The Rules Regarding Gray (6 page)

As she fished in her purse for her keys with one hand, she pulled the front door of the building open with the other, and by the time she’d made it to the old industrial elevator in the lobby, her hand had made it to the bottom of her bag without finding her keys.

“What the fuck?” she muttered, and then she stopped still as the old elevator lurched to a loud stop in front of her and the door lifted. She’d left her keys in her locker. She could literally see herself setting them in the locker, and then dropping her bag right on top of them. What she couldn’t see was picking the keys up when she’d grabbed her bag later on.

She jogged the few blocks back to the Butler Center, and as she came panting to a stop in front of the door, she cursed again. The building was dark and silent. She tugged on the handle anyway, but it was locked, and as she turned and let her head drop back to stare at the now dark sky, she growled in frustration.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, staring at it for a moment. She didn’t want to do this. She very much did not want to do this.

Her fingers moved over the letters on her cell phone screen quickly, and she paused for a moment before hitting send. But then she hit send, and she started the short trek back to her building.

I’m locked out of my apartment. You have my only spare key. Can you bring it to me?

Chapter Five

Jasper watched Ian drunkenly throw a dart against the dartboard in the back of his bar. He was stumbling around with two rather flirtatious women, and he’d been buying them drinks for the past hour. It was getting old, and as Jas finished wiping the bar top clean, he stepped back against the counter behind him and sighed.

He’d been pissed at Ian for days now, but when he’d come in that night, sullenly collapsing to a barstool, Jas had felt sorry for him. Gray wasn’t speaking to him, and given the way Ian was holding his head in his hands staring down into his beer, he was legitimately upset.

But then he got a few more beers in him…

And then the two flirtatious gals entered…

And now Jas was pissed at him…

Again…

When Ian’s cell phone beeped out that he had a text message, Jas glanced at Ian. He was back to throwing darts as the enamored women watched him. Jasper rolled his eyes, tossing the hand towel he was holding onto the counter, and he grabbed Ian’s cell phone from the bar.

He studied the screen for a moment, and then he looked back up to Ian. When he started typing a response, his heart raced.

Sure.

He searched through Ian’s contacts for her entry, and then he sent the contact information to his own phone. When he rounded the bar, he clapped his hand on his night manager Seth’s shoulder who was pouring over the schedule at the end of the bar. “Hey. I’m leaving for the night. If it’s still slow at midnight lock up.”

“Sure, boss,” Seth responded.

Jasper walked over to Ian then, catching his arm just before he threw another dart.

“What the fuck, Jas?”

One of the flirts started eyeing Jasper and biting her lip. She was lanky and blonde with oversized tits. She was his
type
. But he didn’t pay her any attention, and he turned back to Ian.

“Give me your keys,” he demanded.

Ian fished them out of his pocket, smacking them into Jasper’s hand. “I’m not that drunk,” he slurred.

“You are actually. Which one is your house key?”

“Why?” Ian was getting belligerent, but he took the keys back, fingering them until he came to the right one. He held it up for Jasper with an annoyed expression on his face.

Jasper took it off the ring and handed it back to Ian. “I’m taking your keys.” He turned and started walking away.

“How the fuck am I supposed to get home?” His face was scrunched up in confusion.

Jasper turned around slowly, and when he was staring at Ian, he spoke. “Seth, you call Ian a cab when he’s ready to leave.” Jasper studied Ian for a moment, his jaw clenching tight before he forced himself to relax. “And I want to know if he leaves alone.” Jasper walked away toward the back door then.

“I work tomorrow, asshole,” Ian muttered angrily.

When Jasper turned back once more, it was to see one of the flirts hanging on Ian’s arm. “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning and drop you here to get your car.” He didn’t wait for a response. He turned and left out the back door.

It took him less than five minutes to get to Gray’s building, and when he pulled up in front, she was sitting on a bench by the door under a streetlight. It was dark out, and she didn’t notice him at first. She was sitting cross-legged on the bench, and as he studied her, she lifted her hands to her head, undid her bun, and then let her long auburn hair fall.

He stepped from his car, and when he walked around it to the curb, she finally saw him. Her mouth dropped, and her eyes shot open wide, staring in shock at him as he walked toward her.

“What are you doing here?”

He held up Ian’s keys for her to see. “Ian had too much to drink to come himself. Now, which of these are yours?” He tossed her the keys, and she caught them one handed.

She fished through the few keys on the ring before taking hers off. When she handed the key ring back to him, his fingers brushed against hers. She stood then, but before she could reach for her duffle bag on the bench, he snatched it up.

“Thanks for bringing me the key,” she said quietly, and then she held her hand out to take the bag from him.

“Can I come up?”

Her eyes were wide saucers of green as she watched him. “I don’t think that’s a good—”

“I want to talk to you.” He made no move to give the bag to her, and he focused on her as she decided.

She finally nodded and turned toward the building. He followed her in, into the elevator, and up to the fourth floor of the old building. The elevator exited into a central interior room with only three doors opening off it. One was labeled “Stairs,” and the other two were labeled “4A” and “4B.” The building was split in half from the front to the back, and each loft consisted of half of the front of the building, an entire side exterior wall, and then half of the backside of the building. As she opened the door to 4B, he saw just how large such a layout was.

