Chantal Fernando

Toxic Girl

“I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

Acknowledgements

A huge thank you to the people that were with me every day as I wrote this book.

Ari - I could write a whole page thanking you.

Thank you for your amazing work and everything you do for me. I couldn’t live without you! Oh and thank you for the boxes full of tasty treats and presents! You spoil me! Love ya Cherry…

JC Emery - Thank you for the daily writing sprints, and the encouragement. I really appreciate it.

Pepper Winters - Thank you for being there for me. My signing buddy—I’m going to be seeing a lot of you this year. Lol. Next up- Edinburgh!

Thank you to my beta readers: Kara Brown, Stephanie Knowles, Claudia Juarez, Kimberly Brower and Alice Priday.

Kimberly - thank you so very much for your help on this book. You were honest and I really appreciate the time and effort you put in.

Kara - I annoy more than anyone else, sending her chapters of my work in progress at any random time. I appreciate the time you put in to help me. Thank you so much.

Thank you to my sister Tee, for everything you do for me. You’re my rock.

Becky at Hot Tree Editing - Thanks so much for all your hard work. I really enjoy working with you!

Jenny Sims - Thanks for your help!

A HUGE thanks to Rose and Tash at Forever Me Romance blog for everything they do for me!

Last but not least I want to thank my eldest son Ty. Even though he can’t read my books (and he’s asked), he’s my biggest fan. If you ask him, he will tell you what I’m writing, and all the books I’ve written in order of release.

I love you Ty. You, Tahj & Jax are the reason I breathe.

Never forget that.

I hope you all enjoy Toxic Girl!

Dedication

For my cousin Sasha.

Why? Because she knows exactly who I am…

And she loves me anyway.

Prologue

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, gathering courage.

I can do this. I know I can.

Why?

Because it’s amazing what you can do when you have no choice.

I keep my gaze downcast, not looking anyone in the eye.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look anyone in the eye again.

I swallow hard, and push everything out of my mind.

I push out why I’m here, why I need to be here.

I make my mind go blank.

I forget who I am.

Instead, I become who I need to be.

A Toxic Girl.

Chapter One

I clutch the strap to my bag, hitching it higher up on my shoulder. Saying I am overwhelmed is an understatement. There is little else I can do except stare wide-eyed at the uni I have transferred to. I am in my second year, new to town, and only know one person—my roommate, Anaya. The two of us are sharing a two-bedroom apartment about a five-minute walk away from here. The place isn’t anything to brag about, but it’s home for now.

Today is our first day. Anaya’s classes start a couple of hours before mine, so I’m left to fend for myself, but I keep hoping to see a flash of her red hair around campus. As I walk toward a three-story brick building, I hope it’s the one I’m supposed to be at. Anaya gave me a quick tour a few days ago, but I’m still slightly confused. I glance down at my class schedule, scanning it to find the room number again. I’m excited and nervous at the same time. Today is a new beginning for me, a fresh start. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

As I turn a corner in the direction I think I’m meant to be going, I walk straight into someone’s hard chest. A big, warm hand clasps my wrist, preventing me from falling on my ass.

“Sorry,” I mutter, as our eyes connect and hold. I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry as I take him in. He has dark brown eyes, twin dimples—which he’s currently showing off, and shaggy dark hair. He’s slightly unshaven, giving him a sexy, rugged appearance.

“You okay?” he asks as I gently pull my wrist away from his touch. He gives me an odd look, his brows furrowing.

“Fine,” I manage to say. For some reason, I can’t look away from him. I find myself staring at his dark eyes—framed by long, thick, black lashes. He’s tall and muscled. Holy hotness.

“I’m Grayson,” he says, looking down at me. His expression is open and curious, searching even.

I blink once, not replying. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

He clears his throat. “And you are?”

I bite my lip. “Paris,” I say. My voice comes out a little hoarse. He smells good. Really, really good.

“Paris,” he says to himself, as if testing out my name. If all the guys here look like him—let’s just say I’ve walked out of hell and straight into heaven. “It suits you.”

“Umm, thanks,” I say, shifting my feet.

He smirks and takes a step even closer, invading my personal space.

“Boundaries,” I say.

“What?” he asks, a smirk playing on his perfect mouth.

I take a step back. “Nothing.” I don’t have time for this. I need to get my ass to class. I mumble something about needing to go, and then head in the direction I think my class is in.

“Where are you off to?” he asks, gently catching my elbow.

“Ancient history,” I say, turning my body halfway around to face him.

“Ancient history is that way, Paris,” he says with a chuckle. I turn around to see him pointing in the opposite direction. Red-faced, I head toward where he’s pointing.

“See you around,” he calls out, then turns around and begins walking off. I ignore him, inhale deeply, square my shoulders, and walk to my class.

* * *

I take the first vacant seat I can find toward the back of the room, keeping my eyes down and not looking at anyone. I don’t need any attention; I get more than enough of that after school hours. Someone sits at the desk next to me, but I don’t look up or even risk glancing at them.

“Nice of you to save me a seat,” comes a deep familiar voice. His scent once again invades my senses.

Grayson.

“You’re in this class?” I ask, leaning back in my seat.

“I am. I would have walked you here, but I had to drop something off to my friend Bryce. He’s—”

I cut him off. “Okay.” I don’t know why he’s explaining himself to me.

“I just didn’t want you to think I was an asshole for not walking you to a class you obviously didn’t know how to get to,” he says.

“I got here just fine,” I point out.

“That you did,” he says. He turns his body toward me. “What class do you have after this?”

“Why?” I ask, suspicion lacing my tone.

“Just curious,” he says, grinning playfully. “Were you conceived in Paris?”

I almost fall out of my chair. “What kind of question is that?” I ask, gaping.

“Your parents named you it for a reason,” he says, shrugging.

“No, my mum just liked the name,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. Is he going to ask me questions throughout this whole class? I glance around. Maybe I can switch chairs with someone.

When I look back at him, his eyes are still on me. “I haven’t seen you around here.”

“Is that your version of a pick-up line?” I ask, pulling out my file and opening it. Everything is organized into categories and colour coded. Just the way I like it.

Silence. “Just being friendly, Paris.”

Great, now I feel like shit. “Want some gum?” I ask him, pulling some out of my pocket and offering him a piece to break the ice.

“Sure,” he says, showing off those dimples. He takes the piece from my hand, and my palm tingles from the contact of his fingers. This one is dangerous. The attraction is there—I can feel it, and I think he can feel it too. I offer him a slight smile, and then turn to face the front of the class.

The lecturer speaks, saving me from having to socialise. I keep my head faced to the front, my eyes locked on the man speaking. I pull out my purple pen and start jotting down notes, wanting to be on top of things from the get-go.

He clears his throat. “Can I borrow a pen?”

I put my pen down and turn my head to look at him. His warm brown eyes look at me expectantly, his dark hair curling behind his ears. I force myself to move my gaze away from his face, to stop taking in every inch of him.

“You came to your first day with no pen?” I ask, blinking slowly.

He shrugs and flashes me a boyish smile. I wonder if he knows that he could use that smile as a weapon, or if he’s somehow unaware of his charm. I hope it’s the latter, but most likely it’s the former. I open my pencil case, trying to find an appropriate-looking pen. Baby blue with sparkles, that’s going to have to do. I hand it over to him, making sure our hands don’t touch, and wait for him to complain about the girly pen. Instead, he surprises me by smiling and thanking me. I scrunch my eyebrows, turning back to face the front of the room. When I feel his gaze on me, I ignore it. When he keeps staring, I decide to say something.

I turn to him and tilt my head. “Okay, what?” I ask.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?” I ask him, trying to keep my tone casual. I push my light blond hair off my face and arch an eyebrow.

He fights a smile. “No, you don’t have anything on your face.”

“Then what?”

“Then nothing. You’re just beautiful, and I like looking at you,” he says, shrugging as if it’s no big deal.

“Oh,” I reply, apparently having nothing witty to say back to him. His lip twitches before he looks down at his work. Now it’s me who’s staring at him. He smiles knowingly, but keeps his eyes on the paper in front of him, and I force myself to look away. There is seriously something about him. Sean Paul’s “Other Side of Love” plays as my phone rings. I cringe, realising I forgot to put it on silent. I grab it out of my bra and turn the volume down. I look around to see everyone staring at me. Great.

“Nice place to put your phone,” Grayson says, his eyes twinkling in amusement. I roll my eyes and slide my phone into my bag, careful not to make eye contact with anyone else. I hear the lecturer ask a question, and I slide deeper into my chair hoping he doesn’t ask me. The chances are small, but I really don’t feel like talking in front of this new group of people. I’m not surprised when Grayson calls out the correct answer and the lecturer praises him.

“So …” he says, getting my attention. I turn to him and raise an eyebrow. He’s good-looking—I’ll give him that. Those dark eyes and dimples matched with a muscled athletic body … I can’t see many girls saying no to that. He smirks, and I know that he saw me check him out. Dammit.

“So?” I reply, staring back.

“Are you single?” he asks me. Straight-out, no games. I like that.

“Are you?” I counter.

He grins. “I am, and if I wasn’t, I would be now.”

What? “Am I supposed to be charmed?”

“Yes,” he says, smiling a little shyly this time. “At least, I hope so.”

I lift my shoulder in a shrug. “I guess I’m a little charmed. But not charmed enough.”

He chuckles at my reply, shaking his head at me in an amused way. “I guess I have my work cut out for me then.”

I fight a smile in return. “You have no idea.”

The rest of the class passes quickly, and soon I’m standing and shoving my books back into my bag. Grayson moves to stand in front of me and hands me back my pen.

“Keep it,” I tell him, quirking my lip. Can’t have him going to his next class without a pen. I pick up my bag and walk out of the class without looking back.

* * *

I take a bite out of my sandwich when someone sits next to me. I know without looking who it is by the light scent of his cologne.

“I’m pretty sure stalking is illegal,” I mumble into my sandwich, not looking up at him.

“Saw you sitting here alone and thought you might want some company.”

“You took me hiding under a tree as a cry for company?” I ask, fighting a smile.

I finally turn my head to look at him. He’s sitting against the tree with one leg stretched out and the other bent. His arm hangs off the bent leg, a drink held in his hand.

He gives me a crooked smile, making one of his dimples pop. I frown at him, wondering why he doesn’t react to my comments. “Saw a beautiful girl sitting alone, and I’m not one to miss an opportunity.”

I pick up my bottle of water and unscrew the lid. “I can see that.”

“So you’re a History major?” he asks when I don’t say anything else.

“Yep,” I say. “I love history.”

“Me too,” he says, and I turn my head just in time to see his grin. “What’s your next class?”

“Methodology of History,” I say, trying to plan my escape. I look at the time on my phone—an hour until class starts.

“Shit,” he says, and I glance over to see his face momentarily fall.

“What is it?” I ask, sipping on my water.

“I was going to take that class. I should have,” he says, biting his bottom lip.

I laugh. “I think you and I have spent enough time together today, don’t you?”

“Never,” he says, adding a cheeky smile. “Plus I know for a fact that I’m great company.”

“Who told you that?” I ask with a straight face. “Your mother? Because she doesn’t count.”

Grayson laughs at my comment, shaking his head at me. “Smart ass.”

“I try,” I reply, taking a sip of water.

He tilts his head to the side. “You never answered my question.”

“What question was that?” I ask.

“Are you single?”

“Why do you want to know?” I ask him, narrowing my eyes.

“I want to know if there’s any competition I should be aware of,” he replies, straight-faced.

I roll my eyes. “I’m single.”

“How single?” he asks, now grinning.

“Very single. But I’m also not looking for a relationship,” I tell him honestly.

He studies me. “I can work with that. Casual hook-ups work for me too.”

I throw my bottle of water at his head, and he bursts out laughing. Asshole.

“This,” I say, pointing between the two of us, “is as close as you’re getting to me, buddy.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asks, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

Men and their challenges. “No, no challenge,” I quickly backtrack.

“Challenge accepted,” he says, and then leans forward and rubs his thumb across my knuckles. I shiver at the contact and gape at the fact that he just touched me after what I told him.

“Personal boundaries,” I mutter under my breath, pulling my hand away. He’s about to speak when we’re interrupted.

“Hey, Grayson,” comes a feminine voice. I look up to see two girls standing in front of us, smiling at Grayson, and looking at me, maybe hinting for an introduction and sizing me up at the same time. This is exactly what I didn’t want. I’d prefer to remain anonymous. It’s easier that way, because I don’t want people to recognise me or to find out where I work. It seems that Grayson is becoming the exception.

One of the girls has dark brown hair and eyes and is staring at Grayson. She is dressed in classy designer clothes, not showing too much skin. The blond girl, who is the one that spoke, is slim and tall, with blue eyes and freckles splattered across her nose. I look at Grayson out of the corner of my eye as he stares up at the two intruders, his expression impassive.

He sighs. “Paris, this is my sister, Leah,” he says, nodding toward the brunette. “And that is her friend, Andrea.”

“Hello,” Leah says, giving me a genuine smile. “We’re going to see Dylan. You coming?” she asks.

He bites his top lip. “Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car in ten minutes,” he says.

“Okay, nice to meet you, Paris,” Leah says, grabbing her friend’s arm and walking away.

He looks right at me, almost as if he’s waiting for me to ask questions. But he doesn’t owe me any answers. We just met, so why would I even care?

“I have to go, but I’ll see you around,” he says, standing up and brushing the grass off his snug jeans. “Save me a seat,” he adds, winking before following his sister. See him around? My plan for today was to keep my head down, study my ass off, and not draw any attention to myself. I sigh, putting the rest of my lunch away, and grabbing my bag.

I’m sure that by tomorrow Grayson will have forgotten all about me.

Chapter Two

I’m one of those people who can’t get good grades without studying. I wish I was able to slack off, rock up to my exam, and ace it, but I’m not that lucky or that smart. I close my textbook after two hours of studying. I covered things we didn’t even go over today. Being the first day, it was mainly introduction work, covering the course syllabus. I decided to read up on next week’s work, so I will actually know what’s going on.

“Hey,” Anaya says as she walks in, throwing her bag down on the kitchen floor. “I’m starving.”

“I didn’t see you around today,” I say, tilting my head. Anaya opens the fridge door, and all I can see is her red hair sticking out over the top of the fridge door.

She swings the door shut with a push of her hip, a bottle of water in her hand. “I only had one class, remember? I went to work afterwards.”

Shit. I forgot about that.

“How was your day?” she asks, giving me a curious look.

“It was fine, why?” I ask.

“No reason. I’m going to stay at Paul’s tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow. What time do you have class?” she asks. Paul is Anaya’s current boyfriend. I try to hide my expression, secretly happy she won’t be home tonight. In fact, during the last week, she’s been at Paul’s more often than here, and that works for me just fine.

Perfectly, in fact.

“Just one class tomorrow, at ten,” I tell her.

She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll be home around five; do you want to hang out, watch movies or something?”

I hesitate before nodding. “Sure, sounds good.”

“All right, see you then,” she says, grabbing her bag and leaving our apartment. I make a sandwich and eat that for dinner, along with a crisp green apple.

Then I get dressed for work.

* * *

The next morning, I’m running late for my class. Holding my textbook and file against my chest, I walk as fast as I can, and sit down, sighing in relief that the class didn’t start without me. The lecturer seems to be taking his own cool time going through some papers on his desk.

“I hope this seat isn’t taken?”

I turn my head. “Not at all,” I reply, staring. Looks like Grayson is in my Religion, War, and Terror Unit as well.

He smiles, sitting down in the chair and putting his book on the table. “How are you?” he asks, leaning back in his chair and turning his body toward me. He’s wearing a blue and white flannel shirt that looks amazing on him. It stretches over his broad shoulders and toned arms.

“Fine, how are you?” I find myself asking. He just seems so friendly and genuine. Maybe he wouldn’t judge me if he got to know the real me? If only. There are some things that anyone will judge you for, no matter how they may seem upon first impression. He waves hello to a few other people in the class.

“Big night last night?” Grayson asks, his attention back on me.

I freeze. “No, why?”

His eyes drop to my lips. “You have a little…” he trails off, staring.

I wipe my fingers on my lips, coming away with a faint smear of red lipstick. “Oh right, that,” I say, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. I thought I had gotten it all off, but I guess I was wrong. I can only hope my eyes don’t have any black around them, from the eyeliner and mascara I had on last night.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, frowning. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it…”

“What if I just decided to wear red lipstick to school today? Your question would have been rude,” I point out.

He frowns. “You’re right; it would have. But I just assumed…”

“You know what they say about people that assume.”

He nods. “I’m sorry I said anything. It was rude, but I was curious about you and—”

I cut him off. “I went out to dinner last night.”

He’s silent for about ten minutes before he starts talking again. “Do you live with your parents?”

“Why? You planning on sneaking into my house?” leaves my mouth before I can stop it. I turn to look at him. He’s staring at me with a cheeky smirk on his gorgeous face.

“Are you flirting with me?” he asks with a straight face, blinking slowly a few times. I can’t help it, I start laughing, causing me to get evil looks from the students sitting around us.

“No, I’m not. And to answer your other question, no I don’t live with my parents.” Because I don’t have any.

“Where do they live?” he asks, leaning his cheek on his palm. He just has to keep pushing, doesn’t he?

“They passed away,” I say, looking away from him and straight ahead.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says quietly. He leans out and touches my shoulder, a silent show of support. I clear my throat and force a shrug.

“It happened a long time ago. I live with my roommate,” I say.

“Will she let me sneak in?” he teases, trying to lighten the mood.

“I think it’s me you need to win over, Grayson,” I say, winking at him. He laughs then, a deep sound, and I can’t keep my eyes off him as he does it.

“You’re right. Can I have your phone number?” he asks.

“No,” I reply, flashing him a smile and then turning to the front of the room. I can feel his eyes on me, but I pretend to be oblivious.

There is no point denying that something about Grayson has piqued my interest. But now is not the time for me to get involved with anyone.

* * *

“Paris!”

I turn when I hear Grayson’s voice. He’s walking toward me, holding a helmet in one hand. He’s wearing a pair of low slung jeans that I didn’t get to admire in class. I know that under that flannel shirt lies a perfectly muscled body; I can tell that from here. After class ended, I was the first to walk out without looking back. I didn’t think I’d be seeing him again until tomorrow.

“Where’s your car?” he asks, looking around.

“I walked here,” I tell him. I don’t have a car. I was just cutting through the car park.

“Can I give you a ride home?” he asks, looking hopeful. His dark eyes don’t leave mine.

I want to, I do. But I shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I live close by. Besides, I like to walk.”

He bites his bottom lip. “You know I’m just asking so I have an excuse to spend more time with you, right?”

I laugh. “I know. But stranger danger and all that,” I joke. Or at least try to joke.

His face falls a little, and I want to change my mind and say yes, but I don’t. Instead, I smile and say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re busy for the rest of the day?” he asks, brows rising. He shifts the helmet. Now he’s holding it in his other hand.

“Yeah, I have a few things I need to do.” Like wash my hair.

“You’re going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you?” he asks, smiling so both of his dimples pop out.

I shift on my feet, and look in the direction of my apartment. “I’m not trying to make anything difficult for anyone.”

“Hey,” he says, stepping closer to me and putting his warm palm on my cheek. He gently turns my head to look at him. “Will you let me take you out sometime? On a date?”

My eyes widen. “A date?”

He gives me a full-blown megawatt smile, and my mouth opens slightly.

“Yes, a date,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip before dropping his hand.

“You’re very… forward,” I mutter under my breath, feeling a little awkward being put on the spot like this. My eyes dart around before landing back on his face.

He licks his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. And those eyes. I’ve heard the saying ‘smile with your eyes’ before, but I’ve never actually seen someone smile with their eyes until now. The way he’s looking at me… I bite the inside of my cheek.

“When I want something, I tend to go for it,” he says, patiently waiting for me to reply.

Of course he does. “Look, Grayson—” I start, but he interrupts.

“You don’t have to answer now,” he says, smiling down at me. He leans forward and says quietly, “I’m a very patient man.”

With that, he turns away and mounts his motorcycle. I don’t watch him ride away; instead, I turn and walk home, his comments replaying over and over in my head.

Chapter Three

I’m having lunch the next day, under a tree, when Grayson joins me. “Is this going to be our lunch spot for the rest of the semester?” he asks casually, sitting down and pulling out a red apple.

“It’s going to be mine,” I reply, giving him a pointed look. He smiles, taking a bite of his fruit.

“Tell me something about you,” he says, turning his body to face me.

“Like what?”

“Anything,” he replies, staring at me with kind eyes. I sigh, and give in, racking my brain for something to tell him, and come up with nothing.

He laughs. “You really don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

I shrug. “I don’t really have anything to say.”

“I seriously doubt that,” he says. A group of three guys walking over toward us causes me to puff out a sigh. “What’s wrong?” Grayson instantly asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

He follows my line of sight and nods knowingly. “Don’t worry about them; they’re harmless.”

“Hey, Grayson, who’s the hottie?” the first guy asks.

Grayson turns to me. “Paris, meet Jake, Trent, and Daniel.”

“Hi,” I say, not sounding very friendly at all. I don’t meant to be rude, but I don’t want people to know me here. I want to be anonymous. It’s safer for me that way, and it sure as hell is safer for my reputation. I don’t want people talking about me. Sure, I’m strong enough to handle it if it happens, but that doesn’t mean I want it to happen. That’s why I left Melbourne, for a fresh start. It seems that hanging around Grayson isn’t helping me achieve my goal of being invisible.

“She’s taken,” Grayson adds, not looking at me.

“I’ll bet,” the one named Trent replies. He narrows his eyes on me slightly, watching me as he continues. “You going to come hang with us?” he asks Grayson.

“I’ll see you later. Paris and I need to talk about something,” he answers. They each give Grayson a handshake and then leave, one giving me a curious look.

“What do we have to talk about?” I ask curiously.

Grayson leans back against the tree and closes his eyes. “You don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to.”

“So you’re happy to sit here in silence?” I ask.

“Sure, comfortable silence sounds good to me,” he replies, pulling out his iPod and offering me one of the earphones. I smile and accept it from his hand. When I put it in my ear, I nod my head in approval when I hear the voice of Ed Sheeran.

Grayson turns to me, his face so close we’re almost touching. “I’ll make you a deal,” he says softly.

“A deal?” I ask, staring into his eyes.

“You tell me your favourite song. If it’s on here,” he says pointing to his iPod, “you have to go on a date with me.”

I smirk, because there is no way in hell my favourite song is on there. “And if I win?”

“Then I won’t ask you out again,” he says, and my face drops slightly. He’s giving up on me already? I mentally curse myself, because this would be the best option.

“I’ll wait until you tell me you want to go out with me,” he adds, nibbling on his bottom lip.

“Okay, you’re on.”

“You can’t make up a random song, you have to promise that it’s your actual all-time favourite song,” he says, his dark eyes sparkling with humour.

“You want to pinky promise?” I joke, holding out my pinky.

He tilts his head and looks like he’s thinking it over. “Yes. I think we should. I know you don’t want this date,” he says, looking amused.

I roll my eyes and hold out my little finger, the nail covered in purple polish. He links his pinky with mine, and we shake on it.

“Okay, hit me with it,” he says, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

I smirk and tell him. “Jesse by Joshua Kadison.”

He pauses, and then bursts out laughing. “That is not your favourite song.”

I gasp. “Yes it is! It’s a classic.”

He smiles now, a confident smug smile. “Looks like we’re going on that date.”

What? No way in hell he listens to that. He scrolls down on his iPod and plays the song. Well, shit.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night,” he says, and I visibly cringe.

“I have to work tomorrow night. How about the night after?” I ask, wringing my hands.

“Sounds good to me,” he says. “So where do you work?” he asks after a few moments of silence. Why did I mention work? Sometimes, I talk without thinking.

“Oh, just a bar,” I say, flicking my hand out. Like it’s no big deal.

“What bar? I like bars,” he says, as he slowly draws my hand into his.

“Why, are you going to stalk me?” I tease, trying to divert the question. I stare down at our entwined hands and wonder how the hell this happened. I am trying to appear standoffish, bitchy even, but Grayson still seems eager to get to know me. Why? It makes me slightly suspicious, because I can’t understand why he’s so interested in me. There are so many beautiful girls around, and I know it wouldn’t be hard for him to get their attention.

“No,” he says, “I think I do enough of that at uni.”

“True,” I reply, teasing.

He holds his hand to his heart dramatically. “Are you saying you don’t enjoy my company?”

“You’re okay,” I say, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly. Grayson flashes me a crooked smile and releases his hand from mine. I feel a pang of disappointment, until he reaches up and takes a long lock of my hair, pulling gently.

“You have the most beautiful hair,” he mumbles. “It’s so blond; it’s almost white.”

“Th- thank you,” I stutter. He smiles, and we continue to listen to music in silence, our bodies grazing. I feel so aware of my arm touching his, of every slight movement. I close my eyes, feeling more relaxed than I have in a long time.

“Don’t fall asleep. We have to get back,” he says, gently pulling out the earphone.

I open my eyes and sit up straight. “I could have slept nicely.”

“Me too,” he adds. We stare at each other for a few intense seconds, before he stands up and holds his hand out to help me up. I offer my hand, and he pulls me up until I’m standing. “Let me walk you to your next class?”

“Okay,” I say.

“And Paris?”

“Yes?” I ask quietly.

“Can I have your phone number?” he asks, dimples popping.

“Ummm, okay.”

His grin bursts forth, and I like it.

Too much.

Why can’t I control myself around him?

* * *

The following night, I head into work. Growing up, never in my wildest dreams did I think I would end up stripping for a living, but here I am. My parents died in a car crash when I was thirteen. My mother’s younger sister, Veronica, took me, my sister, and my brother in, and I hated living under her roof. She never liked us, and at the time, I had no idea why she wanted us living with her. I thought that she must have felt obligated, because it was either we go live with her or be put in foster care. I realised soon it was because of the money my parents left us. As our guardian, Veronica was in charge of our money. I haven’t seen a cent of it. When my brother Brody turned eighteen, he took my sister London and me and moved us in with him. Veronica didn’t want to let us go, but somehow, Brody worked out a deal with her. I’m pretty sure it involved paying her a lump sum of money each month.

Brody never spoke about it with me. We moved back into our family home, which had been rented out all that time. Brody paid for all the bills, until London and I were old enough to work part-time jobs to help out. Everything was going okay until Brody met Elizabeth. They were married within six months, and London and I both left the month after that. Elizabeth made it clear we weren’t welcome. I’m not sure if Brody knew the extent of her bitchiness. How someone as kind as my brother could end up with a witch like her, I will never know. London and I never really got on, even as kids, and without Brody there to hold us together, we went our separate ways.

I had moved into a tiny one-bedroom apartment, started uni, and worked at a supermarket to make ends meet. Money was really tight, and I was struggling. I met a guy at uni, and we started to date. Everything was going fine, until it wasn’t. Mark turned out to be a total douchebag. I wanted to finish my degree so I could get a good job, and I needed extra money desperately. Toxic is a well-known strip club, with several different locations. Toxic girls are known to be beautiful, stacked, and talented. They don’t accept just anyone to work at the clubs, and that’s just me stating facts, not being egotistical. With my long white blond hair, big blue eyes and double d’s, let’s just say they welcomed me with open arms. When Brody found out where I worked, he cut me out. He said he never wanted to see me again. I’m sure Elizabeth put him up to it, but either way, I gave him what he wished for.

I haven’t spoken to him since. It hurt then and it still hurts now, but life goes on.

After six months of working, studying, and saving, I left Melbourne and moved to Perth. My manager at Toxic made sure I already had a job when I arrived. Different state, same shitty occupation. I transferred universities, found an apartment, and here I am. I may be a stripper for now, but I know I’m going places. I’m going to get my degree, work my ass off, and be proud that I achieved something all on my own. I’m going to be a history teacher. Someone with a respectable job, doing something that she loves. I want to be that person so badly it almost hurts. I will be that person.

