Chapter 12 Destroyed
?Azalea?
I don't remember my bed ever being this comfortable. I actually recall it feeling like a rock on my back.
I open my eyes and for the first time, it feels like I actually have energy. I let out a little evil giggle. I'm not going to be needing coffee today.
I stretch my limbs letting a groan out as my back arches and my buttcheeks shake from how good the stretch is.
I look around. I'm met with an unfamiliar room. The last thing I remember from yesterday was sitting on Grey's lap. After I told him about Jake.
Is this Grey's room? Gray, white, and black cover most of the room. Fitting.
Thank the good Lord he didn't take me home.
I look down at the black comforter and catch sight of how big this bed is. I could spend all day in this bed. I look at the foot of the bed and see a door, most likely leading to the bathroom.
I have to brush this God-forbidden bad breath away. I don't necessarily want to get up though. Or rummage through his bathroom. Good Lord only knows what I could find.
Preparation H? I hope not.
A wig? His hair better be real.
What if his toilet paper isn't Charmin Ultra Soft?
I'm sorry but I cannot wipe my butt with sandpaper.
I look at the other end of the room. The door to go out sits cracked open.
I could never live by myself.
I can never make an executive decision or any important decision at all. I always think of worse case scenarios.
If I go to the bathroom, who knows, Grey could be taking a poop and I'd walk right in on him.
If I go out the door, Grey might faint from either my breath or how I must be looking at the moment.
The door to the room bursts open. For a second I think it's the S.W.A.T coming to get me so I let out a frightened squeal.
Next thing I know, a friggin monster jumps on my bed and looks me dead in the eye. I'm left speechless, my eyes wide.
Maybe if I stay still, I'll survive.
"Bear," Grey's voice fills the room. Dang right this pup looks like a bear holy guacamole. 'Bear's' black fur almost perfectly blends in with the comforter and he towers over me even when I'm sitting up.
Bear doesn't listen to Grey and I can't take my eyes off of him. His puppy-like face lets out a little playful whine.
He jumps like a fox in the snow and I let out a little giggle. He's like a big fur ball. He plops his big body down on the bed and rolls over.
"He wants a rub," Grey's deep voice reaches my ears and I don't hesitate to rub Bear's belly.
"Is this your puppy?" I smile excitedly and for the first time look up at Grey. He's looking back at me, leaned against the doorframe. He gives a curt nod.
Growing up, I'd always wanted a dog. We never got one though. Both my dad and Jake were allergic.
Bear sits up suddenly and licks my face with his huge tongue. I wince a little at the force of it when his tongue goes over my bruised cheek.
"What kind of dog is he?" I giggle as Bear comes to sit right on top of me. And he's no small dog at all.
"Newfoundland."
I pull down my dress after realizing that Grey is getting a little bit of a show.
"Whatever you need is in the bathroom," he nods is head over to the door that I had spent quite a while deciding to go in or not.
Does that mean he'll be in there too?
I nearly slap myself in the face for thinking that.
I make my way out of the bed, now noticing my knee brace isn't on my knee. Thank gosh, that thing is not comfortable to sleep in. I feel Grey's eyes on me the whole time I do. I look over my shoulder at him.
He was checking out the goodies in my trunk.
His eyes travel from my butt up to mine. My eyes fall to his lips when his tongue meets the corner of his mouth.
The corner of his mouth turns up in a little smirk before his eyes dart back to Bear. He gives him a little whistle and the two exit the room. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
He makes me way too hot and bothered to just be a friend.
I just don't want to get hurt.
Within twenty minutes of the time we kissed, he called it a mistake and I felt like crying for a week. I just don't want that to happen again.
I mosey/limp into the bathroom and come to the conclusion that if this place is Grey's, then he's got some dosh darn money.
Can owning a single restaurant really give you all this? I might have to become an owner.
Oh my gosh, what if a stripper bar could get me even more?
I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a wild mess. My blonde locks stick up with static and quite frankly, I just look like a lion.
After controlling the front, I turn to look at the back. My eyes catch my butt and the way my dress is slightly bundled in the back leaving the bottom of my cheeks fully open for viewing. Grey's viewing.
I feel my cheeks burn bright and I fix it quickly like that will make some sort of difference. He already saw it.
I fix the back of my hair, combing through it with my fingers. I look at the nice granite sink in front of me and spot a toothbrush in its package.
What a doll, getting me a toothbrush out.
