Toxic Girl

Chapter Seventeen

I hand in my resume to the manager of the restaurant, thanking him and then walking out. I’ve applied for work at ten different places today, and it feels good to be productive. My phone vibrates with a text message from London. She had replied telling me to call her, which I’d forgotten to do.

Can’t even call your sister back, huh?

I roll my eyes and text back.

Sorry, busy with uni. Is everything okay?

She doesn’t instantly reply so I put my phone away and continue walking down the street. I stop when I come across a bar, checking it out before walking in. The place is completely dead. There’s a guy standing at the bar, writing something down on a notebook. He’s good-looking enough, with dirty blond hair, tanned skin, and a nice build. He looks up as I get close.

“Hello,” he says, putting the pen down and smiling.

“Hi,” I say, looking around. “Nice place.”

“Thanks, I’ll tell the owner you said so.”

“Is the owner in?” I ask, taking a seat on the stool in front of him.

He smirks. “He is. Why?”

“I was kind of wondering if you guys were looking to hire someone,” I say, feeling a little sheepish. I’d tried to look professional today, so I chose to wear a white shirt and tailored black pants.

“Have you ever worked at a bar before?” he asks, rubbing the scruff on his chin.

Toxic serves drinks. Does that count? “No, not really.”

“How about we give you a trial run? You can come in tomorrow, and we can see how you go,” he says.

“Really?” I ask. “Don’t you have to check with the owner?” He smiles, and I pause. “You’re the owner, aren’t you?”

“In the flesh,” he replies. “Wear all black tomorrow. Does six work for you?”

“Six is perfect, thank you, Mr…”

“Please, call me Aiden,” he says, putting out his hand to shake mine. “And you are?”

“Paris,” I reply. “Thanks so much, you won’t regret this,” I tell him, letting go of his hand and standing up. As I walk away, I’m sure I hear him say, “I sure hope not.”

Two long days have passed since Grayson and I last spoke. I ignore the looks a few of the guys give me as I walk to my class. I assume they are friends of Jake and have heard all about me, so I pretend that I don’t see them staring. Grayson is already sitting in his seat when I arrive, staring down at his hands. I slide into my chair, and he instantly looks up.

“Hey,” he says softly. I devour the sight of him, his messy hair, and his dark eyes. The five o’clock shadow is new, and completely attractive.

“Hi,” I reply, pulling out my folder.

“How have you been?” he asks, as if it’s been so long since we last saw each other. I guess it kind of does feel that way.

“Okay. You?”

He swallows, eyes darting around before looking straight at me. “I miss you.”

I miss him too. But does that change anything? “I miss you too, Gray.”

“I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you, Paris,” he says, drawing in a breath. “I never should have spoken to you that way. You don’t deserve that. You hurt me though, babe. To know that in the end, there was a whole different side to you that I had no idea about.”

“There isn’t another side of me, Grayson. I just did what I thought I had to do.”

“I wish you could have come to me. It hurts even more that you couldn’t,” he says, closing his eyes for a second.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I know,” he says. Our eyes connect and hold, until the lecturer speaks, ruining the moment.

The class passes in a blur, and soon it’s time to go. Grayson walks behind me, close but not touching, and pulls me to his bike without a word. I’m about to hop on when I see Dylan walking toward us. Grayson ignores her, and holds the helmet up for me to slide onto my head. He gets on, and I slide on behind him, wrapping my arms around him.

“Thanks for the ride yesterday, Grayson,” Dylan calls out, all the while staring at me. He gave her a ride? What the fuck? Grayson tenses, but ignores her, starting the bike and driving off. I seethe all the way to his house, envisioning different scenarios. By the time we arrive at his house, I’m sure there is steam coming out of my ears. I jump off the bike as soon as it comes to a stop and pull my helmet off. He does the same, putting his hands up in a ‘calm down’ gesture.

“Before you start yelling and jumping to assumptions, there was a dinner at my parents’ house. Her family was there, and she needed a lift home because her parents stayed longer. I drove her home in my car, and that’s it,” he says. I grit my teeth and walk to his door, not saying anything as he unlocks it and opens it for me to enter.

“You drove her home and that’s it? She didn’t try anything?” I ask when we’re settled in his living room.

He rubs the back of his neck. “She was flirting; I told her not to even bother, because I’m not going there again.”

“I see. When was the last time you did go there?” I ask boldly, really wanting to know this answer. Something doesn’t add up. Dylan keeps acting like she has a chance with him, like she knows something I don’t. And I don’t like it.

Grayson leans back on the couch watching me. “The day we met.”