I stare at my reflection, and puff out a sigh. My long hair is teased, like a puffy white cloud, my blue eyes rimmed in black kohl. Red lipstick, the colour of blood, paints my lips. My dress is tacky, black lace and tightly fitted, over a red bra and thong. It’s pretty much lingerie. Heels so high they should be illegal cover my feet, making my legs look like they go for miles. I look nothing like I do during the day. This costume is a mask. A slutty mask. I clear my mind, knowing there is no point dwelling or playing around with ‘what ifs’. I’m here because this is where the decisions in my life have led me, and although I might not be exactly proud of what I do, it’s a means to an end.

And I won’t be here forever.

“Snow, you’re on,” Temptress, another dancer, calls out to me.

“Okay, thanks,” I reply, my voice dead even to my own ears. I stand up, forgetting myself as I become Snow. I block out everything and concentrate on one thing; getting through the performance. I take in a few deep breaths, and then down the tequila shot sitting on the dressing table. I wince as the liquid slides down my throat, but I need the liquid courage. I fix up my lipstick, and then walk out onto the stage.

Chapter Four

Snoop’s “I Wanna Fuck You” starts to play. I keep my back against the pole, facing away from the audience. I concentrate on the feeling of the cold metal against my skin. The lights turn on; they are dim but enough that I can be easily seen. A few men whistle, and then start to yell out as I swivel my hips, slowly lowering myself down the pole. When I’m crouching low, I sit forward onto my knees, and then spin so I’m facing everyone. The cheers get louder, and I try to tune them out as I raise my hands and hold onto the pole, opening my thighs as wide as they can reach. Then, in one sharp move, I pull myself up and spread my legs out, so I’m doing a split. Lowering myself to the ground, I sit there for a few seconds, before I lift myself up until I’m standing. I walk around the pole, so the men have an unobstructed view of my ass. I lift the lace dress off me and throw it on the floor. More catcalling. I bend over and hold onto the pole, sticking my ass out, wearing nothing but my thong and bra. I start shaking my ass, like you see on music videos. The men seem to love it by the looks on their faces when I turn back around.

Classy bastards.

I stand up straight and step closer to the pole, pulling myself up and wrapping my legs around. When I’m steady, I lean backwards so I’m hanging upside down. Yes—I’ve picked up a few tricks along the way. My huge boobs push up into my face, almost suffocating me. The men call out lines I’m sure they would never say to any other woman, or at least I hope not. I pull myself upright and swirl around the pole, then slide down and do a little shimmying. I undo the back of my bra and let it drop. This is the part I hate the most, the part where I have to go into that place in my head to perform. The red lace lands on the floor, and the whistles and catcalls get louder than ever. I avert my gaze and gyrate my hips sensually, and then turn back to work the pole some more.

I just hope the night passes quickly.

* * *

I let the water drip down my face, scrubbing off all traces of makeup. I wash my face three times, making sure it all comes off, not wanting any more curious questions from Grayson.

Grayson.

It would be a lie to say I’m not excited for our date. Okay, I have butterflies just at the thought of our date. I turn the shower off and wrap my white fluffy towel around me. I double-check my face in the mirror, grabbing a wipe to remove the remaining black smudges under my eyes. Then I dry my body and hair and put on my pyjamas. Sliding under my sheets, I sigh in contentment. My feet ache from wearing those ridiculously high heels, and it’s not long before I fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up with a smile, which quickly turns into a scowl. There is no point in getting attached to Grayson. The minute he finds out what I do, he’s not going to want anything to do with me. After a shower, I throw on a pair of worn jeans, a black singlet top, and my black ankle boots. I brush out my hair and tie it up in a ponytail. I go makeup free as usual, wearing only a tinted moisturizer. Walking out of my room and into the kitchen, I see Anaya has stayed over at her boyfriend’s place again. I make some toast and Vegemite, eating one piece in the kitchen, and taking the other with me as I walk out the front door. My phone vibrates with a message as I’m almost to the library. I pull it out of my bra where I had slid it in for safekeeping and check the message.

See you tonight/  Pls msg me your address so I can come and pick you up.

P.S. Wear something casual.

Grayson. I smile, and finish my toast, before I reply with my address.

So, I guess I’m really doing this. There’s nothing to say I can’t have a casual relationship with someone, right? Grayson doesn’t have to know that I work the pole two to three nights a week. I hate the thought of being dishonest, but there’s no way around it. No way in hell am I telling him that I’m a stripper. That I take my clothes off and give lap dances for money to pay my debt and bills. The minute he finds out, he will lose all respect for me and look and treat me differently. Just like my brother. The thought puts me in a dejected mood, and I walk into the library feeling like shit.

Chapter Five

Worrying my bottom lip, I stare at my outfit in the mirror. Grayson said casual, so I opted for skinny jeans and a baby blue chiffon top. I hear a knock at the door, so I quickly smooth down my hair once more before I walk out of my room. Anaya beats me to the door, and I can hear her say something and then laugh. She and Grayson walk in seconds later.

“Hey,” he says, smiling with his eyes. He gives me a once-over, his dimples popping out as he grins his approval. “Beautiful.”

Anaya looks at me. “You didn’t tell me you were going on a date with Grayson,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at me. She looks at Grayson. “You better be good to her.”

“How do you even know him,” I ask her.

She grins. “Everyone knows Grayson Mills.”

Grayson ignores her and walks toward me, pulling me into his side. “Of course I’ll be good to her. You ready to go?” he asks. I nod and say bye to Anaya. We walk outside to where his car is parked.

“No motorcycle today?” I ask, checking out his black car.

He unlocks the car doors with a click of a button and then opens the passenger side door for me. “I didn’t think that was first date material.”

I laugh. “That makes no sense at all.”

He walks around and slides into the driver’s seat. “When we’re on the bike, I can’t talk to you.”

“True, but in the car you don’t have me wrapped around you, my boobs pressed against your back,” I blurt out.

Grayson looks at me for a second, before laughing. “I’m suddenly seeing the error of my ways.”

“As long as you realise,” I add dryly, looking ahead as he pulls out and drives onto the main road. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, playing with the hem of my top.

“Not yet, but you look perfect. Beautiful as always,” he says, flashing me a grin before looking back to the road.

“Thanks,” I mutter, blushing slightly.

“How was your day?” he asks me.

“It was okay. Just had one class. Then I did some studying at home,” I reply. “How about you?”

“I worked all day. Couldn’t wait for tonight,” he says, glancing over to see my reaction.

“Where do you work?” I ask.

He pauses for a second. “At a hotel.”

Vague. But I don’t push. Because if I do, then he can too. “Do you like it?”

He nods once. “It’s all right. When did you move here from Melbourne?”

“A week before uni started.” I snap my head to him. “How did you know I used to live in Melbourne?”

“You mentioned it,” he says.

“I did?” I don’t remember telling him.

“Yes, Paris,” he says gently, “you did.”

“Right, okay. Just before uni started,” I say.

“Do you like it here?”

I shrug. “It’s nice. Quiet. I don’t really know anyone, so I just keep to myself.”

“You know me and Anaya,” he says. “I’m sure you could make friends if you wanted to.”

If I wanted to, but I don’t. “Sure,” I reply, shrugging once more. Grayson pulls into the driveway of a huge single-storey house. When he parks the car, I open my mouth, lifting my finger in the air.

“Before you say anything, this is my house. I thought I could cook dinner for you,” he says, getting out of the car before I can reply. He opens the door for me, watching me as I hesitate. “We can go somewhere else if you like,” he says when I don’t move.

I glance at the house, a house I’d probably have to strip for the rest of my life to afford, and get out of the car. “You live here alone?” I ask him, eyeing the house once more.

“I do. My sister comes and stays usually on the weekends, but that’s about it,” he says, closing the car door and taking my hand in his. I stare down at our hands, wondering when this all happened. He squeezes my hand gently, and I lift my head to look at his face.

“What are you cooking?” I ask curiously. He chuckles and leans down to kiss me on the forehead. I instantly still as his lips touch my skin, at the casualness of his action. He notices and moves away, clearing his throat.

“More grilling than cooking,” he says, his dark eyes not leaving me.

“Steak?” I ask, perking up.

“Steak, salad, and potatoes.”

“Sounds good,” I say, and his shoulders instantly relax. I smile at him, finding it endearing that he’s trying to impress me. He unlocks the front door and opens it for me to enter. I step inside and wait in darkness, until he turns the lights on and steers me into the kitchen.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, taking in the modern marble countertop and white cupboards.

He glances around as if only just noticing. “Yeah, I guess. Here have a seat,” he says, gesturing me to the table. He opens the fridge and starts pulling out ingredients, clumsily knocking over the salt. I purse my lips, trying not to laugh.

“Why don’t I sort out the salad, and you handle the steaks?” I offer. Grayson gives me a sheepish smile and nods, looking grateful.

“You have cooked before, right?” I ask, unable to contain the suspicion in my tone.

Grayson blushes; he actually blushes. “Actually, this is my first time,” he admits, cringing. I want to laugh so hard right now, but I don’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. He looks up at me, taking in my expression. His lip twitches. “Finding this funny, are you?”

I let my laughter escape. “Oh, come on, it’s pretty funny.”

“For you maybe,” he grumbles.

I laugh into my hand. “All right,” I say, standing up and walking to the fridge. “I’ll handle the sides, you handle the meat.”

He smiles at my choice of words and shakes his head at me, his dark brown hair flopping around his face, and his dark eyes dancing with amusement. He steps closer to me, and a gasp leaves my mouth as he grips me by the hips. “Is this okay?” he asks softly. Is it okay? I shouldn’t be here, yet I want to be, more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.

“Yes,” I reply, nodding as I say it.

“Good, I’m glad you came,” he says softly.

So am I. I am really freaking happy I came tonight. I’m about to tell him so when he puts his index finger against my lips. He stares into my eyes, dark connecting with light, and leans forward slowly. Moving his finger away, he replaces it with his soft, full lips. My eyes flutter shut. The kiss is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. His lips move against mine, demanding yet gentle. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer to him. My own fingers find his muscled back, digging slightly. When he pulls back, I’m left feeling flustered. Off balance. I swallow hard and clear my throat. I can still taste him on my lips, leaving me wanting more. Grayson tilts his head, silently studying me. His eyes are warm, and I think I see a flash of puzzlement in them, masked almost instantly. He kisses me once more, this time on my forehead. “I promised you dinner.”

“You did,” I reply breathlessly.

He smiles, dimples out in full effect. “We better get to it then.”

I nod, feeling bereft when he moves away. “Okay.”

The steaks ended up a little burnt. Okay, maybe a lot burnt.

It was the best meal I’d ever had.

Chapter Six

Justin adjusts himself once more, clearly enjoying the show. I hate doing the private lap dances. Hate them. I’d rather be on stage. A private lap dance feels much more personal, and unlike when I’m on stage, I can see the person’s eyes on me.

Justin is a regular here; he comes in at least once a week. He pays me for a lap dance each time. I turn my back to him, an excuse not to look at him, and seductively swing my hips. I lift my hair off my neck, and then pull the string of my barely there halter top. I reach behind my back to pull off the last string holding my top on my body. It falls to the floor, my nipples peaking due to the cool air. I inwardly wince and turn to face Justin. He licks his lips, his gaze stuck on my breasts. You’d think he’s never seen a pair of them before. I continue to dance, moving to the beat of the music. It’s almost mechanical, each move done so many times before, I don’t even have to think about it. The song finishes, and my time in my private booth is over.

“Come home with me?” Justin asks, not for the first time. I shake my head, giving him a teasing smile to soften the blow of rejection. I walk out and nod to the bouncer, letting him know all is well.

“Hey, Snow,” Diamond says, smiling up at me as I walk into the change rooms. Diamond always has a smile on her face. She’s the opposite of me. She’s not embarrassed about what she does, and she has fun doing it. I envy her sometimes.

“Hey, how are you?” I ask her, sitting down next to her. I look in the mirror and gently remove my false lashes.

“I’m good baby girl, good tips tonight,” she says, smiling widely and pulling notes out of her top. ”You want to go out? Enjoy a night on the town?” she asks, raising a finely arched brow.

I shake my head. “Sorry, Diamond, how about I take a raincheck? I have class tomorrow morning,” I tell her honestly.

She pauses. “You’re a good girl, Paris,” she says, using my real name for the first time. She flashes me one more smile before walking out of the change room.

I change and catch a taxi home.

* * *

I open my apartment door, surprised when I come face to face with Grayson. “Hey,” I mutter, wondering what he’s doing here. Dropping by unexpectedly could become a problem, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see him. Over the last few weeks, we’ve gotten to know each other. No matter how much I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, in the end I fell for his charm and easy demeanour. He really is a great guy. I learnt that quickly. Perfect guy, not so perfect timing.

“Hey, mind if I come in?” he says. I realise I’ve been standing there with my arms crossed, staring at him, lost in my thoughts.

“Sorry, of course,” I say, my face hot as I open the door. “Where did you go dressed like that?” I ask, taking in his black pants and white shirt. He looks professional and extremely sexy.

“Came here from work,” he says, smiling at me. “We had a meeting.” Right, the hotel job. He takes my hand and pulls me into his arms. “I missed you today.”

“Missed you too,” I say into his chest.

“How was work last night?” he asks, rubbing his hands down my back.

I stiffen a little at his mention of my work. “It was fine. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks,” he says, yawning. “Just wanted to drop in and see you.”

“You look tired,” I say, seeing the weary look in his eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Come on then,” I say.

His brows furrow, so I take him by the hand and pull him into my bedroom and close the door. He makes himself at home, like he’s been in my room a million times. He takes off his shoes and climbs into my bed, lifting the purple leopard print sheets over him. He looks good in my bed. Too good.

“You going to join me?” he asks, his eyes closed.

I walk over to the other side of the bed and slide in next to him. As soon as my head hits the pillow, he reaches over and cradles me in his arms. “I could get used to this,” he mumbles sleepily. So could I. I’m a little uncomfortable at first, lying like this with him, but soon I hear his breathing even out, and know he is fast asleep. Why did he come here? I have to wonder. He was obviously tired after work. Wouldn’t he want to go straight home?

An hour later, Grayson is still fast asleep. I’ve been working on an assignment in that time and am almost finished when I hear Anaya call out my name. A second later, she bursts into my room. Seeing Grayson, she stills. “Sorry,” she mutters, not looking sorry one bit.

“What’s up?” I ask quietly, not wanting to wake Grayson up. I save the file, close my laptop, and put it on the side table.

“We got invited to a party this weekend,” she says, grinning ear to ear.

“A party?” I repeat, my voice showing my lack of enthusiasm.

“The party,” she corrects. She looks at Grayson. “You two official then.”

I point to the door, my eyes wide. I do not want Grayson to be present for that conversation. Anaya giggles and walks out, closing the door behind her. That girl is always in a good mood.

“So, are we?” comes an amused sleepy voice. Well, shit.

“Hey,” I say.

“Your bed is comfy,” he says, sitting up and looking at me. His shirt is wrinkled, his hair dishevelled, but he still looks sexy as always. He leans closer and pushes a lock of hair behind my ear.

“I’m going to kiss you, Paris,” he says, dark eyes never leaving mine. I nod, unable to say anything. My eyes are already on his lips, anticipating what’s to come. He takes his time, giving me a slow spreading smile before tentatively touching his lips to mine. He draws back a little, studying me before he kisses me again, deeper this time. He gently holds the back of my head, pulling me closer into him. Pushing me back into the mattress, our mouths still connected, he lies on top of me. He moans as he pulls away, placing a sweet kiss on my forehead.

“You taste so good,” he says, his eyes smiling down at me.

“Good” I say, dazed and breathless.

“So are we?”

“Are we what?” I ask.

“Official,” he says, lip twitching in amusement.

Official? Shit. If I’m in a relationship, I will need to either tell him the truth or stop stripping. I need the money, so the latter isn’t really an option right now. I need to tell him no. I’m sorry but I can’t. Now’s not a good time. Instead I pull his mouth back to mine.

Distraction is key.

Chapter Seven

“How did you talk me into going to this party?” I ask Anaya for the third time.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t be a party pooper. You need to get out. You can’t spend all your time with just Grayson.”

I wince, knowing that it’s true—I have spent all my spare time alone with Grayson over the last few days. But Anaya spends all her time with Paul too, so, pot meet kettle.

“Is Paul coming?” I ask, smoothing my dress.

“Yeah, he will be here with his mates,” she replies. The taxi stops, we pay and get out, walking toward the house.

“Whose house is this?” I ask, staring up at the mansion. Without bothering to knock, Anaya opens the door. We follow the sound of the music, passing a few people on the way. Everyone seems to be outside, where there is a pool and a DJ. Anaya drags me to dance for a few songs, before she sees Paul, standing around with a few of his friends. She runs into his arms, while I trail slowly behind her. Paul lifts his chin in greeting when he sees me, and I smile back at him. I’ve met him twice so far, and he seems really nice. He introduces me to his friends, and I smile and say hello politely. My phone vibrates, so I pull it out of my bra to check it.

Your boyfriend might get jealous seeing you talking to all those guys.

Grayson. He’s here? I look around the backyard, until I see him standing with his sister and another girl. One I haven’t seen before.

“Who’s that?” I ask Anaya. She follows my line of sight.

“That’s Dylan, this is her house,” she says. Dylan. The name sounds familiar. Grayson says something to his sister, and then starts to approach me. He’s wearing jeans, a black shirt, and a dimpled smile. He told me he would meet me here after work, so I thought he would have been a little later.

“You’re here,” I say stupidly, smiling up at him. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me into him, his lips briefly touching mine. The gesture is possessive, causing me to roll my eyes, but secretly I’m thrilled.

“I left work early,” he says. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his narrow hips. Grayson says hello to Anaya, Paul, and his friends. “How do you know so many people?” I ask him.

“Some of them went to high school with me, some I just met at uni, or around at parties,” he says, kissing my forehead. I’m not really used to public displays of affection, but with him, I couldn’t care less who was looking.

“Mr Social,” I utter under my breath.

Grayson chuckles. “One of us needs to be. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m fine, but thanks.”

“How about you, Anaya?” he asks, earning a scowl from Paul, who is yet to offer her one.

My roommate sighs dramatically. “No, but thank you for asking, Grayson.” She scowls at Paul, who in return shoots Grayson a look that clearly says ‘thanks for making me look bad’. Grayson, looking amused, ignores Paul and looks down at me.

“Dance with me?” he asks.

“I’d love to,” I reply. He reaches his hand out, and when I take it, our fingers intertwine. We walk near the DJ stand, where others are dancing. A Jason Derulo song plays as we start to move to the music. I grind on him a little, seeing the lust in his eyes, but then tone it down. If only he knew the moves I could do, the many ways I’m capable of seductively moving my body.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he whispers into my ear, pushing my hair back and to the side. I’m glad he thinks so. The song ends, and it’s then that I notice Dylan standing there, arms crossed, her eyes on me. And she doesn’t look happy. Instantly suspicious, I remind myself to ask Grayson what the deal is with her. We spend the rest of the night enjoying each other’s company. When I get home, I realise something. I need to tell Grayson the truth. If someone else tells him, I could lose him forever. I’d hate to lose the way he looks at me. The way his eyes go soft and gentle, as if I’m something precious to him. Something to be protected, nurtured.

I hope he never stops looking at me like that.

* * *

I’m reading a history textbook, when suddenly it’s gently pulled out of my hands. I look up into Grayson’s unreadable face. “What’s wrong?” I ask. He slept over last night after the party. He went home in the morning, and then returned in the evening to have dinner with me.

He bites his lip, studying me. His dark eyes are hooded, and I instantly feel a tug in my lower belly. I absently run my finger along my collarbone, tilting my head as I stare up at him. I know what he wants. Grayson and I haven’t done anything more than kiss. He’s on the edge, but I know that if I tell him I’m not ready, he won’t push me. Here he is, standing in front of me, waiting for me to make the first move. Waiting for my permission, for me to let him know that I want this as much as he does. And boy do I. Truth be told, I’ve been keeping my distance from him because of my secret. Because of what I haven’t told him about me. I can’t deny myself any longer though. I stand up and close the space between us, placing both of my palms on his warm chest.

“Are you sure?” he rasps, licking his lips.

I lift up his t-shirt, feeling his taut abdomen with my fingers. “I’m sure.”

“Thank fuck,” he growls, leaning down and kissing me deeply. I moan into his mouth as he tastes my tongue, and kisses me in a way that has me so turned on, I want more. I need more. I’m panting when he pulls away to remove his t-shirt, throwing it to the ground. His body is perfectly muscled. Smooth, tanned skin covers an impressive chest and sculptured abs. I didn’t think a body like this existed in real life.

“Why wear a shirt at all?” I ask breathlessly. I’m going to lick every inch of that body tonight, that’s for damn sure.

Grayson’s lips twitch, his eyes still trained on me. He toes off his shoes, and then undoes the button on his jeans. I hold my breath as he pulls them down, and he’s left standing before me in all his naked glory. He was going commando.

“Breathe, Paris,” he says softly, and I instantly suck in a breath of air. His eyes roam to my breasts, which are straining against my white cotton singlet. I pull it off, my shorts following, leaving me in just a black bra and matching panties. He steps to me, kissing me on the lips and then on the spot where my shoulder meets my neck.

“You’re amazing,” he says into my ear, making me gasp as he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him, my breasts in his face as he leans me back onto the bed. Pulling down the cups of my bra, he takes my nipple into his mouth, drawing it in and sucking gently. My head throws back onto the pillow, my fingers pulling gently on the ends of his hair, wanting more, wanting everything he can give. He kisses down my stomach, and then pulls down my panties as he nibbles on my hipbone. Without warning, his mouth is on me, licking, tasting. My thighs soon tremble, on the verge of release. When he sucks on my clit, my back arches as intense pleasure takes over.

“Fuck,” I curse, panting. I put my wrist over my eyes, catching my breath. I feel weak and blissful at the same time. I sit up and look at Grayson, who is kneeling on the bed, watching me. A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes me in, his eyes full of satisfaction. “Someone looks smug,” I say, grinning.

“Someone isn’t done with you… yet,” he says, crawling up over me. “Not even close.”

I smile. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

He grins at me wolfishly.

“Condom?” I ask.

His eyes widen, and he nods, leaning down to pull one out of his wallet. Looks like someone was hopeful.

“I’d almost forgotten,” he says. “I’ve never been with anyone without a condom before.”

“Okay,” I mumble, swallowing nervously.

He opens the packet and slides the condom on his length, and then touches me intimately with his finger. I’m dripping wet.

“Hmmmm,” he groans, leaning over me and sliding into me, kissing my lips at the same time. I wince at the pain as he enters me, not as bad as I had expected but still enough to hurt.

He suddenly stills. “You’re a virgin?” he whispers, looking confused. His voice sounds like he’s in physical pain, and his eyes widen as he pulls back, looking down on me with an expression I can only explain as shock. He moves away from me.

I swallow, reaching for the covers to hide my body. “Is that a problem?” I ask in a small voice. He runs his hand through his hair, grabs his clothes, and gets dressed in silence.

And then he walks out without looking back.

Chapter Eight

I don’t sit in my usual lunch spot under the tree. I skip my next class and go home for lunch instead. Grayson has been calling and texting me nonstop since the ‘incident’, as I like to call it, but I don’t want to talk to him. It’s been two days. I have no idea why he acted like that, walking out without a word. I guess I didn’t really know him at all. I avoided his pleading gaze in class today, and even when he sat next to me, I ignored his presence as best as I could. I was the first person out of that class, walking as fast as my legs could take me. And this is why you don’t start something with someone you have to see all the time. It’s awkward, and frankly it hurts to look at him.

I’m unlocking my door when I hear him.

“Paris...” he says, sounding unsure and a little hesitant.

I don’t turn around. “What?”

“Can we talk?” he asks. “Please?”

“What could we possibly have to talk about? Your apparent disgust for virgins?” I say dryly. I put my key back in my purse and open the front door. I close it behind me, not feeling guilty in the least, but he puts his foot inside before the door can close. I sigh, and finally turn around to face him. He looks tired; his hair is messy as though he’s been running his fingers through it over and over again.

“I’m sorry about what happened the other night,” he says, puffing out a breath. “It’s just that…” He stops, and I raise my eyebrow, waiting. I’m actually interested in what he has to say, in whatever reasoning he’s come up with. I want to know what’s going on in that head of his. He looks like he’s going to say something, but then he shakes his head, as if to clear it. “I had no idea you were a virgin.”

“So you decided to ditch me and run?”

“I didn’t run,” he says, looking down at the floor.

I scoff. “There was a Grayson sized hole in the wall.”

“Paris,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a non-issue anyway,” I say flippantly, looking down at my nails.

“What do you mean?” he asks, brows furrowing.

“We are done,” I say, shrugging.

He opens his mouth, and then snaps it shut. A muscle ticks in his jaw. “I’m sorry, Paris.”

“So am I,” I instantly reply. I watch him flinch at my words but get no satisfaction from it. I want to turn and hide from him, so embarrassed with what occurred between us.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, walking over to me. I stiffen as he leans down to kiss me on the forehead. My eyes shut as his lips touch my skin. “I fucked up. I was surprised, that’s all. I wish you would have told me.”

“I wanted you to be my first, and then you…” I stop, unable to continue. What I wanted to say was, you ruined it. Giving him my virginity wasn’t a huge deal for me. I was more than ready to have sex with someone. But what happened that night—I didn’t expect it to go like that. I never thought I’d regret choosing Grayson to share that with.

“Forgive me,” he says, taking my chin in his fingers and pushing it up so I have to look him in the eyes. He looks sincere and regretful. I still don’t get why he did it. I know he’s hiding something. But I’m hiding something too, so who am I to judge? He hurt me. That doesn’t mean I don’t want him anymore though. It would be so much easier if I didn’t.

“Let me make it up to you, please,” he says, his eyes pleading. “You don’t understand.”

I puff out a breath, the scene of that night replaying in my head.

“Hey,” he says, cradling my face in his palms. “It will be amazing between us.”

“You sound pretty confident,” I reply, trying to stay emotionless.

He sighs. “Babe, when it comes to you, I’m anything but confident. You make me crazy.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual,” I mutter, letting him know with my tone that it’s not a good thing.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his eyes showing his regret is genuine.

“I’ll see you in class,” I reply, my shoulders relaxing. He gently moves his hand to my nape, squeezing gently.

“I’ll see you then,” he says. One more kiss, this time on my lips, and then he’s gone.

What the hell am I doing?

* * *

When someone sits next to me, I turn with a smile on my face. When I see it’s not Grayson, that smile falls.

“Umm, that seat is taken,” I say, shifting on my seat.

The guy looks around and grins. “I don’t see anyone’s name on it.”

I stare at him and recognise him as one of Grayson’s friends. I search my mind for his name, but come up empty.

“Jake,” he says, fighting a smile. “Wow, if that isn’t a blow to my ego…”

“I’m horrible at remembering names,” I say, shrugging sheepishly. “Besides I’ve met a few of Grayson’s friends, it’s kind of hard to keep up.”

“I’ll bet,” he says, sounding amused. Jake is handsome in a preppy way. Not really my type but I can still appreciate his blue eyes and charming smile. “Gray’s not coming in today,” he adds.

I try to mask my disappointment. “Okay,” I say, having no idea what to reply.

“He had to go to Melbourne on a business trip with his dad,” Jake adds. I wonder why Grayson didn’t tell me that himself. It was only yesterday that he came over to apologise, but I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

Some apology.

“So why are you sitting here again?” I ask, not sure what his game is.