I brush my teeth and wash my face before seeing the obvious bruise on my cheekbone.
"Crud," I curse, looking around like he's going to have foundation in here or something. Of course, I find nothing.
Just keep your head down.
I tinkle before washing my hands and exiting the bathroom. I put my brace on that was sitting on his dresser then I walk to the door.
I poke my head out and there's a pretty friggin big hallway. I go left because why not? Not really any pictures are on the walls and I feel like it's a little bare.
I count a good place where there could be a little table with some flowers on it. I should be an interior designer.
I take a couple of turns, come across one living room with no one in it and so I turn around and go the other way. This must be an apartment or something.
I finally come to a living room that actually looks like someone has been in it. The television is on and playing some sort of show.
I walk further into it and I see a huge kitchen to my left. Bear comes running at me full force and I almost brace for impact before Grey whistles one short time and he's halting.
"He's a puppy; he's hyper," he comes into view from the kitchen. Just seeing him makes this place almost homely. And Bear of course.
"How old is he?" I pet his humongous head.
"Nine months," he looks down at him, his eyes soft. I nearly squeal at the thought of Grey being soft for a puppy. I can't imagine he's only nine months being as big as he already.
I look at the clock over his shoulder and see that it's nine-thirty. That's later than I usually wake up but I'm not complaining, I slept so well.
I see him take a step closer to me and I turn my attention back to him. His eyes are set harshly, his jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed pretty angrily.
"Grey-" I begin to question him but I stop when his strong hands grip my face. I feel myself heat up when his finger brushes over the bruise on my cheekbone softly.
"Where the fuck did that come from?" his voice rumbles and I search my brain for a lie.
"I sleep wild, I probably hit myself in the face," I shrug, keeping my voice from shaking. I'm not sure it's possible to hit yourself in the face hard enough to get a bruise like mine but whatever.
Thank gosh I had makeup on it yesterday so that my lie fits.
He doesn't really look like he believes it.
"That wouldn't leave a bruise like that," his voice stays tense and strained.
"Well, I'm just super duper strong," I assure him, "Imagine the damage I could do to other people."
"It's okay," I give him a nod when he still doesn't look happy. At all.
He leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on the bruise. My heart swells up and my breath gets caught in my throat.
That's friendly, right? Sort of.
I don't care.
"Good?" his deep voice rumbles against me quietly. Speechless at such a gentle action, I just nod.
"Is your restaurant successful?" I question. Looking around, nothing that I've seen in this whole apartment looks cheap. I bet his shirt costs more than me and it's only a dark blue long sleeve.
I kind of miss seeing his tattoos.
And those forearm veins.
"Can you take your shirt off?" my eyes widen slightly at what just flew out of my mouth, "so your restaurant?"
"You want my shirt off?" he asks and I feel like he's just saying it to make me want to jump out of the window even more than I already do.
"Well, your restaurant and bar I guess," I keep the subject directed away from the whole shirt ordeal.
"Yes or no?" his eyes narrow in what seems like a teasing way as he tilts his head.
One-hundred percent yes.
"Yes or no? I don't know how to answer that question," I avert my eyes from his.
"I know you were looking at my gluteus maximus," I change the subject. Now who's turn is it to be embarrassed?
"Mhm. I was," he owns up to it looking the furthest thing from embarrassed. Now I'm at a crossroad.
"You liked it didn't you?" I blurt out before rolling my lips into my mouth to keep more idiotic things from coming out.
"Of course," he says without any shame whatsoever, a little bitty smile on his lips that nearly knocks the breath out of me.
I look at Bear for help. He just gives me a doggish smile back.
"Don't you have a restaurant to go to and do nothing at?" I question and if Bear could understand what I just said, he'd laugh.
"Where'd you sleep?" I question. I would've known if he slept in the same bed as me. I would've been hot all night.
He motions his head over to the couch and I feel bad. He lives here, he shouldn't have been the one to sleep on the couch.
"I feel bad," I wince.
"I'll sleep with you next time then."
Wait, with me?
Wait, next time?
Wait, I'm fine with that?
Wait, sexy time or sleep?
"Sex?" I blurt, "Don't answer that, it's not friendly."
"Whatever you want," he shrugs, ignoring the fact that I told him not to answer. My face heats up.
"Hungry?" he questions like he hadn't just suggested that we have sexual sexy time.
"For what?" Food duh, I cannot believe myself.