It was exactly the type of space he loved. The floors were stained and finished concrete, the ceilings were insanely tall, and the windows surrounding all three exterior walls were large and arched, starting from the floor and extending halfway up the wall toward the ceiling. He followed her to the open bedroom that sat on the front interior corner of the loft. The elevator lobby on her floor created an alcove of sorts for the bedroom. Her bed was large with simple white sheets and a white down comforter, and the head of the bed was centered on one of the front large arched windows.

She dropped her duffle bag on the bed, and then she walked toward the kitchen. The kitchen was free standing in the center of the open loft with a large dining room table on the opposite side of the island. Her living room was in the exterior front corner, and there was a large dance studio area in the back exterior corner. Her bathroom appeared to be the only door in the place, and it was in the back interior corner of the loft, again built into the alcove created by the elevator and elevator lobby.

She watched him as his eyes traveled around her space, but she wasn’t smiling. He wandered away to the dance studio area, and she was the one trailing after him then. He stood on the edge of the large square of finished hardwood, and when she stepped up beside him, he glanced down to her.

“What are those spinny things you do?”

She smirked slightly. “A pirouette?”

“Yeah. Show me.” He held his eyes on her.

“I don’t think so.” She was so expressionless as she watched him.

“Why not? I thought you liked to dance.”

She studied him for a moment. “Are we really talking about dancing?” she said quietly.

“Well, what do you think I’m talking about?”

She stared at him but said nothing.

“Fucking?” he offered.

She shrugged.

“I see.” He turned and wandered toward the living room as she watched after him. He stopped at one of the large windows on the front of her loft, and after he looked down at his car four stories below, he turned back to her. “I’m not talking about fucking.”

She walked toward him. “He said you knew.”

He didn’t know what this expression was. Anger. Hurt. Complete and utter distrust. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

But he nodded slowly. “Knowing and agreeing are two entirely different things. Did he fail to mention I’d already refused?”

She stopped walking then. She was five feet from him, and he focused on her, saying nothing for a moment.

“Of course he did,” he finally muttered. “He brought it up the very day I met you. I told him I wasn’t interested. So how about you direct the anger boiling through your veins right now in the right direction.” His words were clipped and harsh, but in truth, he was misplacing his anger as much as she was. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Well, I’m not your type after all.” She smirked subtly, but it fell from her face quickly as her eyes drifted away.

He let his gaze wander over her body, stopping at her tits for a moment before moving on down to the short denim skirt she was wearing. She looked a little ridiculous really in her leotard and tights with a worn denim skirt, and as his focus traveled lower to her feet, his brow wrinkled in confusion. Her feet were bare under her sandals, and her tights were pushed up her ankles. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected them to be closed toed at the bottom, but clearly they weren’t, and when he slowly let his focus move back up her body, he took a deep breath.

She sure as hell felt like his type.

She was watching him again as he looked her over, but her arms were crossed on her chest now.

“You’ve … shared women with him before, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

She nodded, looking more disappointed than appeased.

“It’s been a while,” he commented blandly.

“Why do you do it?” She swallowed over a lump as she looked at him.

He looked away for a moment, glancing at the ceiling and feeling like a fucking chump. This was a conversation she should be having with Ian, not him. But he had to admit, it stroked his fucking ego like nothing else that she was choosing to have it with him—even if there was little chance she was going to like what he had to say.

“Because it feels good.” He glanced back at her. He was usually blunt, and frankly, he preferred it that way, but for some reason, he felt vulnerable for it at the moment.

She shook her head in what he could only guess was disdain or confusion.

“What? You expected me to say something profound and meaningful?” He wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but her mouth dropped open as he watched her. “Sorry to disappoint you,” he commented sarcastically, and then he walked toward her door. He needed to be away from her, not because he wanted to be, but because it was too hard to like himself at the moment, and he was being a defensive prick as a result.

She followed him. “That’s all you have to say? That’s why you came here to talk to me?” She was glaring at him as he stopped at her front door and turned around to face her.

He blew out a deep breath, propping both hands on the back of his head. But it wasn’t a casual gesture. “No!” he finally snapped at her. His face was snarled in what must look like fury, but it didn’t feel like fury. He wanted to pounce on her, pin her to the floor and ravage her before she could stop him. Instead, he let his fingers dig into the back of his head as he watched her. “You
aren’t
my type. Not in the least. But I want to
fuck
you so much I can barely stand it.” He was still snarling as he spat the words angrily at her.

She gasped, and she stared in shock at him.

“From the moment your
asshole
of a boyfriend and my best friend mentioned it to me, all I’ve been able to think about is which of your
holes
I want to stick it in first. You happy?” Why the hell couldn’t he stop snarling at her? His cock was throbbing, every muscle in his body was tense, and all she could seem to do was gape at him.

“But I didn’t do this!” he yelled. “I’m not the jerk who thought any of this would be a good idea. Your boyfriend is. But look who’s catching the fall out for his stupidity,” he said sarcastically.

He turned then before he could do more damage and walked out, slamming her door behind him. He was relieved as hell to see the elevator still on her floor, and as the door lowered and he finally put some much needed space between them, he exhaled, trying to push the tension and the arousal from his body too. What the fuck had he just done?

He drove, shutting off his brain as he left Austin for his home. There was an apartment above his bar in the upper level of the old home, and he stayed there most often when he was working, but it wasn’t his home. His home was a large sprawling ranch out in the middle of nowhere south of Austin between there and San Antonio. And as the city lights disappeared behind him, he finally released a calming breath of air, rolling his windows down and inhaling deeply.