Jake chuckles at me. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

I lift my shoulder in a shrug but don’t say anything.

“I thought since Grayson wasn’t here, I’d keep you company,” he says, flicking his pen between his fingers. I force a smile and then concentrate on the book in front of me.

“Not very chatty, are you?” he asks when the lecturer finishes talking. “Most girls would be talking my ear off by now.”

I roll my eyes. “I have nothing to say.” To him anyway.

He chuckles. “What are you doing after class?”

“Going home,” I reply, putting my books into a neat pile on my table.

“Want to get something to eat?” he asks.

“No thanks.”

He winces. “Cut down.”

I sigh, feeling a little guilty. “I’m sorry; I really have to go home and study. But thanks for the invitation.”

He nods, looking amused. “That was a polite rejection.” Does the man ever stop? I don’t stick around to find out.

Walking home, my mind roams to Grayson. After apologising, he just leaves? I pull out my phone and check to see if there are any missed calls or texts from him.

Nothing.

I thought Grayson was perfect. At least, perfect for me, but I guess I was wrong.

Chapter Nine

Grayson sits down next to me in class, and I can feel his eyes on me. It’s been five days since I’ve seen him, since we’d had any contact.

“Hey, Paris,” he says quietly, his tone careful. I glance up. He looks gorgeous as ever, his dark hair slightly damp, dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans.

“Hello,” I reply, mustering a small smile. I look back down at my notebook.

“Listen, I need to—” Grayson starts but is cut off when the lecturer stalks talking. Glad for the small reprieve, I try to ignore Grayson as much as I can, and concentrate on the man talking at the front of the room. I can see him glancing over at me out the corner of my eye though, and I know there’s something he wants to say. I’m really not feeling the hot and cold act, and I’m wondering if I should just cut my losses and not talk to him anymore at all. The idea hurts, which means it’s probably the right action for me. It saves me having to quit Toxic, which I was considering—for him. But now… Hell, it’s probably better this way.

Grayson clears his throat. “Can we talk?” he says in a soft tone.

I don’t look up. “What about?”

“You know what about, Paris,” he says. I look over to see his hands clenched on the table, his eyes on me. I see a flash of worry in them, before he manages to contain it. What could he possibly be worried about? He’s the one who made a conscious decision to put space between us, to go away without so much as a word. He was sending me a message, and boy, I got it loud and clear.

“Where did you go?” I reluctantly ask. I know what Jake told me, but I want to hear it from him.

He runs his hands through his hair, mussing it. “Went with my dad on a business trip.”

I want to say, ‘and what, they don’t have phones where you are?’ but I don’t. The rest of the class passes in tense silence. Grayson follows behind me as I exit the class, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling me to a stop when we hit the car park.

“Come to my house so we can talk?” His voice is almost pleading.

I pull my arm out of his hold and turn to face him. “Look Grayson, I think we should just be friends.”

He winces, and makes a sound in his throat. “I want to be more than your friend, Paris. I want us to start over—more than anything in the world.”

He has a great way of showing it, doesn’t he? “Yeah, it’s not really working for me,” I say, wringing my hands. He’s taken my heart and stomped on it. I didn’t deserve that. I know I deserve better. I can’t look at his handsome face without feeling hurt.

“It was working until…” he trails off, probably thinking about that night. Yeah, I really don’t want to bring that night up either, but something has to be said.

“It was and now it isn’t. Do you know you just leaving like that was even worse than what happened that night,” I say. He pales, running a hand down his face.

“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking,” he says. “I know I’ve messed this up but—”

I cut him off. “I don’t know what you were thinking either. But if you wanted to hurt me so badly that I stop caring, I’d say you’ve succeeded,” I lie. “I’ll see you around,” I say, trying to pass off a grimace for a smile. Grayson takes a step forward, but I shake my head. I do this embarrassing wave with my hand, and then turn around and head in the direction of my apartment. I have to work tonight, so I want to relax for a little before I have to go in. When I get out of the car park, and onto the walking path along the main road, I look back. Grayson is still standing where I left him, looking down. His posture screams defeat. I sigh, and turn back around, clutching my palm to my chest.

Maybe Grayson Mills wasn’t meant for me after all.

* * *

I grab my bag, filled with my makeup and shoes, and head toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Anaya asks, popping a grape into her mouth. Most nights, she’s at Paul’s, but on the occasions she’s home, she thinks I work at a bar. I get dressed at the club, so I’m just wearing jeans and a black top.

“Work. I have to go or I’ll be late,” I say. I usually catch a cab, but today Diamond said she will come and get me.

“Want me to give you a lift? I haven’t even seen this place you work at,” she says casually, staring at the TV screen.

I cringe. Yeah, that won’t be happening. Ever. “No thanks, a co-worker is giving me a ride,” I tell her.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yup, bye,” I say, walking out the door. Diamond is waiting in her fancy black car, music pumping. I open the passenger door and slide in. She turns the volume down a little.

“Ready for work, Snow?” she says, smiling wide.

Her smile is infectious. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

We pull up to Toxic and walk in through the back door. “How long have you been a Toxic Girl, Diamond?” I ask her as we walk into the change rooms.

She tilts her head, thinking. “A few years now. About three and a half.”

“How long are you going to do it?” I ask, pulling my jeans and top off, standing there in my bra and underwear. I’m no longer modest with my body, at least when I come here anyway.

“As long as I still have the looks for it,” she says, giggling. “The money is good, and to be honest, I like the attention.”

I wish I felt the same way. I dress in all white tonight, a sheer white baby doll dress, thong, thigh high stockings and garters. They like it when I play on the ‘snow’ theme, and with my red lipstick, I look like an ice princess.

“Shit, I gotta borrow those shoes,” Diamond says, eyeing my white stilettos with envy.

I laugh. “My feet are two sizes smaller than yours.”

She rolls her eyes. “I can make them fit, don’t you worry. I can Cinderella that shit.”

“Cinderella or her evil step-sisters?” I joke, earning me a playful swat on my ass. Diamond gets on stage, and I take a few moments to mentally prepare myself for the night.

You won’t be doing this forever.

Pay your bills. Pay your debt. Then it will be all over and done with.

Chapter Ten

I sigh dramatically when I see a missed call from my sister, London. I have no idea what she could possibly be calling about, so I put off returning her call. I love my sister, but I don’t necessarily like her. Truth be told, she’s the reason I have this huge debt. It’s her debt. She borrowed the money from an ex-boyfriend of hers and when my sister left, refusing to pay him back, he threatened to hurt her. He came over to our house looking for her, and I was with her. It wasn’t pretty. He trashed the house and verbally abused the shit out of her. She tried to hit him in return, and he slapped her across the face. He was lifting his fist to punch her when I jumped on him and screamed that I would get him the money.

Luckily, he said he liked me enough to allow me to pay him back in instalments. Apparently, it pays to be nice to one of your sister’s many men. The debt started out at twenty thousand dollars, and is now down to ten. Half to go. I should feel proud of myself, but I don’t. I just feel tired, and I want everything over and done with.

I strut toward the private dance booth, hating this part of the night. It sucks that it’s also the part where I make the most money. “Hypnotize” by Gemini plays as I dance for a gentleman dressed in a suit. He probably came here straight after work. I step closer to him, pulling down the straps of my baby doll dress. He pulls me closer, trying to get me to straddle him. “No touching,” I tell him, my tone sharp.

“Oh, come on, I’ll make it worth your while,” he slurs, his eyes staring at my breasts greedily.

It doesn’t matter how much he offers me, I won’t be crossing this line. I shake my head. “No touching,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow.

He lifts his hands in the air in mock surrender, and then tells me to turn around and continue dancing. I do as I’m told, hating every second of it. Finally, the song ends, and I exhale in relief. However, as he stands up he pushes me up against the wall, his hardness rubbing against my ass. “That’s it,” he croons. I elbow him in the stomach, and then stick my head out of the door, signalling the bouncer on duty. He quickly comes in, and I tell him what happened. He grabs the man and escorts him out. I lean back against the wall, breathing heavily, my pulse racing.

Yeah, I can’t wait until I can turn my back on Snow forever.

* * *

“How long are you going to ignore me?” Grayson asks from next to me, sounding exasperated. I’m sitting at my lunch spot. It’s been a week since we last spoke properly, and not from his lack of trying. He sent me three bouquets of flowers, stopped by my house with food, and walked me home after classes. I haven’t said more than a few lines to him in all that time, mainly ‘no thanks’ and ‘why are you still here?’ He’s really making this hard. I’ve wanted to forgive him on many occasions, but for some reason I’m not willing to let him in. It’s easier in the long run if we end this—whatever it is we had. I shrug at his question and stare straight ahead. “How long do you expect me to chase after you, Paris?”

I bite my bottom lip. “I don’t expect you to do anything.”

“So you don’t care if I go out with another woman?” he asks, his voice a little strained. The thought physically hurts, but I don’t show him any weakness. If he wants to do that then go ahead. That means he wasn’t meant for me anyway.

“You can do what you want, Grayson,” I say without emotion.

He curses. “All this because I went away for a few days without telling you? Do I have to report to you or something?” he snaps.

Wow. Taken aback, I turn to look at him. “That’s not it, and you know it,” I grit, my jaw clenched. “But if you’re going to be an asshole, then please just leave.”

“Well, you won’t let me talk to you about it, so I can’t even explain,” he says, looking frustrated. I don’t know why, but I can’t help but feel like he has a guilty air about him. Am I going crazy? I don’t want to turn into one of those women who questions everything their man does because deep down they know that they can’t trust him. Yeah—that’s never going to be me.

“Paris, I’m sorry,” he says, his dark brown eyes pleading. My gaze lowers to his mouth. I haven’t seen his dimples since the night we almost made love. I miss them—like fucking crazy.

“Okay, I’m listening,” I say, looking directly at him.

His shoulders drop as he sighs. “After what happened with us… Look, I want you. More than anything. There’s something about you, we just… fit. I had to go away last minute with my dad on business, and I thought I’d take that time to gather my thoughts. I know I should have told you, but I was confused and...” he trails off, searching for words. “Will you give me another chance?”

After a few tense moments of silence, I speak. “You were confused? What about exactly?” I ask. If he thinks he’s going to get away with some evasive half-assed apology, he has another thing coming.

His eyes dart away, and his hand runs over his head. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone before,” he says after a few tense moments. “I’m at a loss, Paris. I don’t want to make a mess of things, but that’s all I seem to be able to do.”

I exhale deeply, watching him as he keeps his head down.

“I’m not perfect,” he says.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect,” I mutter. And I don’t. I’d appreciate some honesty though. I cringe at the thought. How hypocritical of me. What the hell am I doing here? This whole thing is one huge clusterfuck. I stand up and clear my throat so he looks at me.

“I have to go,” I say. I hate seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, his head going down again. I sigh, but force my feet to move. I need to get away from him, because now he’s not the only one who’s confused.

* * *

Anaya greets me at the door as I return from work that night. “Hey, what are you doing awake?” I ask her as I close the door behind me.

“It’s late,” she says, her eyes filled with worry. I slide my phone out of my bra and look at the time. Three in the morning. I had to stay back a little later tonight, because the club was packed.

“Yeah, we had a busy night so I had to stay back late,” I tell her. I walk into my room, and she follows me, trailing behind.

“What’s the name of the bar you work at again?” she asks. I still, then turn to look at her.

“Why?” I ask her.

“I’m curious,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. Fuck, I don’t want to lie to her. She’s pretty much my only friend in this town. I sit down on my bed and pat the space next to me. She sits down, and I cringe as I realise I’m going to tell her the truth.

“I know you haven’t been telling me the truth, Paris,” she starts.

“I work at Toxic,” I tell her. “It’s in the city on William Street.”

She plays with the ends of her red hair, thinking. Then she freezes and lifts her wide eyes to me. “Toxic? As in…”

I nod, swallowing hard. Unable to hold eye contact with her, I glance around my room, looking for a distraction.

“Wow,” she says. She clears her throat after a few seconds of silence, and then turns to look at me. “You’re a stripper?”

I grit my teeth, hide my shame, and nod once.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” she mutters under her breath. I can’t help it; choked laughter escapes at her comment. She shakes her head at me and gives me a lopsided smile. “Maybe you could teach me some dance moves sometime?” she asks quietly, nudging me gently with her shoulder.

“Maybe,” I reply. She grins.

We spend the rest of the night talking about it.

It’s then I know that everything between us is going to be all right.

Chapter Eleven

After telling Anaya the truth, I’m feeling lighter than ever. It’s been a few days since we had our deep and meaningful conversation. We also spoke about Grayson. The man himself walks into class just as I’m thinking about him. He looks at where I’m sitting straight away and walks in my direction. Sitting down in his usual seat, he gives me a small smile.

“Hey,” he says. “Did you finish the assignment?”

I raise an eyebrow. I’ve seen him twice since our last conversation, and each time our short words have been stilted and apologetic. Not to mention awkward.

“Of course I did,” I reply, appreciating the generic question.

He chuckles. “I bet you will ace it too.”

“Did you finish it?” I ask.

“Kind of,” he says, shrugging sheepishly.

I gape. “What do you mean kind of? This makes up for ten percent of our grade!”

He cringes, and then picks up his pen and flicks it between his fingers. “I know. I’ve been a little… distracted,” he says, not looking at me. He looks down and his dark hair falls on his face, covering his eyes from my sight.

“Haven’t we all,” I say under my breath. The lecturer starts talking, interrupting our conversation. I sigh, throwing one last look at Grayson before staring straight ahead.

Grayson trails behind me when class is over. When we walk out to the car park, he reaches out and gently takes my wrist. “I miss you,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my pulse.

“I miss you too,” I admit quietly. I unconsciously step closer, inhaling his scent. He always smells so damn good.

“Have you ever done something you wish you could take back, more than anything, but you can’t? So all you can do is feel sorry for yourself knowing that you, yourself, are the cause of your own misery?”

I take a sharp breath at his words. I nod at him, our eyes connected.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, when I remain silent. Can I? Can I really judge him when I’ve been hiding something too? If I choose to give this another chance, I need to tell him. Come clean. Hopefully, he will still want me, and we can start over. A clean slate.

“Why did you leave without telling me? Be honest,” I say.

He swallows audibly. “I fucked everything up between us. I thought maybe it would be best if we both moved on from each other. While I was away from you though, I just missed you. You. Your laugh, your smile, your smell. Everything about you, Paris. And I realised something; there is no escaping what’s between us. There is only fixing, because I refuse to let you go.”

“I still don’t understand, Grayson.”

“I’m never going to forgive myself for ruining your first time, but I promise you, I will make it up to you,” he says.

“I suppose I did miss your cooking.” So much for me not giving in. I know I shouldn’t, but I want to. I want him. I guess I’m just a sucker for punishment.

I’m gifted with a slow spreading smile. “I’ll be happy to cook for you tonight, and maybe we could talk.”

“Maybe,” I say softly, feeling lighter.

I get on the back of Grayson’s bike, and we go to his house. Wrapping my arms around him the entire time, feeling the ridges of his abs and my front pressed tight to his back, I don’t for one second regret my decision. It feels so good to have my arms around him again. We walk into his house, and he pulls out a chair for me to sit down on.

Grayson searches the fridge for something to make. “How about toasted sandwiches?” he asks as he scans the lack of groceries.

I hide my grin. “Sounds good to me.”

“I could order something,” he says, glancing over at me.

“Sandwiches are fine,” I tell him, watching as he pulls out the cheese and ham. He makes them quickly and brings them to the table with some orange juice.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he says, his eyes dancing. “I’m turning into a master chef, aren’t I?”

I take a bite. “I don’t know. I don’t think you should quit your day job just yet.”

He smiles, dimples and all. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After we finish eating, we sit together in the lounge room. A movie plays on the TV, but I’m not paying it any attention. My eyes are solely on Grayson, and his are on me. I swallow hard at the intensity of his gaze, and when he licks his top lip, I can’t help the noise that comes out of my throat.

“You feel it too …” he says so softly, running his hands up and down my thigh. I feel it? I sure feel something right now.

“Grayson--”

“I messed up, but now you’re going to forgive me. We’re too good together for the alternative,” he says, and I gape at his commanding tone. Who does he think he is?

My eyes narrow. “I will forgive you, if and when I decide to.”

He chuckles, actually chuckles. “You’re so beautiful when you’re angry.”

I’m glad he feels that way, because by the looks of things, I’m going to be pissed off a lot when I’m around him. I open my mouth to tell him exactly that when he leans forward and kisses me. He’s playing dirty. There is no way I can resist him, not when he’s right; there is something here between us. Something that draws us to each other. Something worth the gamble.

He pulls back from the kiss, leaving me wanting more. “Let me do it right this time, please.”

My dazed mind takes a few seconds to realise what he said, and by then he’s standing by the couch and picking me up into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on as he carries me into his room, dipping me onto the bed and returning his lips to mine.

Where they belong.

“I missed you,” he says as he pulls back a little, his breath warm and sweet.

“Yeah, well, don’t fuck up again then,” I reply, pulling his face down and kissing him, cutting off his choked laughter at my comment. I slam my head back into the pillow, arching my neck as he trails wet kisses down my throat.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at me. “You sure you want to do this? I can wait—as long as you need.”

“I’m sure,” I reply, sitting up and pulling my top and bra off. I almost laugh at the look on his face. His heavy lidded eyes are the definition of bedroom eyes, dark, deep and sensual.

“So, so beautiful,” he murmurs, and I squirm a little as he licks his top lip, bringing his hands to my breasts, taking their heavy weight. His thumb swipes over one of my nipples, sending a shot of pleasure through me. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into me. He pulls back a little to take off his t-shirt, his muscles rippling with the motion.

So. Fucking. Hot.

His chuckle brings my gaze upwards to his mouth. He tilts his head and gives me a smile. Apparently, I said that out loud.

I all but attack him.

I sit up and capture his lips with mine, my tongue tasting his. His hands wander down my back to my ass, which he squeezes and slaps playfully. “No rush, Paris, we have all night,” he whispers into my ear, sending chills up my spine. He slowly unbuttons my jeans and pulls down the zipper. I lift my hips up and wiggle as he removes them, leaving me in nothing but my black panties. I wish I could say they were lace, instead of plain cotton, but the look in his eyes gives me the confidence I need. Taking his hand, I boldly slide it inside my panties.

“Fuck,” he curses, and I smile in victory as he slides his finger through my wetness, making me gasp in pleasure. Kissing me passionately while his finger works magic, he sucks on my bottom lip, nipping at it before he moves his mouth lower, paying attention to my breasts with his tongue and mouth. I start to pant as he moves even lower, licking down my stomach, past my belly button. I like where this is heading. As he pulls off my panties and his mouth finds my centre, I can feel myself on the edge. I can tell it’s going to be explosive. I curse as the first wave of pleasure hits me, slamming my head back into the pillow and calling out Grayson’s name. He pins down my hips, holding me in place and prolonging my release. When I relax into the mattress, and my thighs stop shaking, he releases me and sits up. He kisses my knee gently and rubs my thigh comfortingly. I sigh when I look up and see the expression on his face.

He looks a whole lot turned on and maybe even a little bit smug. But more than anything, his expression lets me know that there is no place he’d rather be right now.

“I’m going to want to do that, a lot,” he announces, running one hand through his hair.

My lip twitches. “I’m not going to argue with that.”

He grins. “Good.”

I grab the belt of his jeans and pull him so he’s lying on top of me. I can feel the hardness of his arousal through his jeans, causing me to make a humming noise in the back of my throat.

“Take it off,” I command softly. He pulls back and does as I say. As he stands before me naked, I can’t do anything but gape. He is built perfectly, from his toned chest and rippling abs to his narrowed hips and strong thighs.

“How are you real?” I ask, as I sit up on my knees for a closer inspection. Choked laughter is all I get in response. I lick my lips. “Tell me what you like,” I say, lifting my gaze to his. I’m a little nervous, but more than anything—I’m excited. I see his throat work as he swallows. I scoot closer to him. He’s standing at the edge of the bed, so I move off the bed, kneeling on the floor before him.

“Fuck,” he says as he takes in my new position. I can tell he likes it—a hell of a lot. “Babe, are you sure—” he starts, but I cut him off by taking his hardness in my hand and stroking. Then, I lick the head, and suck on it a little, before sliding the length into my mouth.

“Paris… fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as his hands gently tangle in my hair. “Just like that,” he encourages as I hollow my cheeks and take as much of him in my mouth as I can. I’m enjoying myself when he gently pulls me away, lifts me up, and carries me onto the bed. Now for the finale. Grayson starts chuckling again. I really need to stop voicing my thoughts during sex.

“That turned you on,” he rasps into my ear. He makes an approving sound mixed with a groan.

“What?” I ask breathlessly as he starts to play with my clit.

“You’re dripping wet,” he explains, “all from going down on me. That’s so fucking hot, Paris.” He pulls away from me to grab a condom and slides it on. Then he’s back on me, gently sliding inside me.

“You okay?” he asks in a low husky voice. I can tell he’s holding back, wanting to go gentle and slow.

“Yes I’m fine, just fuck me already,” I say. He stills for a second, letting me adjust to his size before he pulls out and slides back in.

“Not fucking, Paris—never with you,” he says before he kisses me. He pulls back for a moment and our eyes connect. His are full of wonder and lust. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the most precious thing in the world. I hope the look in my eyes lets him know that he’s everything to me, too. I lift my hips up and follow his rhythm as best as I can. Soon I can feel another orgasm cresting, and I dig my nails into his back as I climax. Grayson follows me soon after, his body jerking as he finishes. I stare at his face the whole time, watching the pleasure in his expression. I think I could get addicted to this moment.

“I’m fine, Grayson. Better than fine,” I say quietly, before he can ask me.

“Good. That was amazing, Paris,” he says, gently pushing away the hair on my slightly damp forehead. “The best.”

“I have a great teacher,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. He rolls his eyes at me, kissing me twice before heading to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back with a wet cloth to clean me, I’m surprised by the sweet gesture.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he says, as I squirm a little while he’s wiping me. I put a pillow over my face, earning me a chuckle. He leaves again, sliding in beside me when he returns seconds later. Pulling me into his arms, I put my head on his chest and my leg on his thigh.

“Guess what,” he says after a few moments.

“What?”

“You just became mine.”

I smile into his chest.

Chapter Twelve

I roll my eyes when T- Pain’s “I’m In Love With A Stripper” plays next. The crowd still goes wild over this song. I swirl around on the pole, spreading my legs wide, before stopping to seductively remove my top. I’m wearing a pink leather top that zips up at the front, so it’s easy to remove. I’m all about convenience. When I woke up this morning, I made a decision. I’m quitting Toxic. There is no way I can be a Toxic Girl and have Grayson, so something has to give. I’ll have to think of something else to pay off the debt. I’m wondering how much people are paying for organs on the black market these days when the song changes to “Drunk In Love” by Beyoncé; I slow down my moves, grinding on the pole in time with the music.

By the time my shift is over, I’m exhausted. I get changed, scrub my makeup off, grab my bag, and call a cab. One of the bouncers waits outside with me, making sure I get in safely.

“Thanks,” I call out to him before I close the door. It takes me fifteen minutes to get home. Anaya is at her boyfriend’s, so the house is empty. I take a long bath, relaxing my body, and then I get into my pyjamas. Around three am, I finally fall asleep.

* * *

“How many more hours are you going to spend here?” Grayson whispers to me, taking the empty seat next to me. I shiver a little as his warm breath blows on my ear.

“Just another hour or so,” I say, closing the textbook I was reading and moving on to the next one. He looks around the library, taking in its near vacant state.

“Does anyone even come here anymore?” he asks dryly, looking vaguely amused with his brows raised.

“Yes,” I say. “They do. Me for example.”

“Yeah but… you’re weird,” he says, leaning over and kissing me chastely on the lips.

I close the book. “I’m not going to get any work done with you here, am I?” I ask, fighting a smile.

He grins wolfishly. “I have a surprise for you. I’m a little impatient.”

I instantly perk up. “A surprise?”

“Yes, a surprise.”

I grab my books and stand up. “What are we waiting for then?”

He chuckles and takes my books from me, carrying them in one hand and taking my hand in the other. We exit the library and get into his car, and then drive straight to his house.

“Exactly what kind of surprise is this?” I ask as we walk to his front door, suspicion lacing my tone.

He looks at my face and starts laughing. “What’s going through your head right now?”

I look down at his crotch area and wiggle my eyebrows. He laughs even harder. I roll my eyes and pry the keys out of his fingers, unlocking his front door and walking in. I can still hear him laughing at the front door. Idiot. I walk into the dining room, and my breath hitches. He’s put candles, fancy plates, glasses, and cutlery out. A huge bouquet of red roses stands in the centre, with a card addressed to me. I smell the roses before opening the card. It only has two words written on there, in his messy, scribbled handwriting.

Just because.

“Just because what?” I ask aloud, playing with a rose bud.

“Just because I wanted to show you how much you mean to me,” he says from behind me. I turn to face him. “I don’t need a special occasion to show you that.”

I smile. “I love the roses, thank you.”

He returns my smile, walking toward me and pulling out a chair. “Sit, please,” he says. I do as I’m told, sitting down while he lights the candles. He goes into the kitchen, returning with two plates filled with food, and places them in the centre. He returns to the kitchen and comes back in with another two bowls.

“Feeding an army?” I ask playfully, peering into the dishes.

He grins down at me. “Just wanted to make sure there were things you like.”

“Did you cook this?” I ask, my mouth watering at the roast chicken.

“Maybe,” he replies, kissing me on top of my head. He brings out a bottle of wine and pours me a glass. Red—my favourite.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replies, sitting down next to me.

“I feel really fancy right now,” I say, earning me another amused look. I wink at him and watch as he serves my plate first, asking me what I want, before serving his. The meal is delicious. Afterwards, I help him clean up, ignoring his protests, and we sit on the couch and share some cookies and cream ice cream, eating straight out of the tub with two spoons.

Best date I’ve ever had.

* * *

“What time do you finish work tomorrow night?” Grayson asks me the next week, lifting me onto his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Why?” I ask.

“I thought I’d come and pick you up. You can stay the night at my house,” he says as he nuzzles my neck. Pick me up? Yeah, I don’t think that will go down well.

“I’ll come to yours after if you like,” I say. He studies me, his eyes narrowing. He knows something isn’t right. I know that he knows something isn’t right. I’ve decided to work for one more week before I tell the boss I’m quitting. I really need the money right now, and I’m trying to save every cent. It also gives time for my boss to find a new girl to take my place.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks. His tone is light, but his eyes say otherwise.

“Nothing is going on,” I say quickly. Maybe even a little too quickly.

He sighs. “Why won’t you let me in?”

“I’ve let you in,” I scoff.

His lips tighten in displeasure. “You’re still keeping things from me.”

“Can we just enjoy the evening, please?” I ask, looking around the bar we’re at. The place is packed, and at some fancy hotel. Apparently, Grayson comes here all the time, because he keeps stopping to say hello to people.

“Fine, but this conversation isn’t over,” he says, kissing me on the nose.

“I couldn’t be that lucky,” I mutter back. He cradles my face and kisses me, a kiss much too hot for public. “Gray,” I pant.

His eyes warm. “I like you calling me that.”

“Good,” I reply, staring at his lips.

“Do you want another drink?” he asks.

I look down at my now empty vodka orange and nod. “Yes, please,” I tell him. As he orders me another drink, I see someone walking up to us.

“Grayson,” she says, batting her lashes. I recognise her as Dylan—the girl whose house the party was at. I don’t miss the way that Grayson stiffens a little at her presence.

“Dylan,” he says, nodding his head at her. “Have you met Paris?”

“No, I haven’t,” she says, smirking. What the hell is her problem? Grayson puts his arm around me and squeezes gently.