Wait, what? You have to be kidding me. The first day we spoke…

“Babe, we weren’t together then. We’d only just met and—”

“I see,” I say again, cutting him off. But I don’t see, not really. It’s true we weren’t together then. I suppose I have no right to be angry, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt me.

“Did you not feel the connection between us that first day?” I ask him.

“What? Of course I did,” he says, standing up and walking over to where I sit on the other couch. He sits down next to me and tries to put his arms around me. I push them away, and slide over as far as I can go.

“No wonder she looks at me so smugly all the time,” I muse.

“She’s nothing, Paris. You’re overthinking it. It isn’t like what we have between us. With her, it’s just sex, pure and simple. It was release without emotion,” he says, his eyes pleading with me to understand. “It was different, and I knew it. After I met you, there was no going back to that. I didn’t want to be with anyone else, and me being with Dylan proved that. I told her that night that it wasn’t going to happen again, and it hasn’t.”

I shrug both shoulders. “We weren’t together,” I say. Maybe if I keep saying it, I’ll believe it. Grayson wraps me in his arms, and I don’t pull away. I don’t do anything. I just sit there, kind of dazed and kind of heartbroken.

“We weren’t together, but you’re still hurting, and that kills me,” he says, pulling me onto his lap, and rubbing my back soothingly. I put my face in the crook of his neck, my thoughts running a thousand miles an hour.

“Do you ever think that we’re just not meant to be together?” I ask him.

His whole body tenses. “Never,” he says, his voice strong. “Never has that once crossed my mind. We just need to be more open with each other, I guess. Stop keeping things from each other. All of this could have been avoided with a little honesty.”

He’s completely right; it could have. I mean, we would have still ended up angry or upset with one another, but it might have turned out better than this.

“That’s true,” I say, sighing into his neck. “I don’t want to even think about you with another woman. It makes me crazy.”

“It’s the past, babe. There’s no point dwelling on what ifs. But I’m here with you now and I’m not going anywhere.”

I stay silent, mulling his comments over.

“If you tell me about your debt, and how much you owe, I’ll pay it off for you,” he says in a careful tone.

I lift my head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“How much?”

“Ten grand left to pay.”

“That’s it? Babe, I’ll pay that right now. Just tell me where to send it,” he says. “And you don’t owe me anything. At all. No expectations. Nothing. Consider it a gift for putting up with me,” he says, lip twitching. “And for giving me you, the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“What if we don’t work out?” I ask.

He stills, but replies instantly. “I told you, you don’t owe me anything. Whether we’re together or not. There’s no catch.”

It feels good to have someone taking care of me for a change, but I don’t feel right about accepting any money from him or anyone else. “I don’t know…”

“How did you get into debt?” he asks.

“My sister got into debt and couldn’t pay it. So it’s not really my debt, but…”

“Wait, what? Why can’t your sister pay for it?” he asks, practically growling.

“I don’t know. We aren’t even close, but I’m older than her, and I didn’t want anything to happen to her. The guy she owed the money to was threatening her. At the end of the day, we are still blood. I told him I’d get him the money. He said I could pay it off. I think he felt sorry for me cleaning up London’s messes.”

“I can’t believe this shit,” Grayson snaps.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? Your sister is obviously taking advantage of you and making you deal with her problems. You should tell her to pay it her damn self,” he says, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

I shrug. “It is what it is. I couldn’t let her get beaten up, or worse.”

“That’s why you were stripping? To pay for her debt?” he asks, seething.

I nod. His fists clench. “Little bitch,” he mutters.

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about.”

He looks up at the ceiling. “And you’re still protecting her. Un-fucking-believable.”

“Yeah, well, she’s the only sister I have. And at least she talks to me now and again.”

Unlike my brother.

“This is the first time you’ve even spoken about your sister,” he says, massaging my shoulders.

“Yeah, nothing much to say.” I suddenly remember that I have work tonight, and I sit up. “Shit, I have work at six, can you take me home?”

“Work?” he asks, mouth hanging open.

I roll my eyes. “Not at Toxic. I got a new job at a bar called Ivy Lounge. It’s close by.”

He nods. “I know that place. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Come on, I’ll take you home. Do you need a lift to work?” he asks, lifting my hand to his mouth and kissing it.

“No, it’s okay. It’s only a ten minute walk, and if I’m there late, I’ll just catch a cab home.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” he says, shaking his head.

“I don’t like to be an inconvenience.”

He gapes. “Are you serious? I’d sit there your whole shift, watching you, if you wanted me to. And I wouldn’t complain one bit, because I wouldn’t mind.”

A smile forms on my lips. “You wouldn’t mind, but I would.”

“I know,” he grumbles. “Come on, let’s get you home then.”

We walk to his bike hand in hand.