforting to know that I’m not the only one who says ridiculously inappropriate things at the worst possible times. Smiling, I place my hand on his arm and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Nine-thirty.” I glance over at him. “I’m closing tonight, so I’ll grab a cab home.”

“Not a chance.” I’m about to protest again, but before I can, Greyston continues. “I told you I’d help you out until your car was fixed, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“No,” I protest, turning my upper body to him as much as possible in my seatbelt. “Greyston, it’s too much. I’ll figure something else out.”

“It’s really not a problem, Juliette. I don’t understand why you won’t let me help you.” He seems almost disappointed that I’m so quick to refuse his help.

Dropping my eyes to my hands, I shrug. “I just don’t want you to have to rearrange your entire life because my car is a piece of crap.”

His warm hand moves from the gearshift to my thigh, making me inhale shakily. “It’s really not a problem. I don’t mind rearranging a few things to make this work.”

“Fine,” I concede, placing my hand over his. “But don’t do anything that might jeopardize your work. If you can’t drive me or pick me up for whatever reason, please let me know so I can figure something else out. Promise me?”

“Okay. I promise.”

When we arrive at the café, I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean across the console to give Greyston a kiss. “Okay, I’ll see you later, then. Thanks again for the ride.”

The minute I open the door, I see Katie is alone behind the counter and there’s a lineup that almost reaches the door. I decide not to wait the additional twenty minutes before my shift is supposed to start. Instead, I rush behind the counter without changing into my uniform so I can make Katie’s orders as she rings them in.

Within fifteen minutes, we’re caught up.

“Thanks for starting early,” Katie says, wiping the counter down.