“Paris, this is Dylan,” he says, handing me my drink.

“Hi,” I say, bringing the glass to my lips.

She raises a finely arched brow. “So you’re the one hogging all of Grayson’s time.”

“Dylan,” Grayson snaps, the warning in his tone unmistakable. My eyes dart between the two of them.

“So how do the two of you know each other?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even.

“Family friend,” Grayson replies at the same time Dylan says, “We used to date.”

Silence.

“Well, isn’t that… awkward,” I add when no one says anything. I down my drink in two gulps and place the empty glass down on the table. Grabbing my clutch off the table, I stand up, getting off Grayson’s lap. He follows suit, standing and leading me out to his car, leaving Dylan standing there alone.

“She’s your ex? I knew you weren’t a saint before you met me, but why lie about it?” I ask as soon as we get into the car.

“I didn’t want you to get upset,” he says, starting the engine.

“Lying upsets me!” I snap, looking out the window.

He sighs. “Our dads work together. I’ve known her for years. She’s really good friends with my sister.”

“Did you sleep with her?” I ask, already knowing the answer. No woman gets that look of possession in her eyes without having a taste. I look over at him to see a tick in his jaw and know that’s my answer.

“Yes,” he replies reluctantly, “but it never meant anything.”

“And now?”

“And now we’re just friends. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Paris,” he says, looking over at me.

“Sorry you didn’t tell me or sorry you got caught lying?” I ask, my voice breaking.

“Fuck,” Grayson says, pulling over onto the side of the road. He turns to face me, his eyes full of worry and panic. “She doesn’t mean anything to me. You do. You mean everything. You can’t hold my past against me, Paris.”

“You’re right, I can’t. But I expect you to be honest with me,” I tell him. I’ve been honest with him about everything… except that one thing. I push that thought out of my mind. I’ll have to deal with that later. And face the consequences too. Fuck, I’m the biggest hypocrite.

“Look, I slept with a fair few girls before we started dating. I’m not exactly proud, but I’m not sorry either, because it was before you. I am sorry I didn’t tell you, and you had to find out like that. And that is me being honest.”

“Okay,” I say, flicking the polish off my nails. What the hell else can I say? I’m not being honest with him either. This relationship is doomed for failure once the truth comes out.

“Hey,” he says gently, reaching out and taking my hand into his. “Are we okay?”

I look down at our threaded hands. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

But I don’t know if that is the truth.

Chapter Thirteen

I stare at my reflection, wondering for the third time if what I’m wearing is okay.

“You look amazing,” Grayson says, staring at me with heat in his eyes. I smooth down my black dress, hoping that he’s right.

“I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents before,” I say, puffing out a breath. I pat my lips together, staring at the pink lipstick I chose today.

“They will love you,” he says, putting his big hands on my shoulders. “Leah can’t make it though, so it will just be my mum, dad, and the two of us.”

“Where are we meeting them again?” I ask as I walk into my bedroom, sitting down on my bed.

“The hotel where I work,” he says. He’s taken me there before, Windmills, it’s called.

“Why would we be meeting them there?” I ask, frowning. His dark eyes sparkle, and his dimples make an appearance.

“Because my dad owns the hotel.”

I gape. “You never told me that.” Wait, his father owns the whole hotel chain? Great, I’m on my way to meet his millionaire parents. Me. A stripper. Wonderful, just fucking wonderful. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. I knew he was well off. I mean he does have his own house and a nice car and motorcycle. But I didn’t think he was that rich, or at least that his family was.

“I thought you knew,” he pauses. “Everyone knows.”

“Not me apparently,” I mutter. Not like I talk to many people. Just Grayson and Anaya. And some of the girls at Toxic.

“At least I know you’re not with me for my money,” he jokes. I stand up and swat him on the shoulder.

“Not funny, Gray,” I tell him. “No wonder you knew everyone when we went to the hotel bar. And to think I just thought you were popular.”

He smirks at me. “Nope, not popular. Just the boss’s son.”

“Ha, I doubt that,” I say, putting both my hands on his chest. He encases me in his arms, and I breathe in his delicious scent. Maybe we could stay here in bed instead?

“It will be fine. It’s just dinner,” he says, rubbing his warm hands down my back.

“Is this going to be one of those dinners where there are four different forks, and I’m not going to know which one to use?” I ask grumpily. I feel his body shake with silent laughter. Glad I can be so amusing.

“I’ll let you know which fork to use,” he says, moving back and staring at me with dancing eyes.

I pout. “Fine.”

He smiles wide, holding my chin and lifting my face up. “When we get home, I’ll show you just how much I love that dress on you.”

My heart races. Let’s get this dinner over with.

* * *

Do you know what’s awkward? Answering question after question, and each answer you give turning out to be more horrifying than the last.

What do your parents do? Not much because they are dead.

Do you have any other family? Yes.

Do you talk to them? No, not really.

And so the night went on. It turned out there were multiple forks, and Grayson started laughing when I gave him a look that said ‘I told you so’. Grayson’s mother, Laura, is the epitome of sophistication. She has dark hair, cut in a severe bob, light brown eyes, and a soft voice. His father, Derek, looks like an older version of Grayson with dark hair and eyes, and a set of dimples. The only difference being his eyes aren’t playful or amused like Grayson’s usually are; instead, they seem shrewd and slightly calculating.

“Would you like dessert, dear?” Laura asks me.

“No, thank you,” I say with a polite smile. Grayson glances at me and frowns. He knows I love dessert, and I’m not usually one to turn it down. However, I’d rather this dinner end as soon as possible. They have been nothing but kind to me, but with the questioning and looks in their eyes, I can tell they would rather their son be with someone else. I don’t know if it’s for the fact I obviously don’t have any money or what, but I don’t think I’ll be bonding with them any time soon. Grayson sits next to me, his arm rested casually on the back of my chair. He’s been sweet and attentive all night, even telling his parents to stop with the questions. I appreciated that—a lot.

“Do you want to go, babe?” Grayson asks, softly so only I can hear.

“Do you?” I ask, not wanting to be rude and leave if he wanted to stay. He kisses me and then stands up.

“We have to go. We have classes in the morning. But thanks for dinner,” he says casually, putting out his hand to me. I take it and stand up, thanking both his parents and telling them it was nice to meet them.

“Are you okay?” he asks me as he opens the car’s passenger side door.

“Fine. Why?” I ask.

He leans on the car door, watching me silently. “You were perfect,” is all he says. He closes the door and walks over to the driver’s side. Perfect? I felt awkward as hell.

“Are you staying at mine tonight?” he asks as we pull onto the main road.

“No, can you take me home?” I ask.

“Why?” he asks, his lips turning into a frown.

“I have work tonight,” I tell him. I start in two hours. It’s my second to last shift, and then I’m free. No longer a Toxic Girl. No longer Snow. Just plain old Paris. And I couldn’t be more thrilled.

Grayson sighs. “I hate you working late. I can just imagine all the men hitting on you.”

He has no idea. “This is my second to last shift, remember,” I tell him.

“Good. You know I can help you if you need…”

“Grayson,” I snap, not wanting to hear his offer. He’s mentioned it once before, and there is no way in hell I will become a kept woman.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles, sulking.

“I thought you wanted to show me how much you loved this dress?” I ask in a sultry, suggestive voice.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, glancing at me before tightening his fists on the steering wheel.

The car goes a little faster.

Chapter Fourteen

The next day, I stare at the missed calls on my phone, wondering why my sister and brother are both calling me. I send London a quick text message, asking her if everything is okay, and then head to class. It’s not unheard of for London to call me, usually when she needs something, but my brother? He never contacts me. I put my sunglasses on, and walk quickly to campus, not wanting to be late for my class. As I walk toward the building Leah, Grayson’s sister, stops me.

“Hi, Paris,” she says as she walks toward me. We haven’t really spoken before, apart from a few hellos and smiles. As petty as it may seem, Leah is Dylan’s friend, so I didn’t really see her becoming my best friend any time soon. Having said that, she seems to be a nice girl, always smiling, and I know she loves her brother a lot by the stories Grayson has told me.

“Hey, Leah, how are you?” I ask her, offering her a small smile.

She pushes her hair behind her ear. “I’m good. Just thought maybe we could hang out some time? My brother is crazy about you, and I don’t know you at all.”

She wants to hang out?

“Umm, sure,” I say, not sounding convincing even to my own ears.

She gives me a knowing look. “I’ll get your number off Grayson and send you a text.”

“Leah!” someone calls out. We both look in that direction. When I see Dylan walking over, I stifle a groan. Not someone I want to see right now… or ever.

“Hey, Dylan,” Leah says, giving me an apologetic look.

“Hey. I didn’t know you two were friends,” Dylan says, shooting a sneer in my direction.

Leah shrugs and says, “She’s dating my brother. I’d like to get to know her.”

Dylan’s face drops at that reminder. “Everyone dates your brother. You going to make friends with the whole school?”

Leah scowls. “Paris is different. He’s crazy about her.”

Dylan makes a scoffing noise. Bitch.

“Anyway, Paris, we’ll catch up soon, yeah?” Leah says, pulling the strap of her bag.

“Umm, okay,” I say, blinking slowly. “See ya.” I walk off, ignoring Dylan’s dirty looks.

Maybe Leah and I could be friends? I shake my head and head to class.

Priorities.

* * *

Grayson releases a guttural moan as he finishes. Panting, I slide off him and lie down next to him, smiling as I catch my breath. This is the first time we made love without a condom, because I’m now on the pill, and it was incredible.

“I’m getting kind of good at that,” I boast.

Grayson grunts. “More than good. You’re amazing, babe.”

I smile wider into the dim light, and then move into the crook of his arm. He turns to face me, moonlight on his face, our eyes connected. “Want to go again?” I ask into the silence.

He chuckles. “I’m going to need a minute.”

“A minute? You old man,” I joke. I squeal as he rolls on top of me, pushing me into the mattress. I love the feel of his weight on top of me.

“Old? I’ll show you old,” he says, tickling me until I scream. He rolls me so I’m lying completely on top of him.

“Is it always like this?” I ask, lifting myself up so I can see his face.

He tenderly touches my cheek with his fingers. “It’s never been like this.”

“I thought so,” I choke out. I kiss him, threading my fingers through his hair and pulling gently. I feel him grow hard again and smile into his mouth.

“You asked for it,” he growls, flipping me over and slowly sliding into me. He lifts my arms above my head and pins them down. “I think I love you, Paris O’Sullivan,” he says.

I think I love him too.

* * *

I wake up in Grayson’s arms. Wriggling, I disentangle myself and sit up, taking in the view. He’s sleeping on his side, facing me, completely nude. I’m one lucky girl; that’s for damn sure. Last night, he told me he loved me. At least he said he thought he did. Is that the same thing? Or does that mean he’s falling in love with me? I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, but I couldn’t. Until I’m free of Toxic, it wouldn’t be right for me to tell him that. When I do tell him I love him, I want it to be with no secrets between us. I devour the sight of him, unconsciously reaching out and running my fingers down his rippled abs.

“Mornin’,” he says, making me jump. I look up at his face to see his eyes wide open and on me.

“Morning,” I reply, licking my bottom lip. I look down, a little embarrassed and turned on at being caught ogling him while he slept.

“You look a little flushed,” he points out. My eyes rise to his. I roll them. His lip twitches, as he obviously takes pleasure in watching me squirm.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks, rolling onto his back and crossing his arms behind his head. “Do you?” he prompts.

“Fishing for compliments?” I ask, sitting up on my knees. My fingers caress his chest, before slowly moving down further. I trace his abs with my index finger, causing him to tense.

He sighs, closing his eyes. “That feels good.”

“I was thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” I say in a soft voice.

His eyes open. “Babe, you have no idea. Trust me when I say that I’m the lucky one.” He pulls me down next to him, and kisses my forehead, my cheeks, and lastly my lips. “I meant what I said last night.”

I open my mouth to talk but he puts his finger to my lips. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“You don’t even know everything about me,” I manage to say, my brows furrowing.

“I know that, and I’m enjoying getting to know you slowly, bit by bit,” he says, lowering the silk strap of my pyjama top.

I push my strap back up, narrowing my eyes. “Yeah, you know me like that don’t you?”

His body shakes as he chuckles. “I know you. Not fully yet, but enough. I know that for some reason you hate the colour white, even though your hair is almost that colour and is fucking beautiful. Your favourite colour is blue. Like your eyes, which are also mesmerizing and fucking beautiful. You don’t like to talk about yourself. Learning things about you is like pulling teeth, but you have a good heart. You’re kind, smart, and witty. And the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

He’s right. I hate white, because that’s what they usually make me wear as Snow.

“I know you make this little mewling moaning sound when you’re about to come,” he says, running his hand over my chest. “Want me to prove it?” he asks.

I cradle his cheek with my hand, his tanned skin against my pale. He is all dark, whereas I’m all light. The contrast is beautiful.

“How about I show you how much I know about you?” I purr, undressing and throwing my clothes onto the floor.

“I think I’d like that,” he says, his eyes on my body.

“Okay. After you make me breakfast,” I say, grinning and walking out of the room.

He chases after me into the kitchen, makes love to me on the floor, and then makes me breakfast.

Priorities.

Chapter Fifteen

When I’m walking to class the next day, I can tell something isn’t right. I run and see a crowd forming in a circle. Pushing through the bouts of people, some of them yelling some of them cheering, I see what the fuss is all over. In the centre of the circle stands Grayson, who is beating the shit out of some guy.

“Grayson!” I yell, stepping into the circle, only to be pulled back by Daniel, one of Grayson’s friends.

“Don’t get in the middle,” Daniel says, gripping me by the waist. I struggle but his hold doesn’t yield, so I turn back to face Grayson. His clenched fist hits the guy in the nose, and I hear a horrible crunching noise. On closer inspection, the person Grayson is fighting is Jake, his friend. What the fuck is going on here?

“Why are they fighting?” I ask Daniel, grimacing as Jake gets in one punch to Grayson’s stomach. Grayson’s next punch sends Jake to the floor. “Why are you not stopping this?” I growl, pushing at him with my hands, trying to get away. Daniel sighs, then bends down and lifts me up in the air, his shoulder to my stomach.

“Put me down, you asshole!” I yell, pounding on his back with my fists. All of a sudden, the crowd goes silent.

“Put her down!” Grayson growls from behind me. Daniel instantly slides me down, and I can feel heat at my back. Hands wrap around my waist, pulling me into his body.

Daniel puts his hands up. “She was trying to get in the middle of the fight.”

“Thanks, bro,” Grayson says to Daniel, stepping to the side and taking me by the hand. We walk quickly to his car. He opens the door for me, still a gentleman even when angry.

“What happened, Gray?” I ask, staring down at his bruised, swollen knuckles. He makes a sound deep in his throat, almost a growl, as if remembering what got him so angry in the first place.

“Gray,” I snap when he doesn’t say anything, but just drives off. He doesn’t reply. When we’re halfway to his house, I can tell that he’s going faster than the speed limit. “Slow down,” I say in a calm voice. He listens to me, and slows down, going the limit. When he pulls up to his house, he slams his fists on the steering wheel, making me jump in my seat.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. He takes in a deep breath, as if to calm himself. He turns off the engine and slams the door shut, and walks off. Just leaving me there in the car. I get out and follow him in the house. He’s standing in the lounge room, waiting for me.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Are you a stripper?” he asks without flinching. I freeze. I knew I should have told him myself. I’m so stupid. I only have one shift left before I’m done, and I thought I could get away with it. Fucking stupid. He takes my silence as a yes, because he starts smashing shit around the room.

“Grayson,” I choke out, lifting my hand but then retracting it.

“Jake’s dad is a regular at Toxic,” he says, not looking at me. “He took a picture of you on his phone. Jake saw it.”

What the fuck? No one is allowed to take pictures in the club; he must have done it on the sly.

I swallow audibly, my vision blurring. “I’m sorry,” I say, a tear dropping down my cheek. And I am. So damn sorry, because I know this isn’t something that someone can just forgive. I don’t expect him to forgive me. I fucked up. I wasn’t honest, and now I have to face the consequences.

“All this time,” he growls, dropping onto the couch like he has no energy left. I’ve drained it all. Me and my issues.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

“Don’t be sorry. Tell me why,” he says, his gaze connecting with mine. His eyes are cold. Hard. Hurt.

“I was already working there when I met you…”

“Not that. Tell me why you weren’t honest with me,” he says, his tone flat.

“I didn’t want you to look at me how you’re looking at me right now,” I tell him honestly.

He scoffs, and looks away. “I just beat the shit out of my best friend for disrespecting you, when he was right all along.”

It hurts. It burns. I want to tell him I love him, so fucking much, but I’m not that selfish. I stand, my hands shaking, cast him one last longing look, and then I walk out the door. I can hear things breaking as I stand out front, wondering how the hell I’m going to get home. I start to walk. It’s not that far, maybe a forty-five minute walk. I could call Anaya to come and get me, but I figure a walk would do me good. It gives me time to be alone, to deal with the consequences of my actions and feel sorry for myself.

Just like I deserve.

* * *

I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. When I hear a banging at the door, I get up to go answer it. Looking through the peephole, I see Grayson’s angry face. What the hell? I unlock the door and open it, watching as he gives me a once over, as if checking if I’m okay.

“What the fuck, Paris?” he growls, walking into the house. I close and lock the door, and then follow him into the living area.

“What?” I ask, my voice weak. I just want to go to bed.

“I rang you a million times! How did you get home? I was worried,” he says, sitting down and looking tired.

“I walked home,” I say, leaning back against the wall and shrugging.

“You walked home,” he repeats, saying each word slowly.

“Yes,” I say, dragging out the word.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snaps, standing up and starting to pace.

“Oh, so what, now that you know I’m a stripper it’s okay to talk to me like that?” I ask, gritting my teeth.

“What?” he asks, looking at me as if he hasn’t seen me before. “Do you not know me at all?”

I have no idea what to say, so I stay silent. He doesn’t.

“I was worried. I didn’t want you to walk home alone; it isn’t safe. A few minutes after you left, it hit me; you don’t have your car, and I drove around looking for you,” he says, running his hands through his hair in agitation.

“My phone was on silent. I didn’t even check it,” I say, looking down at my hands. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you.” To be honest, I didn’t think he would be worried about me ever again. I guess I underestimated what a nice guy he is. Or maybe he just feels sorry for me? Great. Grayson curses and walks over to me, standing close but not touching.

“Such beauty…” he says, lifting my chin up with his fingers. “Such a shame it was shared with everyone.”

What? I ignore the pain in my chest and the tears threatening to surface.

“Get out,” I say. My voice is calm and collected.

“Paris…”

“I have a huge debt. It’s not even my debt, but I need to pay it nonetheless. But for you, I quit stripping, not even caring how I was going to pay it off. Putting my sister in danger. I only have one night left, and then I’m done.” I pause and take a deep breath. “I know I was wrong to lie to you about it, and it’s probably unforgiveable, but I don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. Please leave,” I say, my voice cracking. I drop my gaze.

“You could have come to me,” he says, his voice small. I risk a glance at him. He’s not looking at me; he’s standing there lost in thought. “I have more money than I know what to do with. And my woman is fucking stripping to pay shit off? Fuck,” he says, turning his back to me. He threads his hands behind his neck, looking down. “Do you think so little of me?” he asks, shaking his head.

I gape. “This has nothing to do with you! The world doesn’t revolve around you, Grayson! I stripped before I met you, and I continued to strip after. These problems are mine, and I’m going to solve them. Alone.”

He scoffs. “Well, you’ve made sure of that, haven’t you?” With that parting shot, he finally leaves.

And then I fall to the floor, finally letting go and breaking down.

Chapter Sixteen

I apply my fake lashes, wait for them to dry, and then stand up. The white lace material of my dress gets caught on my ring.

“Shit,” I mutter, trying to pull the ring out without ripping the dress.

“Let me help you,” Diamond says, crouching and untangling it for me.

“Thanks,” I say, looking down at my leather thigh high boots.

“How do you feel?” she asks, standing up and putting her arms on my shoulders.

I smile. “I feel good. I’m going to miss you though,” I say.

She grins. “I’m going to miss you too. But, Paris...”

“Yeah?”

“I hope I don’t see you here again,” she says, winking at me.

I laugh. “Me too.”

I wait until Treasure comes off the stage, and then I walk on. I’m greeted by cheers, mainly by the regulars. This is the last time I will ever be doing something like this. Unless it’s in the privacy of my own home for my man, but that’s a completely different story. I work the pole to “xo” by Beyoncé, before the song turns more upbeat, and I face the crowd. When I see him sitting there, his jaw set in steel, I freeze. Our eyes connect, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only people in the room. His expression is blank, but I don’t miss the tight line of his lips and his clenching fists. He hates this. So why is he here? Why did he want to torture the both of us? He knows tonight is my last night; there is no reason for him to see this part of my life because I’m leaving it behind. I turn my face from him and lean back onto the pole. I lift my dress up and over my head, shimmying sexily as I do so. I stand there in a white lace bra, panties, and my boots. I don’t want to look at him. I really don’t, but my eyes dart in his direction of their own accord. His face is now down, hidden in shadows, but he looks tense. His posture is rigid and unforgiving, and I see him stare at one of the men catcalling the loudest. I gulp, spinning around so the men get a nice view of my ass. Tonight was meant to be the easiest performance, my final; instead, it’s the worst one I’ve ever had to do. Grayson is cutting me open by being here tonight, making me bleed all over the stage in front of him. I wish I knew what was going on in that head of his right now.

My bra comes off next, and as it falls to the floor, Grayson stands and walks over to the stage. His face is a mask of rage and anger. He makes toward me but is stopped by a bouncer. Fuck. I’m standing there in the middle of the stage like an idiot, until Diamond comes out and grips me by my hips. It looks like she’s putting on a little show, but really it’s to distract the men as she says into my ear, “Go, I’ll handle it.”

She starts to dance and I gracefully leave the stage. I cover my breasts with my hands as I head straight to the changing rooms, and throw on a white corset and red shorts. I’d love to dress in my jeans and t-shirt but my night isn’t over yet. I walk out toward where Grayson was last seated but he isn’t there anymore; he must have left. He probably thinks so lowly of me now. I know he will never look at me the same. The manager on tonight, Henry, points toward the private rooms, and I cringe. I was hoping no one would request me tonight, but I guess I’m not that lucky. I square my shoulders and walk into the dimmed room. When I see Grayson sitting there staring up at me, my eyes widen.

“Hey,” I say breathlessly, gripping onto the door handle for support.

“Close the door,” he demands, and I do as I’m told. He’s wearing worn jeans and a black V-neck sweater, rolled up to his elbows.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, fiddling with the hem of my short shorts.

He tenses. “I’m a paying customer.”

“What?”

“Dance, Paris. Or should I say, Snow,” he says, leaning back in the chair and eyeing me patiently. He wants a dance? He will get a fucking dance.

And then I hope I never see him again.

I start to move to the music, swaying my hips. I stand just out of his reach as I dance with sensual rhythm, grinding my hips in a circle. My head falls back as I roll my stomach like a belly dancer would. I avoid Grayson’s heated gaze, but I can actually feel his eyes on me. They burn. His hand comes out to try and grab me, but I take a step back. I raise my eyes to his, and a muscle ticks in his jaw as he watches me with unconcealed desire. My hands start on my stomach and work their way up and over my breasts, then my neck. I spin and put my hands on the wall, sticking my ass out and moving seductively. I reach back and undo the zip on my top, letting it fall to the floor, my breasts spilling forth. I turn slowly and let him take me in, his eyes on my naked breasts. He licks his bottom lip.

“Come here,” he demands, eyes lifting to mine. He shifts his hips, and I can see his arousal straining against his jeans.

He wants me.

But I’m enjoying torturing him.

“No,” I tell him, continuing my dance. He grits his teeth together. I flash him a smug grin as I slide down onto my knees, spreading them apart. I watch as his lips mouth ‘fuck,’ as I run my hands over my breasts as I watch him. He gets up and lifts me so I’m standing, his fingers on my hips. I walk back with him and push him so he’s back to his seated position.

“Paris,” he says, his tone pleading. When he rubs down the front of his jeans, a moan escapes my lips. My anger toward him turns to need, and unable to stop myself, I walk toward him and straddle his hips. His hands instantly come to my hips, holding me down so I can’t move away. His chest rises and falls with his deep breaths, as I slowly start to grind down on his cock. He’s hard as a rock, and I bite my bottom lip as I fall against his chest, and then stick my face in the crook of his neck as I push up on my knees. I’ve never given a dance like this before, and I hope he doesn’t think it’s like this for all my customers. Because it isn’t. It’s just for him.

“Fuck, Paris,” he growls into my ear.

“I want you,” I pant back.

“Fuck. Not here,” he says, and I sit back and realize just where we are and what’s going on. I move to get off his lap but he keeps me in place with his grip.

“I’m glad this is your last night here,” he says. I stare into his dark eyes and sigh.

“What are we doing, Gray?” I ask, panting slightly.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’m taking you home.”

“Okay,” I murmur as I stand up. He picks my top up off the floor and helps me put it on. He asks me to give him a minute to calm down before we walk out. As we leave, Justin walks up toward the private booths, smiling at me. Fucking hell. Grayson tenses, then walks up to Justin and punches him right in the face. No hesitation, no thought, just hits him square in the jaw. Lucky today is my last shift or I would have gotten fired. Justin falls back against the bar, holding his jaw. Grayson walks up to him and says something to him, before he returns to me, takes me by the hand, and drags me out.

“Why did you do that?” I ask, feeling a little dazed.

“That’s Jake’s dad,” he says, putting me in the car and closing the door. Justin is Jake’s dad? Holy crap. So he’s the one who took pictures of me? I shudder at the thought and put on my seat belt. Grayson slides into the driver’s seat and looks over at me.

“Let’s get you home,” he says gently.

* * *

“How does it feel to be unemployed?” Anaya asks around a mouthful of cereal the next morning.

I groan. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“You could get a real job in a bar. You know, instead of the one you made up,” she says, giggling. A lock of her red hair falls on her face, and she blows it away, and then continues to eat.

“Don’t make me throw something at you,” I sulk. Last night, Grayson drove me home, walked me to the door and said bye. Then he left. The drive itself was quiet and uneventful, leaving me confused and wondering where exactly we stand right now. Paul walks out of Anaya’s room wearing nothing but boxer shorts so I avert my eyes. He plops down on the chair next to my roommate and pulls her bowl of cereal closer to him, stealing her spoon and taking a bite.

“What’s new?” he asks, giving me a friendly nod.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair and folding my arms. “You know, the usual. Quit a strip club, now need to find a new job to pay off a debt before the man my sister owes money to comes looking for one of the two of us.”

Paul blinks, and then looks at Anaya. “Your place has way more action than mine. Why don’t we stay here more often?”

Anaya rolls her eyes. “Because I don’t want to scare Paris with all of your sex noises.”

I blush and pretend to stare at something on the other side of the room that has suddenly become interesting.

“Leave her alone. You’re making her blush,” Paul adds dryly, and then lifts up the bowl to drink the milk. A knock on the door has me perking up.

“I’ll get it,” Paul says standing up. “Because I’m such a gentleman.”

“If you have to tell people you’re a gentleman, then you’re probably not,” Anaya says, grinning. These two. When Grayson walks back in with Paul a few seconds later, I can’t hide my surprise.

“Good morning,” he says, flashing us all a charming smile. “What have I missed?” he asks, sitting down at the table with us as if he does it every day.

“What have you missed? Paul thinks he’s a gentleman; that’s about it,” Anaya says, darting her gaze from Grayson to me and back again. Paul bends down and places a kiss on Anaya’s mouth. She mock pushes him away, and then the two start getting grabby.

“What about you, Grayson? Are you a gentleman?” she asks when Paul lets her go.

“Of course,” Grayson replies instantly. He turns to look at me. “Except in the bedroom.”

Anaya’s eyes widen. “I bet Paris can attest to that.” There my face goes, red again. Grayson smiles at me knowingly.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say, standing up and walking to my room as he trails behind. I sit on my bed as he closes the door, and then comes to sit down next to me.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I was an asshole last night. Seeing you up there… I was angry and jealous that other men got to see what’s mine. And pretty fucking angry,” he says, running his hand along his jaw.

“So you were angry?” I ask dryly, lightening the mood a little.

He scoffs. “Just a little. I’m still angry, but—”

I cut him off. “You realise that you ended it with me, so you have no right to go around saying that I’m yours,” I tell him. My phone rings, “Say Something” by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera plays, my new ringtone. The song fills the room between us. I ignore the call.

“I had just found out the love of my life was a stripper,” he says dryly, shrugging in a ‘what do you expect’ kind of way.

I grit my teeth. “You’re too young to have found the love of your life.”

He stills. “I’m twenty-one—old enough to know what I want. I’ve been with my fair share of girls and…”

“Don’t remind me,” I mutter, rubbing my hands down my face. I’m tired. So bloody tired.

“You look tired,” he says, brows furrowing. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I am tired,” I say. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us,” he says.

“There is no us,” I remind him, crossing my arms over my chest. Do I want him back? Of course I do. But I know that things between us will be different. I can already sense it in what he says, and the way he says it. He’s going to use this against me.

“There will always be an ‘us’,” he says. “Even though you were leading a double life I had no idea about.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Case in point. I stand up. “If that’s all you have to say, then please leave.”

He opens his mouth to argue but then closes it. “You need to rest. We can talk later,” he says. He kisses me once on my forehead, his lips searing my skin with the simple touch.

Then he leaves.

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.

Chapter Eighteen

“So where did you work before here?” Aiden innocently asks, causing me to almost choke on my drink.

“Oh, you know,” I say, trying to wave off his question.

“No, I don’t know, but now I’m certainly intrigued,” he says, brows rising.

“Maybe we should wait until I’m hired for sure,” I say, inciting a laugh from him. He may laugh, but I’m being dead serious.

“Come on, I won’t judge you on it. I swear,” he says, crossing his heart with his finger.

Backed into a corner, I either have to tell the truth or lie. As I’ve recently learnt, truth is always the best option. “I used to work at Toxic.”

His mouth drops. “The strip club?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, the strip club.”

He eyes my body. “I guess I could see that.”

I gasp. “You pig!”

He laughs. “I’m just messing around. Well, you’re hot. No judgement though, I swear.”

I narrow my eyes on his. “We’ll see about that.”

He laughs harder. “I’m not going to ask you to give me a show or anything if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

I blink. “Are you always this annoying?”

“Yes,” he says. “Actually, I get worse than this.”

My eyes widen. “Is this why you needed to hire someone? Everyone quit after they worked with you, didn’t they?”

He shakes his head at me. “Oh, please. Everyone loves me.”

“You’re the boss. I’m sure they pretend to,” I add, smirking.

“But not you, huh?” he replies, laughing some more. A group of customers walk toward the bar.

“Time to see what you’re made of,” he says, waving his hand toward the people.

“Trust me, this is nothing,” I brag.

He follows behind me. “Let’s see then.”

I serve two customers as he serves the others. I check the drink chart for one of the drinks, the other’s simple—a vodka orange. I use the register as Aiden had shown me, and give the correct change.

“Easy peasy,” I say when the customers leave.

He nods. “You did well.”

“So? Do I have the job?” I ask eagerly.

He grins. “We will see at the end of the night.”

Challenge accepted.

* * *

"How was your first day at work?” Grayson asks as he sits on the grass next to me.

“It was good actually. It was a trial shift, to see how I did, but he told me at the end of the night I was hired,” I say, popping a grape in my mouth.

“I bet he did,” Grayson mutters.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my hackles rising.

“Nothing,” he says, sliding closer to me.

I put my hands up. “Say it. Don’t be a pussy,” I demand.

His mouth opens in shock at my comment. Then he bursts out laughing. “I can’t believe that just came out of your little mouth.”

“Hmmph.”

“I just meant that you’re a sexy, beautiful girl…”

“Yeah, not because I’m a hard worker or anything, right?” I say, pursing my lips.

“Of course you’re a hard worker. And you’re smart. I’m not denying that,” he says, giving me a crooked smile. “Just ignore me. I’m jealous as an idiot.”

“Jealous? Seriously?”

He lifts his arm and wraps it around my shoulder. I lean my head on his chest, welcoming his comfort. “I just feel off-kilter, you know? I don’t like this space we have between us now.”

I stay silent, just breathing in his scent and enjoying being back in his arms.

“Can I take you out tonight?” he asks. “Maybe you can stay over?”

I look up at him, at his hopeful expression. “Okay.”

His shoulders relax. “Good. My sister wants to spend some time with you as well.”

“Yeah, she said she would message me.”

“I think she’s planning on asking you to go out with her this weekend,” he says, pushing my hair off my neck and to the side.

“Is Dylan going to be there?” I ask, hating to admit that I would rather not see her face.

“Don’t worry about her, okay. She doesn’t have me; she never did. I’m all yours. I’ll tell Leah to make sure Dylan isn’t around.”

I sigh. “Yeah, okay.”

He chuckles. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to. Maybe I’ll bring Anaya along with me,” I say, nodding my head.

“You do know that I’m coming, right,” he says into my ear. Goosebumps appear all over my skin.

“How can you come? I haven’t even touched you yet,” I reply, grinning at my response.

He shakes his head at me. “Me. You. Tonight.”

“I have a condition,” I say.

“Anything.”

“Listen to what I have to say first. If you’ve forgiven me for everything, then I need you to actually forgive me, and not throw it in my face every chance you get.” This is important to me. We either move on, or we don’t. I know it’s harder said than done, and selfish on my part to ask this of him, but I need to know.

He leans down and kisses me. “I forgive you. I won’t bring it up again.”

“If you want to talk about it, we can. Just please don’t make little comments, because they really hurt.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, babe. I promise,” he says, his eyes full of worry and remorse.

“Thank you,” I say gratefully, pulling him back down by his shirt for a deeper kiss. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. And not just because you found out that way, but because I should have trusted you enough to be honest.”

“I’m not going to lie, I was pissed. Fucking pissed, hurt, and angry. But I can’t lose you. I won’t,” he says, pinning me with his stare. “We’re both far from perfect, but I know what we have is different. Special. And I sure as hell plan to fight for it.”

“I want you to fight for us,” I tell him, my voice weak.

“You aren’t getting away that easily, Paris,” he says, tickling me under my ribs. I laugh, pushing him away.

“Come and pick me up around six,” I say, standing and bending over to pick up my bag. I turn to look at him, and catch him staring at my ass. “Enjoying the view?”

“Always,” he says huskily.

I wink at him and then head to my next class.

Chapter Nineteen

I hang up the phone, and flop onto my bed, groaning into the pillow. London will be the death of me. I finally called her back to see what the heck was going on. Apparently, she wants to come and visit me. I wonder who she’s pissed off that she suddenly wants to come to Perth. A knock at the door reminds me that Grayson is coming to pick me up. I hop out of bed and practically run to the door, opening it in record time. He stands there, holding a dozen roses and a sweet smile.

“For me?” I ask, playing coy.

“Always,” he says, handing me the bouquet and kissing me on my nose.

“They are beautiful, thank you,” I tell him, smelling the roses and walking into the kitchen to find a vase. I pull one out of the back of the cupboard and fill it with some water, and then put the roses in it. Grayson stands behind me, his front pressed against my back.

“You smell good,” he rumbles into my ear. He pushes my hair off my shoulder and places a kiss on my neck. I reach my hands back and wrap them around his neck, my head falling back. He trails kisses down my neck, knowing exactly what it does to me. I feel the tug in my lower belly and squeeze my thighs together. When he moves away, I groan and turn around to face him.

“Don’t tease me!”

A deep chuckle fills my ears. “Not teasing. Bedroom. Now.” He grips my ass, his large hands tightening on each round globe. Lifting me up, I wrap my legs around his narrow waist and hold on for dear life as he stalks into my room and throws me onto the bed. I bounce once, before he’s on me, kissing me with unrivalled passion.

“Missed you,” he says in between kisses.

“I missed you too,” I pant out, threading my hands in his hair and pulling him back down for more. His mouth soon leaves my lips and heads south, kissing down my neck and then to my breasts. Pulling down my top and the cups of my bra, he takes my nipple into his mouth and suckles. My mouth makes a small O, and my back arches in pleasure. His hands roam my thighs, pushing up my skirt and sliding into my panties as his mouth continues to work magic on my nipples.

“Want you.” He bites down gently with his teeth.

“Fuck, Grayson!” I moan out. His tongue peeps out, licking and soothing the pain of the bite. He pulls down my panties and then rolls over onto his back, sliding off his jeans and lifting me on top of him. Straddling him, I guide him into me and push down with one smooth thrust. We both moan simultaneously. I start to ride him with enthusiasm, pushing up and down at the perfect angle. It’s not long before I turn almost frantic, on the crest of climax. My head falls back against my neck as I scream out Grayson’s name. I all but collapse on top of him, when he rolls on top of me and takes over. Good thing because it feels like that orgasm wrung the life out of me.

“Not finished with you yet, babe,” he says in a deep rumble.

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” I say breathily.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

Leah messages me the next day, asking me to go out on Friday night. I reply telling her I would love to and ask if I can bring Anaya. She says sure, so it looks like I’m going clubbing. I walk into work and smile when I see Aiden laughing with another guy. He has a shaved head, and a goatee; both look damn good on him. Behind him sits another good-looking guy. He’s covered in tattoos and is holding a little girl in his hands. I watch as he tells her something with causes her to burst out in giggles.

“Ahhh, here she is now,” Aiden says as I walk up, winking at me.

I glance at him in suspicion. “What are you up to?” I ask.

“Nothing. I just want you to meet my cousin, Tag. Tag this is Paris. The new girl I just hired,” he says, nodding his head at me.

“Nice to meet you,” I tell Tag, who gives me a once-over and a cheeky smile.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he says in a voice that can make panties melt. “This is Xander. And the little princess is my daughter Bella.”

Xander looks up and gives me a chin lift. My eyes widen. He’s beautiful. His tattoos cover his neck and both his arms. Bella gives me a little wave—she really is too cute.

“You know, if you ever get sick of this idiot, you can come work at the bar I work at,” he says. Aiden mock punches him, and Tag grabs him in a head lock. The two of them are adorable.

“Go, Daddy!” Bella calls out, waving her arms in the air. Aiden and Tag stop their messing around and start laughing.

“Aww, Bella, you break my heart,” Aiden says, mock pouting.

“I love you too, Aiden,” she says in a serious tone. Aiden walks over to her and kisses her on the top of her head. Xander, Tag, and Bella leave a little while later, and Aiden and I get back to work.

I’m surprised an hour later when Grayson comes in. He sits at the bar in front of where I’m standing and smiles.

“What can I get you, handsome?” I ask in a husky tone.

His smile widens as he leans forward. “Are you on the menu?”

I giggle. “So cheesy. You want a beer?”

“Yes, please, I’d love one,” he says. I turn to the fridge and pull out a bottle of his favourite beer. Aiden chooses that moment to walk out of the back and right up to me.

“I’m heading out. Will you be all right? Jackie and Shannon will both be in any minute now,” he says.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell him. Grayson is the only customer we have right now. I put the beer in front of Grayson, who is now staring daggers at Aiden. Aiden notices and turns to look at me, eyebrow raised.

“Grayson, this is my boss, Aiden. Aiden, this is my boyfriend, Grayson,” I say, turning from one to the other.

“Really. I had no idea you had a boyfriend,” Aiden says, smirking. I narrow my eyes on him. I hadn’t told him, but only because it’s none of his business and it never came up. I look at Grayson to see his lips tightening into a thin line.

“Well, she does,” he replies, hand gripping the bottle of beer tightly.

“I can see that. See you tomorrow, Paris,” Aiden says, whistling as he walks out.

I turn to Grayson, looking apologetic. “Sorry about that.”

“He’s your boss?” he asks, running one hand through his hair.

“Yes,” I reply, drawing out the word.

“So he’s who you’re here with until late at night. Alone?”

“Grayson, seriously,” I snap, losing my patience.

“You have no idea who he is, do you?” he asks, taking a huge gulp of beer. He puts down the bottle and stares at me.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, completely lost.

“Aiden Rivers. He used to be lead singer for that band, Ageless Devastation. They used to be really popular in Perth before they broke up about two years back.”

I’m sure my eyebrows are hitting my hairline. “Aiden used to a lead singer for a well-known band?” Goofy, annoying, but sweet and funny Aiden? I start to laugh. I can’t help it.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, dark eyes narrowed to slits.

I shrug. “Aiden’s a little… goofy. I just don’t see it.”

His eyes soften. “You’re not attracted to him?” he asks, staring at me intently, waiting for my response.

“No. I mean he is good-looking,” he starts to scowl, “but he’s not my type. Besides it wouldn’t matter either way, I’m a one-man woman.”

“Lucky man,” he says, the air in the room lightening.

“You better believe it,” I reply. Two girls walk in. One is Jackie, whom I’ve met before. The other must be Shannon.

“Hey, Paris,” Jackie calls out. Shannon gives me a small wave.

“Hey, Jackie,” I reply, turning back to Grayson. Jackie comes to stand next to me. I can see where this is going already. Grayson is extremely good-looking, and unfortunately, I’m not the only one who notices it.

“Can I get you another drink?” she asks him, practically purring.

“No thanks,” Grayson replies politely, his eyes on me the entire time. Jackie notices and pouts.

“He yours?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply. All mine. And I’m not sharing—ever.

“Lucky bitch,” she mutters, giving me a wink before walking off.

“Call me if you ever have to be here alone,” he says, gaining my attention. “I’ll come and wait with you. I don’t like the idea of you being here by yourself.”

“Gray--”

“It’s not safe, Paris.”

“Yeah, okay,” I give in.

“Good,” he says, lip twitching. “I have to head into work for a bit. I’ll come pick you up when you’re finished. Ten o’clock, right?”

“Yeah ten,” I say, leaning over the bar and putting my lips close to his. “I’ll see you then.”

He moves the rest of the way, closing the slight space between us and kisses me. The kiss is possessive and loving and leaves me wanting more.

“Be careful. Call me if you need anything, I’m not too far away from here,” he says against my lips.

“Okay.”

“I’ll bring you something to eat,” he says, eyes smiling.

“Sounds good,” I say, brushing my lips against his one last time. I pull back and wave bye as he gets up and leaves.

Chapter Twenty

I walk into the club, Anaya by my side, the both of us dressed to kill. Friday night came around quickly, and I told Grayson I would meet him here. Of course, he didn’t like that; he wanted to pick me up, but I told him Anaya was driving so there was no point. He grumbled, but surprisingly gave in. I spot him instantly at the bar with his sister. Anaya links her hand in mine as we walk toward them. I know the second Grayson sees me, because he turns his head and stills. I hide my smile as I stop before him. Before I can speak, he cradles my face in his hands and kisses me. He then puts his lips at my ear and says, “You look breathtaking.”

I blush. I’d chosen a dress of Anaya’s, a blue chiffon dress I fell in love with the moment I saw. I go to introduce Leah and Anaya, but the two of them are already talking and introducing themselves. Oops. I throw Grayson a look, like it’s his fault I’m appearing rude. He grins wolfishly, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“You don’t need to baby her,” he says into my ear, looking amused. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes please,” I say, turning to Anaya and Leah and asking them what they want. Grayson orders for us, and then pulls me to the dance floor.

“I know you have some moves,” he whispers into my ear, pulling my ass against him. “I was so angry that night, but I was also so fucking hard.”

We start to dance, nothing too raunchy. He has his hands on my hips, and we move together in time with the music. A few songs later, we return to Leah and Anaya who are doing a shot of something green. Leah smiles when she sees me and grabs my arm, pulling me next to her.

“There are so many hot guys here tonight!” she gushes, glancing around. I follow her line of direction. I hadn’t even noticed any hot guys besides Grayson. “Do you want to dance?” she asks. I nod. The three of us head to the dance floor, leaving Grayson alone at the bar. When we return, he’s not alone.

“Shit. I had no idea she would be here,” Leah says. Grayson is inching away from Dylan, who is trying to get as close as she can to tell him something. I walk up next to him and his arm comes around me instantly.

“Forget my invite did you, Leah?” Dylan sneers, throwing a look at her friend. Leah rolls her eyes.

Grayson scoffs. “Not exactly.”

“Seriously? Just because she comes along I get thrown out of the group? Replaced?”

“That’s not what happened and you know it. Leave us alone, Dylan,” Grayson says, bringing me closer and kissing me on top of my head. Dylan storms off, re-joining the group of girls she must have arrived with.

An hour later, I walk into the ladies’ room. There are a few girls talking amongst themselves by the sinks.

“It’s not like I like going down on a guy, but it’s just common courtesy to reciprocate,” one girl is telling her friend. I hide my smile at their conversation. When I exit the bathroom, I come face to face with Dylan. Just what I need right now.

“He’ll come back to me, you know. He always does,” she says, pouting her red lips.

I shrug. “If he does go back to you, then I wouldn’t want him anyway,” I say, walking away before she can talk more shit. Walking back to our spot, I laugh when I see Grayson dancing with his sister, playing around and doing some silly dance moves. Leah is slapping his arm, possibly telling him to stop embarrassing her going by the redness of her face. Anaya is on her phone; I’m guessing texting Paul. She wanted him to come out tonight, but he had to work. I smile at Grayson—who is waving me over. I walk onto the dance floor and save Leah from him.

“I love you,” he says to me.

“I love you too.”

When I get home that night, I see my sister has left me a text message.

I’ll be there next week. What’s your address?

Shit.

* * *

I run home, panting, my bag swinging on my arm. London is coming today, and I forgot. I forgot. I received a message saying that she has landed and is catching a cab to my apartment while I was in class. So she might already be there, if not, could be arriving at any second. Grayson is there, probably still asleep in my bed since he didn’t have an early class. I run up the steps, pull out my key and unlock the door.

“Grayson?” I call out, throwing my bag on the floor and walking straight into the kitchen. I stop as I see him, bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of worn jeans, low on his hips, button undone.

“Hey, babe, how was class?” he asks, stalking over to me and dipping me backwards with a welcoming kiss.  When he lifts me back up, I forget what I was going to say. Oh, right. My sister.

“London is coming today! Like now! Any second now,” I ramble.

His brows lower. “That’s today?” Looks like I’m not the only one who forgot.

“Apparently so.”

“Okay, so don’t stress. You know I could have picked her up from the airport, right?” he says, not for the first time.

“Don’t worry. She can manage.”

“I can pick up something for dinner,” he offers.

“That would be great,” I say, tying my hair on top of my head in a messy bun. I don’t know how I feel having London visit. She’s a troublemaker and an opportunist. I don’t mean to be rude, but I really don’t want her staying here. I told her she can stay for a couple days until she figures out whatever she wants to do. There’s a knock at the door and dread fills me.

“Paris?” she yells, opening the door. I didn’t even lock it in my haste. I walk to the door, stopping when I see her. She looks the same. Blond hair, a few shades darker than mine, the same blue eyes, and pale skin. I give her a hug.

“Hey,” I say.

“You look the same,” she says, grinning.

“So do you.”

“How was your flight?” I ask, helping her with her suitcase.

“Babe, let me grab that,” Grayson says.

“Grayson, this is London. London, this is Grayson,” I say. Grayson shakes her hand, touching it for only a second before stepping back, as if her touch burned. London tilts her head and looks at him, deep in thought as he takes her suitcase and drags it into the lounge room.

“He’s your boyfriend?” she asks.

“Yes, why?”

“No reason. Cute place you have here,” she says, looking around.

“Thanks. Can I get you something to drink?” I ask her as we walk into the kitchen.

“Yeah. Do you have any juice?” she asks, plopping down in one of the chairs. I nod and pour her some orange juice. Grayson doesn’t come back out so I go to my bedroom and find him sitting there, head in his hands. He looks up as soon as he hears me.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Fine, just have a headache,” he says, forcing a smile.

“I’ll get you some pain killers,” I say, kissing him on the top of his head before heading into the kitchen to find some paracetamol.

“Everything okay?” she asks, sipping on her juice.

“Yep. You can sleep in my roommate’s bedroom. She said she will stay at her boyfriend’s for a few days.”

“That’s nice of her,” she says absently.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

She pouts. “Can’t a girl visit her big sister?”

I sigh. “Cut the shit, London. What do you want?”

She purses her lips. “My boyfriend broke up with me and kicked me out of his house. I have nowhere else to go, and no money. I messaged you when I first sensed something was going on. He met someone else,” she says, looking down, her hair covering her face like a curtain.

“Weren’t you working?” I ask her.

“No. He was supporting me. He was completely rich. All I have left is the jewellery he bought me when we were together.”

I look up and see Grayson standing there, leaning on the doorframe listening. His body is tense, his face drawn.

“Sorry, Gray. Here,” I say, handing him two pills and a bottle of water.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, taking them from me. “Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure,” I say, walking into my room. He closes the door behind us.

“We said we would be honest and truthful with one another,” he starts.

“We did,” I say, nodding for him to continue.

“When we met,” he says, looking broken. His voice is raw when he continues, “You looked so familiar.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning.

“Once, when I went to Melbourne on business with my dad, I met a girl in a club. I brought her back to my hotel room, and then the next morning she was gone.” He pauses. “I thought you were her.”

I open my mouth and snap it shut. What?

“I don’t understand,” I mutter, shaking my head in confusion.

“When you were a virgin, I realized you weren’t her. That’s why I was so confused, and I walked out. I didn’t get it—you looked like her. Of course, it didn’t matter really—I was in love with you. I didn’t care that you weren’t her. I didn’t even know her. I just slept with her once. I didn’t even know her name or anything,” he says, wringing his hands together. “Fuck, I’m doing a shit job at trying to explain this. Bottom line is, I thought you were her. When you weren’t, I didn’t give a shit. I was just confused about it, because you looked so much like her. I didn’t even think about it again. When you mentioned you had a sister, I hoped that it wasn’t her…”

When it all hits me, my heart breaks. The pain in my chest is overwhelming, spreading throughout my body like a disease.

“You slept with London?” I whisper so quietly, I don’t even know if he heard me. London does look like me; there is no denying that. She’s younger by a year but we look the same age. “That’s why you chased after me? You thought you already had me? And what? I was playing a game?” I ask, my voice getting louder.

“I thought you were pretending, and then I thought you didn’t remember. When I found out you were a virgin, I realized I was completely wrong, but I was happy, because I’d found you…”

I rub my forehead, unable to believe this is happening to me.

“You wanted me to be her?” I say, blocking out all his other words.

“No! No, that’s not it at all. I love you. You’re beautiful, kind, and smart. You’re everything I could ever dream of in a woman. She’s… I’m so glad I met you, Paris. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You slept with my sister,” I say in a small voice.

“Before I ever knew you existed,” he says, trying to take me into his arms to comfort me. Why does he always try to comfort me from pain he’s caused? Why does he do this to me? I wanted honesty. I demanded it from him. My secret came out and now his has. Except I don’t know how to take it. I don’t know how to react. I feel… broken.

“Paris, can you please listen to me?” he begs, going down on his knees before me. He leans his head against my stomach, silently pleading with me. He wants me to touch him. Body contact. Reassurance. I can’t offer him either. I take a step back, breaking the contact between the two of us.

“It’s in the past, Paris,” he says, his voice breaking.

“I know it’s in the past, but you chased after me thinking I was her. That means you wanted her again, not me.”

“I knew it wasn’t her after we made love!”

I crumble, the first tear falling. Grayson stares at my face, watching me. His expression mirrors my own.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Don’t cry, love, please don’t cry.”

“I. Want. To. Be. Alone,” I say, emphasising each word. I turn from him, unable to look at him any longer.

“Don’t do this, babe,” he pleads.

“Can you just give me this? I just want to be by myself. Please.”

I feel his heat behind me. His arms circle my waist from behind. “I love you. You. I know you, inside and out, and I love everything about you. You’re the one I fell for. I just had one night of sex with her. That’s it. Sex. No emotion.”

“Must have been good sex if you came back for seconds,” I snap.

“I don’t know how to get you to understand,” he mutters. “She pales in comparison, Paris. I love you, and I hope you can forgive me.”

He buries his face in my hair for a few seconds, places a kiss on my head and then walks out.

I slide into bed and start sobbing.

Chapter Twenty-One

“If I could go back in time I wouldn’t have screwed him,” London says, trying to cheer me up. She’s sitting on my bed with a tub of ice cream, trying to make me eat some.

“I want to hear your side of the story,” I say, sitting up against my pillows.

She winces. “Why torture yourself, sis?”

“Tell me,” I growl.

“Okay, okay. Jeez. I was at a club. I can’t even remember the name of it now. Met Grayson on the dance floor. By the way, I didn’t even know his name. We made out; things got a little hot and heavy so he took me back to his hotel room.” She stops, looking at me to see how I’m taking things. I actually feel like throwing up, each word cutting me like a knife, but I try to keep my face expressionless. “We had sex. We didn’t even talk really. He was hot. I was hot. That was the extent of things. You don’t need to get so upset, Paris. There was nothing there. Just some really good hot sex.” I throw my pillow at her. “Just being honest, babe,” she says, eating a spoon of ice cream.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admit.

“I saw how he looked at you. He’s a man in love. Forgive him. What happened between us is ancient history, not even worth mentioning. Do you know how many men I’ve had similar nights with?” she asks, wiggling a finely arched brow.

I cringe. “Spare me the details, please.”

“You should have seen his face when he walked out of the room. I felt bad for the guy.”

“How would you feel if one of your boyfriends had sex with me?” I ask her.

She considers it. “We could get rich off that, you know.”

“London!” I snap.

“I’m just messing around,” she says, but she sounds like she isn’t. She seriously worries me.

“By the way, I don’t have the money to pay Trevor this month,” I say, referring to her ex-boyfriend that she owes money to.

She looks a little alarmed, but then waves it off. “We’ll figure it out. You know I never thanked you for saving my ass back then. You’re the best big sister in the world, and it’s about time I paid you back for everything you’ve done for me.”

“How about going back in time and not sleeping with my boyfriend,” I mutter under my breath.

“Paris,” she says. “Forget it happened. Move forward. He’s been gone a couple of hours, why don’t you call him?”

“Easier said than done.”

She nods. “Maybe. But you need to keep your eyes on the prize. Grayson is a catch, and if you don’t want him, trust me another woman will.”

My eyes snap to her.

“Not me!” she says, putting her hands up.

I groan and cover my face with my hands. “This is not how today was meant to go.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “If I hadn’t come, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“The truth would have come out eventually. It’s not your fault. We should go out and get some dinner,” I say, forcing myself to get out of bed. I look at my sister. “You’ve changed.”

“Yeah? So have you. You’re a lot stronger now,” she says, looking at me with pride.

I nod. I didn’t really have a choice.

* * *

“Oh, my God, there’s two of them,” Aiden says as London and I walk into work.

“Aiden, London. London, this is my boss,” I say.

“Hello, handsome,” London purrs. I slap her shoulder. “Ouch!”

“Stay away from her. She’s a viper,” I tell Aiden, ignoring London’s gasp of indignation.

Aiden chuckles. “Noted.”

“That being said, this viper needs a job. I know you were looking for someone else, so I was wondering...?” I let my question trail off.

He eyes London. “Is the viper a hard worker?”

Well, that’s a hard question to answer.

“I can become one,” London says, shrugging.

I look at Aiden, who bursts out laughing. “I’ll give you a trial. That’s all I can promise.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, leaning forward against the bar.

He grins. “The two of you might bring in more customers.”

I gasp. “Pervert.”

“Maybe I should get another bouncer, too,” he muses, not paying any attention to me.

“Okay, London, job—check. Now we need to find you a place to live,” I say.

“If you move in with Grayson, I could just live in your apartment,” she says, tapping a manicured finger on her lips. Aiden is suddenly interested in the conversation since gossip is involved.

“Moving in already?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not moving anywhere,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.

“Where is Grayson, Mr Possessive, anyway?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“In the dog house,” London mock-whispers, dragging her finger across her throat.

“What did he do?” he asks, now scowling. Aww, my boss is a little protective of me it seems.

“He slept with my sister,” I say at the same time London says, “What’s a little sharing amongst sisters?”

Aiden’s mouth drops open. “No fucking way.”

London scoffs, “She’s only telling you the bad part of the story, not the good.”

“How the hell is there a good part of the story?” I ask, crossing my arms. Aiden’s head turns back and forth, and he watches the two of us argue. A customer walks in so Aiden herds us into the backroom where we can have privacy.

“Has he been calling you?” London asks, sitting on top of the desk.

“Yeah. Non-stop.”

“See. Put him out of his misery,” she says, playing with the end of a lock of her hair. Easy for her to say. She doesn’t have to think about the love of her life with her own sister. Or the fact that he only started getting to know me because he thought I was her. That’s what hurts the most. Was their one night together so amazing and filled with passion that he wanted seconds? Was he upset when he found out I wasn’t London? He did walk out on me that night, leaving me alone and confused. I really don’t know what to think, all I know is this—it hurts. I’m not ready to forgive him or to face him just yet. I pull my phone out. Twenty-eight missed calls and ten messages. All from Grayson. I reply to him, one simple message.

I need time.

That’s all I have to offer right now.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Two weeks have passed since I last spoke to Grayson. I don’t answer his calls. I sit in a different seat in the classes we share, and I avoid him as much as I can. The few times he’s tried to talk to me or showed up at my house, I’ve excused myself or not answered the door. It’s been hell, and I’ve been walking around and living life on auto pilot. London got a place of her own, about five minutes away from my house. She’s getting on her feet and working on being independent, and I couldn’t be happier for her. She’s still selfish and self-involved, but I guess I should take whatever improvement I can get from her and not push my luck. She isn’t going to become a better person overnight; that’s for damn sure. After work, I get Aiden to drop me off at Grayson’s. I don’t know what I’m doing, but shutting him out has been hurting both of us, and I’ve had enough. I’m confused, and I don’t know what the hell to do to get over this.

“Thanks Aiden,” I tell him, kissing him on the cheek.

“No problem. You can call me anytime you know that, right?”

“I appreciate that. Best boss ever,” I tell him, sliding out of the car and closing the door. I wave bye as I turn around and walk to the house. Grayson’s car is out front, so I know he’s at home. I have a key of his but I feel weird using it after not talking to him all this time and not knowing where we stand as a couple. I knock on the door, and fidget with my hair as I wait for him to answer. He opens the door, standing there, looking surprised.

“Paris,” he says, his gaze trailing over me from head to toe.

“Hey, I thought maybe we could talk?” I say, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“I’d love that,” he says. “I do have to tell you that…”

“Grayson! Hurry up!” someone calls from inside the house. My eyes widen as I recognise the voice. Fuck. This.

“Wow,” I say, in shock.

“It’s not what you think,” Grayson quickly says, reaching out to take hold of my elbow. I wrench my arm away from him and take a step back, retreating away from his house. I pull out my phone and call Aiden.

“Hello.”

“Can you come back and pick me up? Please?” I beg him.

“Of course, give me a minute.”

We hang up. I walk to the driveway and stand there, scanning the streets for my escape. Grayson stands next to me.

“Paris, listen to me!” he growls. “Can you give me one minute to explain?”

I shake my head, sighing in relief as Aiden’s car pulls up. Grayson takes my arm again, but I pull free and jump into the passenger’s side.

“Drive, please,” I tell him, as Grayson stands by my window. I lock the door before he can try opening it. Then I stare at him as he calls out my name over and over again, his eyes pleading with mine.

But what did he expect when he had my sister at his house?

* * *

An hour passes before the banging starts on my door.

“London’s here!” Anaya calls out. I make a scoffing noise and continue to type furiously on my laptop. My room door opens and London walks in, wearing a scowl.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that!” she snaps.

“Excuse me?” I growl back.

“I know I slept with him before you knew him, but what kind of person do you think I am to sleep with him now?”

“The kind of person that lets her sister strip to pay her debts?” I say in a fake sweet tone.

She gasps. “I guess I deserved that. Okay, I definitely deserved that. But even if you don’t trust me, do you really think Grayson would do that to you? The guy is pathetic over you! Between you and me, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been eating or sleeping. Maybe not even showering either.”

“Then why the hell were you there? And how often have you seen him?”

She sits down on my bed. “Today is the first time I’ve seen him, I swear.”

“Explain,” I demand.

She sighs, and looks at me, cringing a little. “You might get angry.”

“Speak, London, before I murder you with my bare hands.”

“Whoa. Feisty. Today I got a call from Grayson. He wanted to know Trevor’s details so he could pay off the debt. He picked me up from my place and we went to his, got on the computer, and transferred all the money to him. Then he called and spoke to Trevor, making sure he was going to leave us alone.”

“He paid the debt?” I ask, blinking slowly.

“Yes. So that’s why I was there. Trust me, Grayson doesn’t want me, or anyone else,” she says, lying back on my bed and making herself comfortable.

“Well, shit,” I say. Looks like I have some apologizing to do. “I’ll go over and talk to him tomorrow.”

“No need,” she says, smirking. “He’s in the car waiting for you.”

I turn to stare at her.

“What? How else do you think I got here?”

Ignoring her, I get up and walk to the front door, and then outside. As London said, Grayson is sitting in his car, staring down at something, his phone I think. He lifts his head when I open the passenger’s door.

“Hey,” I say, closing the door after me. “I’m sorry about before.”

“If you would have let me talk…”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I repeat.

He starts the car. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“My house,” he says. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I stare at his handsome profile as he drives. He looks the same, albeit a little scruffier, but it looks good on him. Then again, I think anything looks good on him.

I stare out the window, trying to organise my thoughts. The ride is silent, so I turn on the radio. Grayson reaches out and hesitantly puts his hand on my thigh, giving it a little squeeze before removing it.

When we enter his house, I take a seat and gently bite my lip, wondering what to say; how to explain myself.

“I hope you weren’t mad at your sister. I brought her here because she doesn’t have a laptop,” he says, leaning his elbows in his thighs.

I clear my throat. “She explained it to me. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

“It’s okay,” he says.

“Thank you for dealing with Trevor. No one has really taken care of me before, and I really appreciate it, Gray.”

“It was nothing. Don’t mention it,” he says, leaning back against the couch.

“It wasn’t nothing. That was a lot of money, and I promise you, I will figure out a way to pay you back,” I tell him, clasping my hands together.

“Paris,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t want the money back. I don’t give a shit about money—I just want you. I want you to forgive me, and I want us to start over.”

“It’s not that easy, is it?” I whisper.

“It is to me. I love you—no matter what. My first priority is you. I don’t want to be without you anymore. It’s not an option,” he says, misery etched on his face.

“Grayson,” I sigh.

“I fell in love with you after I found out the truth. I know you’re upset, but listen to me; London and I only had one night together. I wasn’t in love with her, or anything like that. I fell in love with you, Paris. I fell in love with you after I knew the truth.”

I think about what he’s saying. I get that he fell for me. He and London didn’t even talk to each other; they just had sex. Something about her must have drawn him back since he wanted more though. Am I overthinking this? He did tell me he loved me after he found out the truth, but it still hurts. I know he loves me. He hasn’t even looked twice at London in that way.

“What was going through your mind when you left?” I ask, needed to know this.

“I guess I was wondering if it would be easier to end things like that, than explain myself,” he says.

I’m not going to lie, that hurts. However I’m glad that he told me the truth. The truth can hurt but lies do more damage.

“I will give you time, if that’s what you need. But please don’t shut me out or stop me from seeing you. We can go slowly, build up the trust between us again. I’m fighting, Paris. I’m fucking fighting here, and I need you to fight with me,” he says, gripping the ends of his hair in frustration.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly parched. “Trust isn’t going to come easy.”

“I know, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Are you?” he asks, drawing me onto his lap and circling me in his arms. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you? It felt like I was missing a fucking limb or something. What have you done to me?”

I lay my head back on his shoulder. “Why does love hurt so much?”

“I guess anything worth something doesn’t come without a price,” he says into my neck, kissing me there. His hands wander lower.

“I thought we were taking it slow?” I admonish, gently slapping his hand away.

“Ouch,” he says, chuckling. “Slow it is. Guess I’ll be having a cold shower after this.”

I scoff. “Trying to guilt trip me, are you?”

He starts laughing, his head thrown back in abandonment. “No, babe. Let’s do this the right way. From the beginning. In fact, would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

I pretend to consider it. “I guess so,” I say with a straight face.

“You guess so, huh?” he repeats, tickling me under my ribs.

“No!” I gasp. “Don’t tickle me.”

He stops and turns my face to the side, drawing my lips in a scorching hot kiss. His soft lips demonstrate exactly what I’ve been missing out on, his tongue demanding as it plays with mine. When he pulls away from me, I’m more than willing to screw going slow and to take things straight back to the bedroom. I tell him so. He laughs at me, shaking his head no, but his eyes say something completely different. His eyes are dark, lids at half-mast and giving away how much he wants me. So does his hardness. I stand up and offer him my hand.

“Babe,” he says, lip twitching.

“What?” I ask innocently, batting my eyelashes.

“You just want me because now I’m unattainable,” he says in a mock high pitch voice.

My body shakes with silent laughter. Damn, it feels so good to laugh. “You’re never unattainable to me, Mr Mills.”

He raises a brow. “Is that so?” He runs his hand down the side of my body, touching over the side of my breast and down to my hip. My breath hitches, and a knowing smirk plays on the corners of his lips.

“I better take you home,” he mutters, smiling down at me.

“Or,” I say, dragging out the word.

“Or what?”

“Or you could take me into your room and put me to work,” I say, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

He groans. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He lifts me into his arms, and just when I’m about to cheer and think I’m winning, he carries me outside and to the car.

“Slow,” he says when he puts me down.

I sigh heavily and nod. Guess we’re taking things slow.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I methodically write down notes, hoping not to miss anything I need to know for exams. I’m stressed out to the max, wanting to do well and trying to balance work with some kind of social life as well. And by that I mean spending time with Grayson and Anaya. I see London enough at work, and to be honest, London in small doses is definitely the right way to go if you want to leave with your sanity. It’s been just over a week since Grayson and I decided to start over. We haven’t slept together yet. Although there have been times I wanted to give in, it’s good to take things a little slower and get to connect on a different level again. That doesn’t mean I’m not dying to get him naked—because trust me, I am.

“You do realise you’re the last one left in class,” he says, looking around. Amused eyes land back on me, waiting for my response.

“You’re here too,” I point out.

“Only because I’m waiting for you,” he says, bending down and grabbing my files and notebook to pack them away in my bag for me. “There you go. We can study some more when we get to my house.”

“I thought we were going to mine?” I ask, standing up and pushing the chair back in. Going to my house is usually a little safer, because Anaya is there sometimes, or London will invite herself over. That way we aren’t alone, and it’s a tiny bit easier to avoid temptation. Stupid I know, but true all the same.

“Need to go to mine,” he says, not looking at me. Something is definitely up.

“Why?” I demand.

He grimaces. “I don’t know why. I got this message,” he says, lifting his phone and showing it to me.

London: Take Paris somewhere else after class. Don’t bring her back to her apartment just yet please! It’s important.

My jaw falls open. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he says, taking my hand in his. “I was torn between not wanting to upset you and knowing that if I didn’t tell you the truth you would kill me.”

“You know we have to go there and see what’s going on now, right?” I say, marching out of the room.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Grayson mutters from behind me. I turn and give him a look, which makes him shut his mouth. We park his car and run up to my apartment. I can hear London yelling from out here. I walk inside; the front door’s been left unlocked, and storm into the kitchen where I can hear all the commotion. I freeze in my tracks when I see my brother, Brody, standing there looking back at me.

London’s blue eyes narrow on Grayson. “One thing I asked you to do!” she snaps.

“Don’t yell at him! We’re trying a new thing where we’re completely honest with each other,” I say, my eyes not leaving Brody.

“I get that! But come on, Paris, do you really want to see him?” she asks, looking worried. For the first time in London’s life, she was trying to protect me. I’m speechless. Grayson puts his hand on my lower back, a sign of silent support. I’m grateful and flash him a look that tells him so.

“What are you doing here, Brody?” I ask him. He looks the same, short blond hair, familiar blue eyes and a tall, lanky build.

“I wanted to see how you are,” he says solemnly. “London mentioned she was here when I rang her last week, and I wanted to see you both. I’m so glad you’re both together now.”

My brow furrows, wondering why the change of heart. “You hate me,” I say, the words hurting me even to say.

He shakes his head furiously. “I hated what you were doing. Come on Paris, stripping? Mum and Dad must have been tossing in their grave.” He pauses. “Is this your boyfriend?”

I puff out a breath. “Yes, Brody, this is Grayson. Grayson, this is my brother.” Grayson gives him a chin lift, not saying anything else. I know he’s angry. I can tell by the tension pouring out of his body and his rigid stance. He knows what Brody did to me, and how much it killed me.

“I didn’t know London was in debt, Paris. I didn’t know that’s why you were…” he trails off.

“Where’s Elizabeth?” I ask, referring to his she-devil wife.

“I filed for divorce. It took me some time, but I finally saw her for who she really is,” he says, looking down.

“A fucking psychotic bitch?” London adds, grinning.

Brody looks tired. Tired and weary. I shouldn’t care, but I do. “I’m sorry,” Brody says, “Both of you.” He looks between London and me. “You’re welcome to come home any time. That house is yours too,” he says, giving me a small smile.

“It’s your house Brody. You paid for everything,” I mumble. “Look, thanks for coming by and putting in the effort. I’m not going to lie—what you did hurt me a lot. You chose your wife over me and judged me instead of being there for me when I needed you the most.”

He drops his head. “I know. I fucked up.”

“I know you took care of us when we were younger, and I appreciate what you sacrificed for us—you were only young yourself,” I admit, trying to see it from his point of view.

London rolls her eyes. “You’re too nice, Paris! He chose pussy over his blood.”

“London!” I admonish, my voice coming out choked at her colourful choice of words.

“I’m sorry,” Brody repeats, looking genuinely remorseful. He looks at Grayson. “London tells me you’ve been looking after the two of them. I can’t thank you enough for doing what I should have.”

“I’ll always look after them,” Grayson says in a deep rumble. “I don’t care for what you did to Paris, especially because she needed you. But it did bring her to me,” he says, flashing me his dimples.

I slap his arm. “What?” he asks, lip twitching.

“Where are you staying?” I ask my brother.

“Got a hotel for two nights, and then I’m going back home. Only got three days off work,” he says.

“Will you stay for dinner?” I ask. Everyone in the room stares at me. They may think I’m a pushover, but I don’t want to live my life with anger and resentment. I want to forgive Brody. For many reasons, but mainly because he took care of me growing up. He brushed my hair; he wiped my tears and got our aunty off our backs. Sure, he was an ass, but I don’t want to hold that against him forever.

“I’d love to,” he says, his eyes filling with unshed tears.

I smile at him, and he gives me a shaky smile back.

It’s easy to give in to hate.

But sometimes, there is strength in forgiveness.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Guess what!” London squeals as she walks into my house.

“What?” I ask, closing the book I was reading.

“I bought myself something. I earned it all myself and I’m very proud of it,” she says, clapping her hands together.

“What did you buy?” I ask her.

“A car!” she yells.

I wince at her loudness. “You bought a car?”

“Yeah, come out and see it,” she says, running to the front door. I get up and follow behind her. When I walk into the car park, I see her standing there hugging a piece-of-shit white car. It’s a bucket. Paint is peeling off, and I’m kind of surprised she managed to get it here without breaking down. But the look on her face.

Pride.

She did this all alone, without a guy buying it for her. And she’s proud. She should be.

“What do you think?” she asks.

A slow smile breaks out on my face. “I love it,” I say, laughing when she jumps up and down.

“If you ever need a ride, I can now offer you one, sis,” she beams, rubbing the boot of the car. I shake my head at her antics.

“Are you sure the car can take your weight and mine?” I tease.

She rolls her eyes. “Very funny.”

“I hope you took someone with you who knows something about cars.”

“I took Aiden. I don’t know if he actually knows anything about cars, but he made sure I didn’t get ripped off,” she says.

“Aiden, hey?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. Aiden deserves someone better than me. I think we both know that.”

“London--”

“I’m not good enough for someone like him yet, but I’m working on it,” she smirks. “Soon I’m going to have beauty, brains, and independence.”

“Brains?” I ask, laughing when I realise how it came out.

“I’m enrolling in TAFE. I’m going to study something fun,” she says, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Fun? Like what?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Tourism? Or maybe beauty? I haven’t decided yet.”

“That sounds great, London,” I say. “I’m sure you’re going to do amazing.”

“I think so too,” she replies. She has a look on her face, like she has just realised the world is her oyster.

“Proud of you, London,” I call out as I walk back to the front door. My mind roams to Brody, who left yesterday. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and I’m glad he decided to try to make things right.

Life is looking up for once.

* * *

That night, I jolt awake when I feel someone slide into bed with me. “What the f—”

“It’s me, babe,” Grayson whispers, spooning my back.

“What are you doing here?” I ask with a smile, snuggling back into him. His arms come around me.

“I missed you,” he grumbles, putting his cold feet on my legs.

“Hey! Your feet are bloody freezing!” I yelp.

He chuckles into my ear. “You love me and my cold feet.”

“This feels good.” Grayson hasn’t spent the night in so long, there is no way I’m taking this for granted. “Does this mean our taking it slow is over?” I whisper. His hand roams under my shirt at the same time he starts kissing me on my neck. “I’m taking that as a yes,” I announce, turning on my other side to face him and all but jumping on him. I straddle him, and then lean forward. He groans as I kiss the hell out of him, pouring all my want and need into him. He grips my ass with both hands, and starts grinding against me. He’s rock hard, which turns me on even more, knowing that he wants me as much as I want him. I tear my lips away from his to tug off my sleep shirt, leaving me in just my pink panties.

“Beautiful,” he says hoarsely, taking me in as I sit on top of him. I move to the side of him and pull my panties off, leaving me completely bare as he’s fully dressed. When he grasps my thighs and lifts me forward so I’m straddling his face, my face reddens. When his tongue peeps out as he tastes me, I forget all about my embarrassment and hold on to the headboard. He continues to pleasure me with his talented mouth, licking and sucking, paying special attention to my clit. Lost in the moment, I grind myself against his face, desperately seeking release. When he slides a finger inside me and sucks on my clit at the same time, it’s all over. I don’t even know what I call out as I climax. I just know that I’m loud. As the last wave passes, I slide off him, panting, and look down at him. I can see his smug smile in the moonlight. He brings his hand to his mouth and wipes away the glistening on his lips.

“That was hot,” I blurt out.

“Come here,” he growls, clearly wanting some attention.

I smile at myself, remembering what I overheard the girl say in the bathroom. Something about common courtesy? Well for me, it’s more than that. As I take him into my mouth, it’s more than just returning the favour. I want to please him. Before he’s about to come I pull away, and straddle him once more, this time sliding him inside me.

“Paris,” he moans, squeezing my hips and urging me on. I kiss him, tasting myself on his lips as I make love to him. He finishes with a curse, his body jerking into mine. I collapse against his hard chest and sigh in contentment.

“Love you, babe,” he says on a sigh.

“Love you too, Gray.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The next day at uni, I walk straight into someone I’d rather never see again. Jake. We’ve seen each other around, of course, but we haven’t said anything to each other. Until now.

“Paris, can I talk to you for a second?” he says, glancing around the hallway.

“Umm, okay,” I say, shifting on my feet and feeling awkward.

“I want to apologise. I didn’t tell anyone besides Grayson, I swear. No one knows.”

I look down at the ground. “Okay, well thanks. It’s definitely made my life here easier without people giving me shit,” I say.

“I’ve never seen Grayson so mad,” he says. “He won’t even talk to me now.”

“I’ll see if I can talk to him,” I say. After all, Jake didn’t actually do anything wrong. He saw me, and he reported it to Grayson and Grayson only. Really, he could have told the whole uni if he wanted to be an asshole, but he didn’t. On the other hand, I used to dance on a regular basis for his dad. If that isn’t awkward, I don’t know what is.

“I don’t know if that will work, but thanks for offering,” he says, waving bye as he goes on his way. I stand there for a moment before continuing to class.

* * *

Anaya, Paul, Leah, London, and I are all at Grayson’s house having a movie night. I invited Aiden, but he kindly declined. I don’t think he likes Grayson very much. Okay—I know he doesn’t.

“Whose choice is next?” I ask the group, after we finish mine, which was the first Harry Potter. I wanted to watch all the movies but was told hell no.

“Mine is!” London calls out, walking over to the DVD player and putting the disc in. When Mean Girls starts to play, I don’t know why I’m surprised. Grayson groans and buries his face in my hair.

“What?” London asks. “This movie is a classic.”

Paul grunts, shaking his head. “I’d rather watch Harry Potter again.”

“Ha! See,” I say, nodding my head in approval. “What did you choose, Paul?”

He wiggles his eyebrows and winks. “It’s a secret.”

“It better not be porn,” London mutters, causing Anaya to erupt in a fit of giggles.

“Do you want some more popcorn?” Grayson asks, ever the attentive boyfriend.

“Yes please.”

Anaya slaps Paul on the back of his head. “Ouch! What the hell did I do?” he complains, rubbing his head.

“You didn’t ask me if I wanted anything! I had to go get my own drink,” she says, scowling.

“Shit, woman, you have hands. I don’t have to do everything for you,” he says, now looking amused.

“You could be a gentleman,” she says. “Try it sometime and you may get rewarded.”

His eyebrows rise. “If I got rewarded any more, my dick would fall off.”

Anaya starts laughing again, and London gives me a look that clearly says, ‘your friends are crazy.’

Grayson comes back with popcorn and a drink for me, smirking at Anaya and Paul’s antics. The two of them always do this whenever they get together, but I know they don’t take anything to heart, because two seconds later, their tongues are down each other’s throats.

“Thanks,” I say, snuggling back into him as he sits next to me and possessively wraps an arm around me.

I fall asleep through Grayson’s choice, Lord of the Rings. He carries me to bed and tucks me in, sliding in beside me. The others continue to watch the movies, while Grayson holds me in his arms and whispers ‘goodnight’ before falling asleep.

* * *

“Good morning to you too,” I say through a smile. Grayson draws my lips into another soft kiss.

“Mornin’ beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.

“What are your plans for the day?” I ask, placing my lips on his chest.

“My mum wants me to drop by, so I guess I’ll head there before work. You?” he asks.

“I have to study for Monday’s exam. Then I have work at five.”

“Until eleven? I’ll pick you up when you’re done,” he says, bringing my palm to his mouth.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I say. Grayson puts on the TV while I head into the kitchen and grab us something to eat for breakfast. I’m about to take the plates into my room when I get a text from London.

London: Guess what I’m doing right now?

What? I reply.

London: The walk of shame!

A familiar path for you. I type back, laughing to myself.

London: Ha ha, very funny.

I walk into the room and hand Grayson his plate.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, grabbing the piece of toast and taking a huge bite.

My phone beeps again.

London: I need to be more careful who I sleep with just in case you end up dating them after.

I shake my head at her; the girl has no shame.

London: Too early to joke??!?!

“London?” Grayson asks, nodding at my phone.

“Yeah,” I reply, putting my phone down on the bed and sitting down. “She said she’s doing the walk of shame. I wonder if she slept with Aiden.”

Grayson stills. “Would that bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?” I ask, even though it kind of does. Not because I have any feelings for Aiden, at least not in that way. I care about him a lot as a friend, like a big brother. I don’t want him to get hurt, because he really is one of the best men I’ve ever met in my life.

Grayson shrugs and dusts the crumbs off his fingers. “I don’t know. I know the two of you are close.”

I nod slowly. “We are. He’s a good friend.”

“As long as that’s all he wants to be,” he replies in a cautious tone. I stare at him, lying on his white bed sheets in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts.

“Of course that’s all he wants to be. Besides, everyone knows how crazy I am about you.”

His dimples let me know he likes that comment. “They better.”

“So…” I begin. “You and Jake aren’t friends anymore?”

He cuts his eyes to me, his face losing any of its joy.

“Babe, he didn’t even tell anyone. He could have made my life a living hell if he wanted to,” I say.

Grayson grunts. “Yeah, then he would have got his ass kicked by me, and he knows it. Trust me it wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart.”

“Fine, but I don’t know, he spoke to me and he looked sad.”

He sits up straighter. “He spoke to you?” he asks, his voice low.

“Yeah, just for a minute or so…”

“Looks like he and I will be having another talk,” he says, cracking his knuckles.

“Oh, come on, Gray,” I snap, not wanting him to get into another fight over me. It’s in the past, and I want to leave it there. Time to look forward now. “Don’t start shit for no reason.”

He makes a non-committal noise and then takes me in his arms. “I won’t let anyone talk badly about you.”

“He didn’t,” I say, but he cuts me off with a kiss.

“Open your mouth,” he whispers against my lips.

“No, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet!” I say, my face going red.

He grins. “I don’t care.”

By the minty taste of him, I can tell he did brush his teeth, probably when I was making breakfast. I squirm out of his hold. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“Shower.” And to brush my teeth.

“I’m coming,” he calls out as I leave the room.

I wouldn’t expect any less.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I knew it would happen. Of course, my luck isn’t that great, but never once did I think it would happen at a moment like this. At Grayson’s dad’s business function.

“S-snow,” the man stutters, staring at my breasts. “I’m a huge fan.”

I drop the chocolate brownie square back onto my plate and look around awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” is apparently all I can come up with. More and more lies.

“Oh,” he says, checking me out. “Are you sure? You look exactly like her…”

I look around for Grayson, seeing him talking to an older man. He glances over at me, and excuses himself from the conversation the minute he sees the look on my face.

“Paris?” he asks, coming to my side. “Is everything okay?”

The man clears his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, my mistake,” he says, walking away as fast as his legs can take him.

“What was that about?” he asks, taking my hand in his.

“He came to tell me he was a huge fan,” I whisper-yell, panicked.

Grayson grits his teeth. “Don’t worry. There’s no proof of anything.”

“Do you know him?” I ask, looking around.

“Yeah, he works at the hotel. Don’t worry; I’ll have a chat with him. I’ll tell him it’s really your sister that’s the dancer, and you’d like to keep it hush hush,” he says, smirking at his idea.

I gasp. “You can’t say that.” Although, I doubt London would care.

“I can and I will. Don’t stress, babe,” he says, giving me a possessive look. The look says ‘I will take care of everything’. I puff out a breath, nodding once. “My dad wants me to talk to one of his business associates. Do you want to come with me?”

“No, I’ll wait here,” I say. Where the food is.

“Okay, just give me a few minutes. Leah should be here any second,” he says, kissing me once then going off to talk to whomever. I stand up and make sure my slinky black dress is down at the back, about to go to the bathroom when Grayson’s mother walks up to me.

“Hello, Paris, you look bored,” she says, taking a seat next to me.

“Ohh, I—umm,” I stutter, having no idea what to say to this woman. She’s so very intimidating.

She smiles. “I get bored too, trust me. You get used to it though. I usually just make small talk with the wives.”

“Right,” I say, smiling shyly.

“I’ve never seen my son so in love,” she says, tilting her head. “Please don’t hurt him.”

My eyes widen. “I wouldn’t do that.” Not intentionally.

“Leave the poor girl alone, Mum,” Leah says from behind me. I feel relief at her arrival.

“We’re just chatting,” her mum says. “Where have you been?”

“Just running late. I don’t know why I have to be here. Grayson is taking over the business, not me,” she says.

“We’re here to support your father.”

“I’m going to the bar. Come on, Paris,” she says, her eyes begging me to join her.

“Is everything okay?” I ask her as we order our drinks. She’s wearing a short yellow dress that looks stunning on her and clings to her body like a second skin.

“I know about you, you know,” she says, stirring her drink with the straw.

“I’m sorry?” I ask, not sure I heard her right.

She takes a huge gulp of her drink. “Jake and I are together. I was going to break it to Grayson,” she says, grimacing. “Then Jake went and opened his stupid mouth about you. Now Grayson hates him and no way in hell is he going to be okay with us being together.”

Information overload. “I thought Jake didn’t tell anyone?” I ask dryly, taking a sip of my own drink.

“He didn’t, but he had to explain to me why all of a sudden Grayson hates him. And why Grayson beat the shit out of him,” she says.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to happen. I tried to talk to Gray about Jake…”

“It’s not your fault, Paris. Jake shouldn’t have said anything. And for the record, I’m not judging you. I’m sure you had your reasons. You’re a good person.”

I sigh heavily. “Thanks,” I say a little awkwardly. “I can try to talk to Grayson again.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem; it’s mine. I have a few tricks up my sleeve to deal with my baby brother,” she says, an evil glint in her eye.

I laugh. “I always forget that you’re older.”

“That’s because he’s so tall, and I’m a shrimp,” she says, smiling back at me. “And because he’s so bossy and demanding.”

We both look to the man in question, talking to two other men. He’s wearing a perfectly fitted suit, which I can’t wait to pull off him.

“You have it bad,” Leah says, shaking her head. “You’re good for him though. I’m glad Dylan’s out of the picture now.”

My good mood plummets a little at the mention of her name. “Is she though? Shouldn’t she be here tonight considering your parents are friends?”

Leah puts her now empty glass down and signals the bartender for another. “Her dad is here. I don’t know where she is. I’m not exactly her favourite person anymore. And don’t you start, that isn’t your fault either,” she says before I can apologise for that too.

“Sorry about that, babe,” Grayson says as he approaches. He wraps an arm around me and looks at his sister.

“Where are your clothes?” he asks, scowling down at her. She looks down at her dress and raises an eyebrow at him.

“What’s wrong with my dress?”

“How about its lack of material?” he asks, kissing me on the top of my head.

Leah smirks, her red lips pulling together. “As if Paris’ dress is any more covering.”

“Yeah but Paris is sexy, you’re…”

Leah gasps. “I’m what?” she growls, narrowing her eyes.

“My sister,” he says simply, staring at her dress like it’s offensive.

I elbow him. “Leave her alone. She looks beautiful.”

“Thank you, Paris,” Leah says, sending her brother a deathly stare.

“I didn’t mean…” Grayson starts, realising what he said. “Of course you’re beautiful, Leah.”

“Yeah, just scantily clad,” she mutters, sculling her drink.

“I hope you aren’t driving home,” Grayson says, watching her.

“No, you can drop me off on the way,” she replies.

“Okay,” he says, still studying her.

“Now that you’re here to keep Paris company, I’m going to go and socialise,” she says, standing up and storming off.

“What’s going on with her?” he asks, biting his lip.

“Besides your eloquent comments?” I ask him, hiding a smile. “Where the hell did all your charm go?”

His tightened lips turn into a smile. “Used it all up on you, I think. Now there’s none left for the other women in my life.”

“Other women, hey?” I ask, purposely misunderstanding him.

He puts his hands up. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, please explain it to me.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? My pain in the ass,” he says, eyes dancing with humour. “What are you drinking?”

“Vodka. You want some?” I ask, offering him the glass.

He leans down and kisses me, licking my lips. “No thanks. I have to drive.”

“You can have one sip,” I say.

“I have precious cargo I need to get home safely,” he says, rubbing my palm with his thumb. He always likes to touch me, even if it’s just a small touch like this.

“You can go socialise,” I tell him. “I’m fine alone.”

“I’m done.”

“Does that mean we get to leave?” I ask, trying not to look overly hopeful.

He chuckles. “Almost, babe. Come on, let’s go find Leah. I’m going to compliment her on something to make up for before. Any ideas?”

I know a way he can make it up to her. Let her be with Jake without going bat-shit crazy.

“Maybe let her know you love and support her no matter what,” I suggest, playing it off with a shrug.

He sees right through me. “What do you know that I don’t?”

I sigh and lean against him. “I really like your sister.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he says, coming closer and holding my hips. “Makes things a lot easier for me.”

I look around. “Your dad’s coming over.”

“Maybe we can sneak away?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m sorry I had to drag you to this thing.”

“It’s part of your dad’s business world; I get it,” I reply. “I’d rather be here with you than sitting at home doing nothing except missing you. And I got to wear a pretty dress.”

“The dress is killing me,” he says, running his hand up my thigh so my dress rides up a little.

“Grayson,” I whisper, pushing his hand away.

“Son, how did everything go?” his dad asks. I look up at him, trying to act casual.

“Good,” Grayson replies. “I spoke to a few of your associates like you said, getting more involved.”

He nods at Grayson then turns to me with a smile before departing. I can feel Grayson staring at me so I look at him. “Babe,” he says, lip twitching.

“What?”

“Are you scared of my dad?” he asks, body shaking with silent laughter.

I narrow my eyes. “Not funny.”

“It is,” he replies.

“It’s not. I’m an ex-stripper. One day they are going to find out, and they are going to hate me and try to convince you to find someone better. So yes, I am a little scared of both of them.”

All the humour disappears from his face. “Babe, I don’t care what they think. It only matters what I think. Yes, I love my family, but they don’t control my life.”

“Their opinion matters to you, though,” I say, looking down. He lifts my head up gently, cradling my face.

“I love you. That’s not going to change no matter what anyone says about you. I know the real you—not them. I love everything about you.”

“Everything?” I ask, doubt lacing my tone.

“Yes, because I want you just as you are. I don’t want you to change. Even when you eat chocolate and jam together at breakfast sometimes. I think it’s gross, but it’s you, so that’s okay.”

I laugh out loud at that comment. “You’re crazy sometimes.”

“Crazy about you. Now come on, let’s find Leah and make sure you get something to eat,” he says, helping me down from the chair.

“Grayson?”

“Yeah?” he replies, giving me all his attention. I love that.

“I fucking love you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Exams come and go before I know it. Now, I’m on break, and am picking up more hours at the bar. The rest of my time is spent with Grayson. A tea towel slaps my ass, pulling me away from my thoughts.

“Hey, quit daydreaming and go stock the fridge,” Aiden says.

“Ouch,” I say, rubbing my butt. London chooses to walk in just as I say that.

Her mouth drops open. “You freaky girl, I didn’t know you had it in you!” Then she bursts out laughing at her own comment. “Get it?” She laughs some more, doubling over now. Aiden starts chuckling along with her.

I shake my head at the two of them. “You guys are fucking insane.”

“Hey, I’m not judging you,” she says through more laughter. “Grayson is a lucky man, isn’t he?”

I cover my hands over my face and start giggling. These people are nuts! Aiden looks at me with a now straight face. “I don’t care what activities you got up to last night; you need to stock the fridge.”

“Oh, my God!” I squeal, walking to the fridge. I can hear London’s howling laughter echoing behind me, like a freaking hyena. I stock the damn fridge, taking my own cool time. When I walk back out the front, Aiden and London are standing close to each other. They move apart as soon as they notice me.

“No way,” I say, drawing out each word.

“What?” London asks innocently. She even bats her eyelashes at me. Yeah—because that’s going to work.

“Oh, nothing,” I say in a saccharine sweet tone. I look from London to Aiden, and back again, letting them know that I saw it, but not saying anything.

Aiden caves, crossing his arms against his chest. “I’m taking her on a date.”

London looks at him, narrowing her eyes. “You wouldn’t hold up well under torture, would you?”

I laugh at that. “Why the secrecy?”

London looks at me, her eyes apologetic. “If it didn’t work out, I didn’t want to hear any ‘I told you so’. And I didn’t know what your reaction would be. I’ve already screwed you over. With the debt, and then with Grayson, even though I didn’t know at the time. I didn’t want to hurt you again. But at the same time, I kind of really like Aiden.”

I suck in my bottom lip, thinking. “It’s your business. Just please don’t hurt each other. I don’t want to get involved. London, you’re my sister, and Aiden, I care about you a lot.”

“Group hug?” London asks. Why the hell not? We all walk in and hug each other.

“I want the two of you to be happy,” I say, snuggling into Aiden’s chest. “Aiden, I hope you know what you’re getting into with London. She’s high maintenance,” I say with a straight face. London pinches me.

“And London, I hope you know what you’re getting into with Aiden. He used to be in a boy band.”

Aiden gasps and pulls away from the group hug. “I didn’t know you knew that!”

I grin, and wiggle my eyebrows. “I didn’t know. Grayson told me.” I look at London, to see her not looking surprised by this information, so Aiden must have already told her. I think that says a lot about their relationship, and I wish them both nothing but happiness.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks. He doesn’t look angry at all, just curious.

I lift my shoulders in a casual shrug. “I waited for you to say something, but you didn’t. So I just stayed quiet.”

“Until now,” he says, grabbing me and messing up my hair.

“Hey!” I yell, pushing at his abs.

A throat is cleared. We all freeze. I turn my head and look at a very unamused Grayson. Aiden lets me go straight away, and London as usual, finds the whole thing hilarious.

“Now who’s going after whose man?” London says. “Tsk tsk, Paris, we’re family!” She fist pumps for added effect, the drama queen.

I lean back against the table. “Do you really want Aiden to have a black eye for your first date?”

London takes that as a challenge. “Oh, please. My penis will take on your penis any day.”

“Is that how you think of him? As your walking penis?” I burst out laughing. Grayson, who must have had enough of the show, picks me up and carries me to the car.

I can’t stop laughing the whole way home.

* * *

The next night, Grayson and I are out having dinner when I see a familiar face. I quickly look away, hoping he didn’t see me. From the corner of my eye, I see him walking over.

Fuck.

“Paris?” he asks, staring down at me with a look of wonder on his face.

“Mark, hi,” I say, not sure if I should stand up and shake his hand or what? What are the appropriate mannerisms for meeting an ex of yours who you don’t really like? Or that you’d hoped to never see again? I look at Grayson who is staring at Mark with a look of distaste, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Hi, I’m Grayson. Her boyfriend,” Grayson says, standing up to shake Mark’s hand. Apparently, he has more manners than I do. Mark greets him, but then goes back to staring at me.

“You look amazing, Paris,” Mark says. I hear Grayson make a sound from deep in his throat. I hope Mark heeds the warning.

“What are you doing in Perth?” I ask, trying to act casual.

“Here on business. You live here now?” he asks.

“I do. Was nice seeing you again,” I lie, hoping he takes it for what it is—a dismissal. Instead, he puts his hands on my shoulders.

“Do you remember when--”

Grayson cuts him off. “If you want to live, take your fucking hands off her.”

Mark removes his grubby hands instantly. “Calm down, man. I was her first boyfriend. I think I deserve to be able to speak to her.” He looks at me. “You let him control you like this?”

Grayson stands up as soon as the words ‘first boyfriend’ leaves Mark’s lips. “Gray,” I say, getting up and walking to his side. “Ignore him, let’s go home.”

“Did he hurt you?” he asks, glaring at Mark. His fists are clenched, and I know he’s dying to hit him.

“No, he was just an asshole. He didn’t hurt me. Now let’s go,” I say, pulling him toward the exit. We walk outside, having already paid, and head toward the car. Mark, like the brainless idiot he is, follows us.

“I still remember the freckle she has on her right breast,” he says, grinning. He clearly has a death wish. Grayson’s body goes still at his comment.

“Babe, get in the car,” he grits out, making sure I’m safely in there before he walks up to Mark. They exchange words, then Grayson punches him in the stomach, and then in the face. Then he walks away like he does this every day. He gets into the car and drives off, his fists clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel. The air in the car is so tense I can barely breathe.

“You let him see you,” he grates out, eyes straight ahead on the road. “Touch you.”

“That’s as far as it got,” I say, wondering what the hell the big deal was. So he saw me topless, big deal. Second base is as far as he got, and I gave everything else to Grayson.

“The thought of him touching you… I want to go back and kick his ass some more,” he says, a muscle ticking furiously in his jaw.

“It’s in the past, Gray, or does that past shit only work when it’s your past we’re fighting over,” I reply, feeling annoyed.

“Babe,” he says, warning clear. He doesn’t want me to push him. Well, too fucking bad.

“Don’t you babe me. I was a stripper, or have you forgotten? Many men have seen my body, but you’re the only one who has touched it, and been inside it. You need to stop overreacting.”

He sighs drearily, relaxing his shoulders. “I need to be inside you. Right now.”

I roll my eyes at his macho bullshit. Leaning over, I run my hand across his jeans, where I can feel him already hard and straining against the material. “Wow, not kidding, huh?”

“Paris,” he says in a low hoarse voice.

“How far away from home are we?” I ask, licking my lips.

“Ten minutes,” he replies through clenched teeth. I sit back in my chair and slide my panties down as gracefully as I can muster. “Fuck.”

I undo his jeans, pulling his cock out as soon as we pull into the driveway. Just as the garage door closes behind us, I straddle him. He pushes the seat back, and then guides himself into me, lifting his hips and thrusting hard. I moan. His hands squeeze my ass, controlling my movements. Suddenly, my dress is pulled over my head, and my bra is undone. Fully bare, I ride him hard and fast.

“These are mine,” he growls as he rubs his thumbs over my nipples. He sucks one into his mouth and I grind down on him even harder. “This is mine,” he says as his hands move to my ass. “And this,” he says, lifting his hips up with one long thrust, “is mine.”

“All yours,” I tell him just before I come.

“That’s it,” he says, “come all over me.”

He joins me shortly after.

Still connected, we stare at each other. “I love you,” he says, giving me a long open-mouthed kiss.

“I love you more,” I pant out as he pulls his mouth away.

“Not possible, babe. Not possible.”

I smile against his lips.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I’m wiping down the counter at work, when Dylan walks in. Things with her have been quiet, even though we see each other around here and there. As she comes and stands in front of me, I have a feeling that’s about to change.

“So, Grayson’s leaving tonight,” she says, with a smug tilt to her lips.

“What do you want, Dylan?” I ask, putting down the cloth and staring at her.

“Just wanted to tell you that I’ll keep a good eye on him while we’re in Sydney,” she says, watching me for a reaction. Grayson is going to Sydney for a few days with his parents. He didn’t mention Dylan was going too.

I control my expression, hiding my hurt. “Desperation isn’t a good look.”

“Don’t care what you think. Three nights with Grayson. He always liked this thing I do with my…”

“Get out,” I demand, my tone icy.

“You’re worried,” she says, smiling. “Good, you should be.” With that parting shot, she leaves.

Later that night, Grayson calls me. I don’t answer. An hour later, he comes over. He has his own key, so he lets himself in and walks into my room where I’m lying on top of the sheets.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I was worried,” he says, storming in. “Is everything okay?”

“Besides the fact my boyfriend is going away with his ex-girlfriend and didn’t have the decency to tell me?” I snap, staring up at him with anger and hurt in my eyes.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, sitting down on the bed.

“Dylan came to my work today and said she’s going with you to Sydney and how I should be worried…”

“And you believed her?” he asks, looking hurt.

“Is she going with you?” I ask.

“I haven’t heard anything about it. If her dad is going, maybe she will tag along. But what does it matter? I would never cheat on you, and I thought you knew that,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. Way to turn this around.

“I don’t want her going with you,” I say in a small voice.

“Babe. Fuck Dylan. I don’t care about her, and I’m never going to touch her again. You have nothing to worry about, and I wish you would believe me,” he says, laying his head on my stomach. I thread my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. “I asked you if you wanted to come with me. You think I want to leave your side? I don’t.”

“I have to work,” I argue.

“Aiden will give you a couple days off, I’m sure of it,” he says, sitting up and pulling out his phone. “I’ll ask him.”

“You have Aiden’s number?” I ask, my eyes flaring in surprise.

“Yeah, well, he’s with London now. So,” he says shrugging.

“So what?”

“So he’s not a threat,” he says with straight out honesty.

I give him a look, showing him my unhappiness at that comment. “Chicks love guys in bands,” he continues.

“He’s not in one anymore,” I point out.

“Not the point,” he says, now looking amused.

“Women love rich hotel heirs as well,” I say, just to annoy him. “Especially ones who look like you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he jokes, pulling the phone away from his ear. “He’s not answering so I’ll send him a message.” He types out the message then puts his phone away. Aiden replies a few minutes later.

“Go pack your bags, babe,” he says, a slow spreading smile transforming his features.

Looks like I’m going to Sydney.

* * *

The flight to Sydney is awkward, to say the least. First of all, Grayson bought us first class tickets, which is a whole new experience for me, and second, Grayson isn’t the only one to bring someone. Leah brought Jake. Grayson has been brooding ever since he laid eyes on Jake holding hands with his sister.

“When the fuck did that happen?” he asks me as we walk into our hotel room. “She’s been hiding that shit from me!”

“What’s the big deal? You used to be friends with him, so clearly he has some redeeming qualities,” I say, sitting down on the plush bed.

“You used to give lap dances to his dad!” he growls, putting his hands in his pockets.

“So, it’s not like I danced for Jake. He just saw some photos.”

He curses. “Don’t give me that visual, please.”

“All I’m saying is Leah knows I was a stripper. And she doesn’t hold it against me. She accepts me. I think you should do the same for her and Jake,” I say, hoping he understands what I’m trying to get at. No judgement. Just moving forward.

“Leah knows?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

“See? She didn’t even say anything. You’re lucky to have a sister like her,” I tell him as I lie back on the bed, feeling tired from the flight.

“Fuck. You’re right,” he says, his eyes softening as he looks at me. “You’re such a peacemaker, you know that?”

My lips tilt up. “Go and talk to them.”

“I will. Do you want anything?” he asks me, leaning over and giving me a closed mouth kiss.

“No, I’ll have a shower and wait for you.”

“Call room service if you’re hungry,” he says, kissing my nose and then leaving the room. I take my time in the shower, enjoying the massive modern bathroom. Afterwards, I jump on the bed and fall asleep.

* * *

The next night, we’re all out clubbing. Leah and Jake are grinding on the dance floor, and Grayson looks like he wants to kill someone. Dylan is here with us too, which makes me want to kill someone. I down my tequila shot, not even bothering with the salt and lime.

“You might want to slow down, babe,” Grayson says, frowning at all the empty shot glasses in front of me. I look at them.

“These aren’t all mine,” I say, staring at the seven glasses.

Grayson scowls, stepping closer to me. “Yes, babe, they are.”

“No, they are all of ours!” Really? Grayson tilts his head back and rubs the back of his neck in frustration.

“All yours,” he says.

I shrug. “I’m on holiday.”

He sips his drink and shakes his head at me. “You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

“Cute?” Surely, he can find a better adjective.

His lip twitches. Jake and Leah walk back up to us, sweaty from all the dancing. “Want to dance?” I ask Grayson, feeling buzzed. The room spins a little, but not enough that I’m disoriented. Just the perfect amount. He stands and walks me to the dance floor.

“Do not bend over in that dress,” he growls into my ear, his hands possessively on my ass. My dress is a little short tonight, but it makes up for it by not showing off any cleavage. It’s royal blue body con dress, something I have had for a while but never worn. It fits like a glove. Dylan comes up to us and asks Grayson for a dance.

“Just one dance,” she says, “for old time’s sake.”

Grayson shakes his head no. I’m glad he’s not falling for her nostalgic bullshit. After he rejects her, she goes and finds a new victim. I couldn’t be happier.

“I didn’t get to thank you for talking to Grayson,” Leah says to me when I return to the bar.

“How did you know I spoke to him?” I ask, sucking on an ice cube.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, please, it had you written all over it.”

I try to hide my smile. “He loves you. I just tried to make him see the big picture. You know he just wants to protect you.”

“I know,” she says, smiling down at her drink. “He’s a good brother.”

I nod in agreement. He’s a good man in general.

“Well, I’m going to go to my room and have wild sex with Jake. See you tomorrow,” she says, kissing my cheek and going to find her man. Thanks goodness Grayson didn’t hear that.

“Time to go, babe,” Grayson says as Leah tells him they are leaving.

“Okay. Where’s Dylan?” I ask, looking around for her. I may dislike her but we can’t just leave her here alone.

“She said she’ll come back to her room later,” he says. I shrug and put my hand in his, letting him lead me back to the room. “Are you tired?” he asks as we open the room door.

“Depends on what you have in mind.”

In an instant, he lifts me up and pushes me against the wall. “Get naked in the shower and wait for me.”

“Okay,” I manage to get out, my heart racing. He licks at my lips until I open them, then he kisses me hard, a preview for what’s to come.

“Adore you,” he says to me before he puts me down. I walk into the bathroom, strip down, and jump in the shower. Grayson comes in seconds later, and shows me just how much he adores me.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“When are you going to move in with me?” Grayson asks. It’s been a week since we returned from Sydney, and our relationship is stronger than ever. We aren’t perfect, of course, and we’re learning a lot as we go along, but we’re in it together. For the long run.

“Is that your way of asking me if I want to move in with you? Or telling me?”

He stares at the ceiling, lying on his back on his bed. “You’re practically here every day. And I love that. I want you to move in permanently,” he says, lifting his head to look at me.

“Don’t you think we’re moving a bit fast?” my head makes me ask. My heart knows what it wants to do. It wants me to go home, pack my shit up, and move in this very second.

He sits up fully. “Are you doubting us?” he asks, his voice low and worried.

“No, it’s not that,” I tell him, crawling onto the bed. “I just don’t want us to regret anything.”

“Paris,” he says. “Stop over thinking it, and just move in. Please.” It’s the please that gets me.

“Okay,” I say, my hand touching his cheek. The stubble there prickles my fingers. “Let’s do it. I’ll have to tell Anaya so she can get a new roomie.”

“I’ll sort it out,” he says, his eyes roaming my face. “You’ve made me a happy man.”

“I’m putting in money for rent, bills, and food, and that’s non-negotiable,” I tell him, my serious expression letting him know I mean business.

“I own the house; there is no rent. And I pay the bills. If you want to buy whatever for the house, then go ahead, but I’d rather you save your money,” he says, crossing his arms behind his head and studying me.

“You own this house?” I ask, eyes flaring.

“Babe, keep up,” he says, dimples flashing.

“I love your dimples,” I blurt out, staring at them.

His smile widens, his eyes crinkling. “I know you do. They’re like my secret weapon.”

“Really? I’d have thought your secret weapon would be further south,” I tease, my eyes darting to his crotch and back.

“Hey, I’m a man of many talents,” he brags, eyes twinkling.

I scoff, shaking my head. “That ego of yours…”

“I can refresh your memory if you’re in doubt,” he says, reaching out for me. I move back, out of his reach. “Playing hard to get, are we? Or maybe you want to be chased?”

I narrow my eyes on him, going deadly still. Then I jump off the bed and run as fast as I can. I only make it to the kitchen before he grabs me, and throws me over his shoulder caveman style. I pinch his ass, squirming. “I have short legs! That wasn’t fair!” I squeal.

“You don’t have short legs,” he replies, chuckling.

“Compared to you I do!” I grumble.

“Oomph,” comes out of my mouth as I’m dumped on the bed. “You jerk!”

He pins me to the bed, his shoulder shaking as he laughs at me. Asshole.

“I’m not moving in now,” I tell him, poking my tongue out.

He stops laughing. “A bit late to change your mind,” he says. He grabs his phone and types out a text, still pinning me with his weight.

“Who are you messaging?” I ask, trying to see the screen.

“Anaya. Told her you’re moving out. I’ll pay your rent until she finds another roommate.”

“You overbearing, egoistical—” He cuts off my rant with his mouth.

I move into this house the next week.

* * *

I yawn and walk to the front door wearing my leopard-print shorts and a white singlet top. I’m about to open it when I remember I’m not even wearing a bra. I eye the hall that leads back to my room, then the front door. Fuck it. I open the door and come face to face with Dylan.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, scowling at her.

She smiles unpleasantly. “Is Grayson here?” she asks, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other.

“Yeah, can you hold on a second?” I ask her, not waiting for her reply. I storm back into our bedroom and stare down at a sleeping Grayson.

“Gray,” I say, shaking his shoulder. His eyes open, and then a smile forms on his lips. “Dylan’s here.” That gets his attention.

“Dylan?” he asks, brows drawing together. “What the fuck?”

“She’s at the door,” I say, shrugging. I have no idea what’s going on, or why she’s here. He gets out of bed and throws on a pair of jeans. “And a shirt.”

He stops at the door, turns back and grabs a white t-shirt, sliding it over his head. I follow him as he walks to the door.

“What are you doing here?” he asks her. Instead of answering, she runs to him, and wraps her arms around him. He stiffens, shooting me an apologetic look.

“I had a fight with Dad. I have nowhere else to go, so I was hoping I could stay here. You always said if I needed a place to crash…”

I see him mouth the word fuck. “That was before, Dylan, and you know it. Paris lives with me now, so I’m going to have to retract that offer.”

I tap my foot, watching the scene unfold. “You’re going to turn me away because of her?”

“Yes,” Grayson says. “I love her. You need to find somewhere else to stay if you’re having issues with your parents.”

She takes a step back from him and turns her head to stare at me. “I have nowhere else to go. I thought I could always crash here if I needed to, because that’s what you told me!”

“Go stay at Leah’s, or my parents then,” Grayson says, looking frustrated. He keeps sending me little worried glances.

“She knows we’ve fucked before, Grayson. I was your first after all,” she says, looking at me as she says it. Riiiigghhht. Well, I’m fucking done. As I turn away, I hear Grayson calling out my name. I ignore him and go back into our room and flop on the bed. It’s always something, isn’t it? I rub my forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. I can hear Grayson and her arguing at the front door, but I try to block them out. She was his first? I don’t want to be jealous, I don’t. It doesn’t change the fact that I am.

He enters the room a few minutes later, his face drawn, and his head down. “I’m so sorry she came here, babe. Please don’t be mad. I told her she can’t stay here.” He moves closer to me. “She’s just starting shit. Don’t let her win,” he says, sitting next to me and putting his hand on my hip.

“She’s such a bitch,” I growl.

Grayson exhales, looking down at me. “I know. She just wanted to hurt you. Fuck her.”

“Well, she succeeded,” I say.

“Paris…”

“She was your first! She will always have that piece of you. I get it—I do. I don’t have to like having it shoved in my face, though,” I say, getting up and heading to the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and lean against it. Sliding down to the floor, I sit there. Thinking. He knocks a few times and gently says my name. He pleads with me. I ignore him. I start to feel a little nauseous after a while. Grayson must still be on the other side of the door, because when I start to throw up, the knocks get louder.

“Open the door, Paris!” he growls.

“I’m fine!” I call out.

“No, you’re not. Please just open the door!”

I have a quick shower, brush my teeth then exit the bathroom. Grayson is sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. He looks up as soon as he hears me. “Are you ill?”

“I’m fine,” I say, ignoring his worried stares. I do math in my head. When was my last period? Did I skip any pills? Sometimes, I would forget one day, but take two the next day to make up for it. I was told that was okay by London, and she should know! I look at the time and curse. "I need to get to class.” And then I have a shift at work.

“Can we talk before you leave?” he asks, standing up.

“No, I don’t feel like talking right now,” I say, getting dressed in jeans and an off the shoulder black top.

“Don’t do this...”

“We can talk later tonight, okay? I just want to have some time right now,” I explain.

He agrees but doesn’t look too happy about it.

Chapter Thirty

“What’s up your butt?” London asks, looking concerned.

“What’s with you and butts?” I ask dryly, throwing some of the empty beer bottles in the recycling bin.

“Don’t change the subject,” she says.

“Fine,” I huff. “Grayson and I had a fight. And then I threw up. And my period is late.”

Her blue eyes widen almost hysterically. “Information overload. Let’s go with the biggest shocker—pregnant?”

“I don’t know for sure,” I sigh, plopping down on one of the stools. The place is dead.

“I’m going to be an aunty? I’m too young to be an aunty!” she says dramatically.

“How did I know you were going to make this about you?” I ask her, rolling my eyes.

She ignores my comment. “Did you tell Grayson?”

“No, there’s no point saying anything until I know,” I say, laying my forehead against the cool bar counter.

“The fact that you’re stressing about it… He should be right there with you, sis. What did you guys fight over?” she asks, blowing a bubble with her chewing gum.

“His ex-girlfriend showed up at the house. I got jealous and upset,” I say. “You can imagine the rest.” Aiden walks out and sees me lying face down on his bar, feeling sorry for myself.

“What’s wrong, Paris?” he asks, immediately coming over to me. “What did you do now, London?” he asks, his tone laced with humour.

“Me! I did nothing. Trust me, I don’t have the equipment for it,” she says. I lift my head up and look at him.

“I don’t think you want to know, trust me.”

“Try me,” he says, taking the seat next to me.

“Fought with Gray. Threw up. Didn’t get my period this month,” I say, summing it all up once more.

He’s silent for a moment. “We’ll get through it, whatever it is.”

I put my hand on my stomach. “A stripper getting pregnant at my age—I’m a walking stereotype!”

“You don’t know for sure,” London pipes in. “Plus girls get pregnant much younger than that nowadays. Trust me”

I shoot her a look. “Not helping, London.”

“We’ll get a test on the way home. How about that?” she says.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” I say, forcing a smile.

“What’s family for, right? To be with you when you do stupid shit!” Her comment should make me angry, instead I start laughing. It’s one of those moments. The ones where you can either laugh or cry.

I choose to laugh.

* * *

“How do you pee on this without getting pee on your hand?” London asks, staring at the pregnancy test. We stopped at her house to do it, and I feel more relaxed than I would be at home. Probably because Grayson would be banging on the door and asking what’s wrong.

“Do you want to try one and see?” I ask her, biting my lip at the confused look on her face.

“Hurry up and do it. I’m dying here.”

“Get out. I’m not peeing in front of you,” I say, pushing her out of the door.

“Fine,” she pouts. I close the door and do my business. I walk out holding the stick, put it on the table and wash my hand. We stare at each other silently for a few moments, each of us looking down at the test but not studying it.

“Time yet?” she asks. I nod. We both lean our heads down at the same time, staring at the two pink lines on the test. Shit.

“Fuck your life,” I hear London mutter under her breath.

“Thanks for the support,” I snap, glaring at her. My phone starts ringing. Grayson.

“Good song choice,” London muses at my Katy Perry ringtone.

“Pay attention!” I growl. Instead, she starts singing the damn song. The phone rings out so I quickly send Grayson a message so he doesn’t worry.

With London, be home in ten mins. XxX

“What do I do?” I ask. “I’m going to do another test, see if it says the same thing.” I hear London mutter something about denial, but ignore her. I then realise I don’t need to pee anymore so I’ll have to wait. “Can you drop me home now?” I ask.

“Yeah, no problem,” she says, grabbing her keys. We open the front door to leave, when I see Grayson himself standing out the front leaning against the wall.

“Guess you won’t need that ride after all,” she says, kissing me on the cheek, waving to Grayson before walking inside and closing the door.

“You okay?” he asks, pushing off the wall.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?” I ask as we walk to the car.

“What am I doing here? I was worried about you. Have been all day. I thought you were running…”

“Just because of this morning?” I ask, surprised. I’m not going to get chased off by some random ex, even though it pissed me off. And hurt. A lot.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him. He opens the door for me to get in. I think about what to say to him the whole way home. He’s never even mentioned whether he likes children or not, so I have no idea what to expect from his reaction.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Paris?” he finally asks when we get home.

I bite my bottom lip. “We need to talk about something.”

He takes my hand and pulls me to our bedroom. His fingers tighten on mine before they let go, and he watches me with concern in his eyes. “I’m freaking out here, babe,” he says when I stay silent. He’s not the only one.

“There might be a slight possibility…” Okay, more than slight. “I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. Grayson stares at me for a few seconds, as if he didn’t understand what I said. He blinks. I wave my hands in front of his face. “Gray,” I say slowly.

“You’re pregnant?” he finally says, looking down at my flat stomach.

“Yeah, I mean, I think so. I did one test and it was positive, but they could be wrong I guess. I’ll have to go to the doctor’s tomorrow and see for sure,” I ramble on nervously.

“You’re on the pill though?” he says, making it sound like a question.

“Yes, I am, and I’ve been taking them as I always do,” I tell him. I wouldn’t do that to him. Besides, it’s not like I wanted to be a mother this young. I think back to our Sydney trip. The second night I got so drunk that I threw up—a lot. Maybe it was that? Fuck, I don’t even know. Grayson, who still seems to be in shock, circles his arms around me and buries his face in my neck. I rub his back, offering comfort—he seems to need it right now.

“Make an appointment for tomorrow, and I’ll go with you,” he says, kissing me on top of my head.

“Why are you not freaking out?” I ask him, pulling back to look into his face.

He swallows audibly, this throat working. “What is that going to do to help the situation?” he asks, touching my chin with his fingers. “No matter what, we’re in this together. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Now come to bed,” he says. “I want to make love to my baby mama.”

I slap his stomach, which just turns me on because my hand touches his ripped abs. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

We have a shower together then make slow, gentle love on our bed.

“Paris?” Grayson whispers.

“Yeah?” I reply.

“If we have a little girl, I hope she looks just like you,” he says in such a soft tone, I start to feel emotional.

“We don’t know anything for sure yet,” I reply.

“Denial doesn’t look good on you, babe.”

“Go to bed,” I huff, snuggling closer into him. After Grayson falls asleep, I stay up until late thinking. I couldn’t be pregnant.

Could I?

Chapter Thirty-One

I’m pregnant.

Grayson rubs my back as I throw up for the third time. My stomach burns, and my throat hurts.

“I’m going to die!” I say dramatically, feeling like utter shit. We’d gone to the doctor this morning, and he confirmed it. I’m having a baby. Grayson was calm and collected, and I keep staring at him waiting for him to lose it. He’s like a time bomb; he’s going to explode at some time when reality hits him. For now, I think it’s him living in denial.

“You aren’t going to die. Come on, I’ll get you some crackers to munch on,” he says, standing up and leaving the bathroom. I clean up and wander into the kitchen.

“Are you going to tell your parents?” I ask him, sitting down at the table. I’m wearing nothing but a singlet top and my underwear.

“I will,” he says. He walks over with some crackers and lemonade. “I read online that this might help.”

My eyes find him. “What else did you find out?” I ask, grabbing a cracker.

“Just read up on early pregnancy, what to expect and so on. I want to be able to help you as much as possible,” he says.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” I say, forcing myself to eat the cracker.

“I try,” he says, lip twitching. “I’d prefer ‘fucking hot’ or something, but adorable will do.”

“You’re all of the above, how about that? I’m sure many would agree.”

“Your opinion is the only one that matters to me,” he says in a low tone.

I put the cracker down. “We can do this. You know that, right?”

He nods. “I know it. You’re going to be an amazing mother. Our baby is so lucky.” I blink furiously trying to stop my eyes from watering. “Babe,” he says, shaking his head when he sees me getting emotional.

“What? I just have something in my eye,” I say, wiping my face with my hands.

“Happy tears I can take,” he says, rubbing my back. Someone knocks at the door and Grayson goes to answer it, kissing me on top of my head before he walks away. He comes back into the kitchen with London trailing behind him.

“I tried to get rid of her,” he jokes.

“Congrats, Miss Preggo,” she says, grinning wide. “Shotgun on all your clothes when you can’t fit into them!”

“Over my dead body,” I reply, opening the can of lemonade and taking a sip.

“And you,” she says to Grayson. “Mr Super Sperm. Getting through contraception and everything.” I almost choke on the drink, and put my hands to my face, laughter bubbling out of me.

“Why are you here again, London?” Grayson asks, sounding a mixture of amused and annoyed.

I peep through my fingers. “My sister’s pregnant,” she says. “I want to savour the moment.”

“What?” Grayson asks, looking and sounding confused.

“I’m the screwed up sister, everyone thought I’d get pregnant first…”

She seriously has no filter. Grayson drags her to the front door and kicks her out. “Your sister is a menace.”

Don’t I know it?

* * *

I can feel his gaze on me throughout class. When it’s finally over, we walk out together.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, placing his hand on my lower back.

“I’m fine; you don’t need to baby me, Gray.”

“I’m not babying you. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he says, sounding a little hurt at my comment.

“I know,” I sigh. “My emotions are all over the place right now.”

“Why don’t you take a few days off and relax? I already told Aiden you’re quitting the bar,” he says casually.

I wait until we get into the car before I say anything. “I’m not quitting work, Gray.”

His head snaps to me. “You’re pregnant. I’m not having you working when I have the means to take care of you. You will be exhausted!”

“That’s my decision to make,” I say, lifting my chin.

“And it’s my job to take care of you,” he replies, hands gripping the steering wheel.

I rub my forehead. “You don’t get to just make decisions for me. Whether we’re together or not. Yes, I’m having your baby, but you don’t get to control me. If you wanted me to stop work, you should have discussed it with me!”

“I knew you would be against it! And you’re not fucking working!” he says, raising his voice.

As soon as the car comes to a stop, I’m out of there. I grab my key, unlock the door, and storm inside. Grayson walks in about a minute later, sighing heavily as he puts the car keys on the table. I pull out my phone and put it to my ear.

“Hey Aiden,” I say before the phone is pulled away from me. He hangs up then turns to stare at me, his jaw clenched.

“What the fuck?” I snap, reaching out for my phone.

“You can’t work and study, Paris, it’s too much! Especially when you don’t have to!” he growls, starting to pace up and down. “Why can’t you just let me take care of you?”

“So what, you just want me to rely on you for everything? So I’ll have to ask you for money, since I won’t be making any? Will you what, give me a weekly allowance or something?” I yell.

He stops pacing and fractionally turns to stare me down. “I don’t know why the hell you’re with me when you obviously think so little of me,” he says, before grabbing his keys and walking out. He doesn’t slam the door, but it closes with a resounding thud all the same.

I hear the sound of his car leaving as the first tear drops. Doesn’t he understand? I can’t not earn any money, or live off him. It’s not who I am. I want to pay my own way. I don’t want to have to ask him for money when he has already done so much for me. He thinks that I think little of him—but that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s because I don’t want to take advantage of him. He’s so giving, so loving. I try and call his number, but he doesn’t answer. I really messed up this time. I ring him one more time before I give up.

Then I crawl in bed and fall asleep.

* * *

My phone rings, pulling me from my deep sleep.

“Hello?” I say sleepily.

“Paris, it’s Leah, sorry to wake you,” she says, speaking loudly. There is music in the background, like she’s at a club or bar.

“No problem. What’s up?”

“You might want to come and get Grayson…” she says, sounding worried. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay, is everything okay?” I ask, sitting up.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just a little drunk,” she says.

“Coming now,” I say, hanging up the phone. I check the time, ten pm. I can’t believe he never came back after that. Sure, we had a fight, but he’s never left me like that before. I text London and ask her if she can come and pick me up, and she says yes. I quickly dress in jeans and a white tank top, shoving my feet in my ballerina flats.

“What mission are we on?” she asks when I get into the car.

“Mission pick up drunk Grayson,” I say, lifting my head back. “We had a fight.”

“Put the address in the GPS,” she says, handing me her phone. I type in the address, and we let the GPS guide us. We pull up to a bar about twenty minutes from home, and I see his car parked out front straight away.

“I can go in and get him if you want?” she offers.

“No, I’ll go and get him,” I tell her. As I walk to the bar, I smile at the bouncer and show him my ID before walking in. The place is packed out. I walk to the bar, Grayson coming into view. Only he’s not alone. Dylan sits beside him. They clink their shot glasses together, then drink. I see red. I storm up to him, only to get side tracked by Leah.

“He didn’t do anything,” she says quickly, eying Dylan and grimacing. “He came here with me and then she rocked up.”

Just. Fucking. Great.

I walk right up to Grayson, pick up his bottle of beer, and tip it over his head. I get he was mad, but he’s gone too fucking far right now.

“What the f--” he growls, standing up. When he sees it’s me, his eyes widen. I’m confused as a small smile makes an appearance on his lips. Dylan puts her hand on his arm, and he glances down at it, then at her. Realisation comes to him, as his face blanches. He pushes her arm off him, and steps closer to me, his movements slow. He’s drunk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this drunk.

“Babe,” he says, taking another staggered step closer to me. I put my hand up, halting his movements. He lifts his shirt up, revealing his six-pack, and wipes the beer off his face.

“I’m going home,” I say.

“Decide to join the party?” Dylan says, standing next to Grayson. He ignores her, dark eyes on me. I step forward and grab Dylan by the neck.

“Listen here, you bitch, he doesn’t want you. Have some fucking self-respect. I’m having his baby. So why don’t you go find someone else to harass?” I growl, seeing red. She tries to pull out of my hold, so I squeeze tighter. “Nod if you understand me.”

She nods. “Great,” I say in a sarcastic tone. I feel Grayson’s arm wrap around my waist. So I let go of her. She instantly takes a few steps back, holding her neck. Her eyes are wide with shock and fear. Okay, so I may have lost my temper a little.

“Let’s go home, babe,” Grayson says, pulling me away from Dylan. I snatch my arm away.

I turn to Leah. “Can you take him home?”

“Of course but…”

“No, Leah,” I say, shaking my head. I know she wants me to take him home, to make everything better. But this time I can’t. I turn and walk away. I hear him calling me, and then I hear him yelling. I power walk to the car and slide in, slamming the door behind me.

London winces. ‘Don’t take it out on my baby.”

“Sorry, we need to leave now,” I say, staring at the door. Grayson walks out, looking frantic. He finally spots our car and comes storming toward us. I lean over London and lock the doors.

“Drive?” she asks.

“Drive,” I repeat, ignoring Grayson’s calls. Let him enjoy his time with that bitch while I sit at home crying and pregnant with his baby. My phone rings, but like he did to me, I ignore him.

“Want to come stay at mine?” she asks.

“Please,” I say, my voice cracking.

“You two will sort it out, Paris. Don’t stress, okay,” she says. I know she’s worrying about the baby.

“I’ll be all right,” I tell her, forcing a smile. When she stops at the supermarket, I turn to look at her.

She shrugs. “I figured you would need some ice cream.”

I smile again, and it’s a real one this time.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Later that night, I get a text message from someone I never thought I’d hear from again.

Diamond - I didn’t want to do this, but boss insisted. He wants you for an event next week. A one-off thing. 10 K if you’re interested. Take care, sugar.

Ten thousand dollars for one night? Where the hell was this event when I needed to pay off London’s debt? I look down at my stomach. That money could do a lot for me right now. I could buy all the things for the baby and cut down on a few shifts at work. Was I really thinking of doing this? I send a text message back to Diamond, then go to sleep.

* * *

My phone doesn’t stop ringing, so I put it on silent. I hear the banging on the front door first thing in the morning. I put a pillow over my head from where I’m sleeping on the couch and ignore it. I don’t want any drama today, I just want to sleep. My body aches, and I feel exhausted even though I haven’t really done anything. Except create new life inside me. London appears from her bedroom door, hair all over the place, scowl on her face.

“Are we loving Grayson this morning? Or hating?” she asks as she stares at the door.

“Definitely not loving,” I say, unable to say I hate him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say I hate him.

“All right,” she says. “How did you sleep?”

I wince. “I’ve had better.”

“I told you to sleep on the bed!” she growls, hands on her hips.

“I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

She gives me a look that says she clearly doesn’t understand the difference. The banging commences again.

“Shit, I have to answer it. The neighbours will complain,” she says, walking to the door and opening it. “What the hell do you want, drunko?” I hear her say.

“I need to talk to her,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Well, she doesn’t want to see you. So take a hint,” she says, full of attitude.

“For fuck’s sake, London, move aside,” he growls, losing his patience with her. I hear them both speaking to each other in low voices; then they both walk into the living room.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” he asks, seeing me lying there.

I shrug, attempting nonchalance. “I thought I’d let you have the bed at home in case you wanted to bring one of your exes back.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” he growls. “I went to a bar with Leah. Dylan showed up, and we had drinks together. That was it!”

“You shouldn’t have gone out in the first place! You were angry, so I came to apologise and take you home; instead, you were sitting there next to her! And you know how I feel about her. You know! And you didn’t give a shit!” I say angrily, standing up beside the couch.

“Babe,” he says, pausing for a moment. “I’m sorry you see it that way, but that’s not how it was at all.”

“How did she even know you were there?” I ask him.

Silence. “Dylan called me when I was there.”

“Why the fuck is she still calling you?” I yell.

He runs his hands down his face. “I rang her to yell at her over the stunt she pulled. She didn’t answer, but then she called me back when I was at the bar. I mentioned I was there; she then just showed up.”

I laugh but there’s no humour in it. “So that’s your apology? You fucked up, Grayson. Your words say one thing, but your actions clearly say something else. How would you feel if I walked out of the house because I was angry, and then went to a bar and had drinks with my ex?”

His expression darkens, the air in the room getting tenser by the second. “She means nothing to me. That’s why I don’t see it as you do, but you’re right. I shouldn’t have even spoken to her,” he says, eyes not leaving mine. “You have no competition, babe, no one. I don’t even look at women like that anymore. Fuck, you’re all I see. All I want. I just wish that you could see that too.”

“If I’m feeling insecure, don’t you think some of that is on you? By doing shit like this?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m not even wearing a bra.

London walks over to me with a bottle of water and some crackers. “Thanks,” I tell her. Grayson’s face drops even further. He normally does these things for me.

“When are you coming home?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I tell him. He stands in front of me, pushing an errant lock of hair behind my ear.

“Please come home so we can talk,” he says softly so only I can hear him.

“I’m sorry about how I reacted over the money thing. I don’t want to have to ask you for money, to rely on you. And you shouldn’t have spoken to Aiden for me, but still I know that you were looking out for me, even though you didn’t go about it the right way,” I say. “But what you did afterwards… I don’t think I should have to deal with that. The next time we fight, are you going to do that again? I don’t know now. And I don’t know if I can believe you anymore.”

“I fucked up, babe--let me make it up to you. I was just… hurt. What’s mine is yours, always. You think you would have to ask me for money? I would give you a damn bank card, whatever you wanted. You wouldn’t have to ask me for anything—it’s not like that between us. At least, I thought it wasn’t. I know you like to be independent, and I get that. It’s just seeing you—sick in the mornings, then uni, then work—working your ass off. How do you think I feel about that? When I have the means to give you an easier life. You’re carrying my baby, and I want the two of you healthy. So try and look at it from my point of view. I’m just trying to take care of my family the best I can.”

I close my eyes. “I know you’re trying. I know that.”

“I’m sorry for being a caveman; I won’t make your decisions for you again. At least, I’ll try not to,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “You can always call me out on it if I do, like you’re doing right now.”

I hate how charming he is. “I’ll be home in a few days.”

He stills. “A few days? What? I don’t want to wait that long without you.”

I sigh, feeling so damn tired.

“I’m so sorry, babe, you don’t need this stress,” he says, picking me up and lying me back down on the couch. “You rest. I’ll come and see you tomorrow.” He kisses me on my nose. “I love you.”

I look over at London who is sitting on the kitchen bench, staring. “Did you just watch that whole show?” I ask her.

“Yep,” she says, chewing.

“What are you eating?” I ask her.

“Popcorn,” she says, grinning.

“You’re a weirdo,” I say.

“It’s like a TV sitcom. The Grayson and Paris show.”

“You’re an ass,” I say, sinking into the couch, getting comfy. “When’s Aiden coming over? I need to talk to him about my job,” I tell her.

“He’ll be here this afternoon,” she says. “You know, I do have a guest room; there’s just no bed in there. I feel bad; you look uncomfortable. Could you please take the room? I’d feel a hell of a lot better.”

“Well, as long as you feel better,” I say dryly.

As it turns out, we didn’t need to worry. Grayson had a brand new bed and mattress delivered to her house the very next morning.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Two days pass before I go back home. Grayson and I spoke on the phone, but he respected my wishes for space. As I walk into the house, I see one of the spare room doors open. Curious, I go inside and gasp at what I see. The walls are painted yellow, and there is a white cot in the corner. A white chest of drawers, mini table and chairs and a giant pillow decorate the room.

“What do you think?” he asks from behind me.

“You painted the room? And went baby shopping?” I ask, my voice rising in surprise.

“I got the basic things. I didn’t really want to get anything without you, but I wanted to surprise you—to show you that I’m committed to this family. I’ll take you to get everything else, the clothes, toys, bedding... I hope you like it,” he says. When I’m quiet, he continues, “I kept the receipts so you can change it if you don’t.”

“I love everything, Grayson,” I say, turning around and throwing my arms around him. “I love the room.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, sounding worried. I frame his face with my hands.

“I’m sure.”

“Do you forgive me?” he asks, kissing my jaw. “I won’t ever walk away from you again. I’ll stay home and let you yell at me all you want,” he says, lip twitching at his own comment.

“I forgive you, and I love you,” I say kissing his lips. I pull my face back. “Do you forgive me for being a stubborn b—”

“Babe, I forgave you the second after I walked out of the house,” he says, lifting me into his arms. He carries me to the bed, and gently lays me down. “I need to be inside you.”

“I want you too,” I whisper against his lips.

“No more time away, Paris. If you want to be mad at me, be mad at me here, where I can see you. Okay? No more running,” he says as he undresses me. “I’m never going to let you slip through my fingers.”

“Okay,” I agree breathlessly, pulling his mouth back to mine.

Feels good to be home.

* * *

“You don’t work here anymore,” Aiden says, grinning at me crookedly.

“Excuse me! You said I had a permanent job here,” I reply, leaning against the bar.

He laughs. “What brings you by?”

“I compromised with Grayson, and said I will work here two shifts a week. That’s fair, I think,” I tell him. “I’ll stay at uni for as long as I can. Then I will finish my degree online after I have the baby.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” he says, smiling approvingly.

“Are you sure that’s okay? I pretty much just chose my own work schedule,” I tell him, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s fine. I hired another part-time girl, so just let me know what days you want, and she can do the others,” he says, winking at me.

“Pretty sure that’s favouritism,” I say, laughing.

“Perks of being the boss,” he says, pouring me a juice and sliding it over to me.

“Thanks,” I say, taking a sip. He pours his own drink, a beer. “So, you ready to be an uncle?” I ask.

He spits out his beer. “The fuck you say?”

I burst out laughing at his scared expression. “Uncle Aiden. You’re one of my good friends, and you’re dating my sister; it’s only logical.”

He shakes his head at me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Uncle Aiden it is.”

“I’ve seen you with Bella, remember. You’re amazing with kids,” I tell him. He blushes, and I laugh even harder.

“I wanted to say thank you,” I say, looking up at him as my laughter subsides.

“For what?”

“For what? For everything! Giving me a job, being here when I need someone. And now you’ve taken on my sister. Seriously—you’re my hero.”

He grins impishly. “Don’t get all fan girl on me, Paris.”

“Oh, please, I haven’t even heard your emo music,” I say, referring to his old band.

He laughs. “It was pretty emo.”

I lean over the counter and kiss him on the cheek. “I choose to work Mondays and Wednesdays. I’ll see you then.”

He wipes his cheek and nods.

* * *

“You’re having a baby!” Anaya screams, not for the first time.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” Paul mutters from next to her.

“Shut up, Paul,” she replies, pulling out her phone and writing a list of things she wants to buy me.

“She doesn’t even have a bump yet! And you want to go shopping already?” he asks, looking at her like she’s crazy.

“So?” Anaya says, rolling her eyes. “How are you feeling?” she asks, turning her attention to me.

“I’m okay, a bit of nausea but nothing I can’t handle,” I tell her. Grayson chuckles, probably remembering my ‘I’m going to die’ comments.

“I think I’m still in shock,” she says, pulling me in for a hug. “I’m always here if you need me.”

“I know and thank you,” I tell her, feeling emotional at the show of support.

“Don’t worry everyone. I’m here!” London calls out as she walks into the house.

“What is that?” I ask her, eyeing the very large cake in her hands.

“Well, since we’re celebrating,” she says, placing the cake down on the table in front of us.

It has ’Congratulations’ written in white icing, with a picture of a sperm underneath. There is a speech bubble above the sperm that says ‘I won.’ She is such a weirdo. I shake my head at her, hug her, and thank her. Then I hug Aiden, until Grayson pulls me away and sits me on his lap. Leah and Jake come over, along with Grayson’s other friends, Daniel and Nathan. Diamond shows up too, telling me how happy she was that I turned down the offer. Grayson stares at me after that, wanting an explanation.

“They wanted me to dance at an event for ten grand,” I say.

“No way in hell,” he growls, face turning stormy.

“I know,” I say. “I said no. I have a baby to think about now, and I want him or her to be proud of me.”

His eyes soften. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Paris.”

“And a MILF!” London calls out, eavesdropping on our conversation.

Grayson laughs. “And a MILF,” he says into my ear.

I slap his chest. “You’re lucky I love you.”

His expression turns serious. “Don’t I know it.”

His lips come down on mine, and all of our friends cheer.

Who would ever think that I would get a happy ending?

Epilogue

“Don’t even think about trying to name her Edinburgh or Dublin or something,” Grayson says to me as he stares down at our perfect bundle of joy. His parents just left after visiting. They weren’t too thrilled with us when they found out, but I can tell they fell in love with her just as much as we have.

“What?” I ask, laughing.

“Paris, London… That’s as far as the names of places go,” he says, kissing our daughter’s nose.

I laugh harder. “I had no plan of naming her … Edinburgh or something,” I manage to get out.

“Good,” he stares down at her in wonder. His eyes are the softest I’ve ever seen them. He’s in love with her. It’s the most beautiful thing to see. I take a picture of them with my camera, capturing the moment. “What do you want to name her?”

“I want to give her my mother’s name as her middle name, so Ivy Kate. What do you think?” I ask.

A smile spreads across his lips. “It’s perfect. Ivy,” he says softly. I look down at our daughter. She has Grayson’s dark hair and eyes, but my features. Her little pink lips open as she starts to cry.

“I think our princess is hungry,” he says, gently putting her in my lap. “She’s so perfect, Paris. She’s just…”

“I know,” I whisper. I start to breast feed her, humming as she drinks. Grayson bends down and kissed me on the top of my head.

“After she finishes drinking, I’ll take her so you can sleep,” he says, smiling down at us.

I smile in return. “That would be perfect.”

“Thank you for giving me her. For giving me you. I’m going to be the best father. I promise,” he says.

“I know you will,” I tell him.

And I do know it.

Because he cares enough to try to be--and that’s all that I can ask for.

The End

Content

Chantal Fernando
Toxic Girl

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Epilogue