Chapter 10 Hugs
?Azalea?
I'm seriously considering becoming a stripper. Very seriously.
On the downside, I have little to no arm strength so I may have to stay off the poles.
What am I even saying?
Twelve in the afternoon, I'm walking through town square. Usually, if Grey comes to see me, it's around eleven or so but today he didn't show up.
So, I figured I can go to his restaurant or whatever, maybe see him, and I could get some food if I wanted with the money Aaron gave me.
Two hundred whole dollars. I told him that I didn't want to take his money but he insisted and I can't turn down money like that so I took it.
He's like my sugar daddy. Nevermind.
After getting myself a caramel iced coffee, I turn down Red Street. I open the door to Grey's bar and instead of seeing my favorite waiter, I see another one.
He's leaned against a small counter where the menus are stacked and the cash register sits in front of him. He looks quite unhappy.
"Can I help you?" he mumbles like he doesn't really want to help me. I'm sure that's not very good for Grey's business.
"Can I have a table for one? Or like a table for two I guess since I don't think there's such thing as a table for one," I ramble a tad bit before realizing that the guy that walked in on Grey on I kissing.
Isn't that just fun?
He grabs a menu and hands it to me. My eyebrows furrow a bit and with the wave of his hand, he tells me to go sit wherever. I giggle a little bit at how much he obviously hates what he's doing.
I find a table for two and sit on one side of it opening up my menu.
Oh my gosh, they have waffles.
I shimmy in my seat excitedly and crack my thumbs when I make a fist.
It takes a while for the waiter guy to get to my table. A good thirty minutes actually. Good thing I'm not that hungry or he'd have to be hustling more than that.
"Drink?" he mumbles.
"Sweet tea, please," I tell him and he shuffles away. A good ten minutes later, he comes back to take my order, still not have given me my drink.
"Belgian Waffles," I smile, "with syrup!"
He shuffles away once more. I'm not too sure if he even wrote down my order.
Forty-five minutes later, I'm given some delicious looking waffles. No syrup.
I'm going to sue.
I still never got my drink. I'm going to sue again.
"Here," he throws the bill down on my table. I almost throw it back at his face but I don't.
Thirty dollars?! I don't recall getting a freaking gold-plated waffle.
I look down at the bill and see that there's a cheeseburger, fries, and chicken on it. I go up to the cash register to pay.
"My bill isn't right," I tell him and he looks at me as if he doesn't care. I pay the thirty dollars, figuring that I can just treat a family and they can treat me to my waffles.
Guess who's not getting a tip?
"No tip?" I watch as he rolls his eyes. My eyebrows raise.
"Maybe if I would've got my sweet tea I would give you one," I give him a little nasty smile.
"Bitch," he mumbles as my actual favorite waiter comes up beside him.
"Wouldn't call her that if I were you," he slaps him on the back.
Dang right sucker, Jai knows.
"He sucks by the way," I point at whoever the heck that guy is.
"You swallow," he narrows his blue eyes at me. Wow brother, what are we? Eight years old.
And for his information, yes. Yes, I do swallow my food.
"Well, you know what? I hope you fall off your high horse and break your little butt. You don't even have a butt. It's nonexistent, I hope you know that" I narrow my eyes right back at him.
"I hope you know that you have no boobs," he crosses his arms over his chest.
Exsqueeze me? I have a strong C cup. Almost a D. He's just being a brat.
Am I going to go there? I certainly am.
"Your peepee is tiny."
Jai breaks into a fit of chuckles but me and the crappy waiter fella just stay in our stare off.
The waiter guy shoves his order notepad into Jai's chest before walking through the door to the back.
That's right, walk away.
"He deserved that," Jai chuckles and I nod. I know.
"He's my brother," he adds and I visibly wince.
"You poor soul. If you'd like me to come any time to put him in his place, I will," I assure him.
"Do you want to see Grey this time? Are you two better?"
"We're friends now," I nod and his eyebrows raise.
"Friends, huh?" he questions a little tease in his voice.
"Yep," I nod.
"Go through the door to the back, then go through the door at the end of that room, follow the hallway and go in the first door on the right," he says and I blink. I lost concentration when he said door for the second time.
"Yeah, okay," I smile, picking up my half-drunken coffee. I walk through the door and then through another door, the only other door I saw and then I come to a hallway.
I stand there for a good five minutes. Freaking heck man.
I try the first door on the left. It's a closet with nothing in it.
I try the first door on the right. I see Grey.
His eyes dart up to mine and I give him a little smile walking more in the room. He sits behind a pretty big wooden desk with an iMac on top of it.
Once upon a time, I wanted one of those. I looked at the price and nearly had the biggest heart attack ever recorded.
The rest of his desk is filled with paperwork and a coffee cup.
"Hi, Grey," I close the door behind me. I watch as his eyes run over my attire. A pair of shorts and an off the shoulder light blue top, paired with my gorgeous leg brace that I love so much.
I take a seat in the chair in front of his desk. He sits his chin in his hand, his eyes trying to keep themselves open. I smile softly at him.
"Are you tired? You look a little tired," I question, a little tilt to my head.
I walk forward and hold my coffee out to him.
"I drank quite a bit of it but you can have the rest. Or I can go get you some," I stop by his desk and he turns in his wheely chair toward me.
I feel like he might yell at me if I suddenly start spinning him in it.
My eyes zero in on a cut on his lip. A pretty big one. I gasp, getting closer.
"What happened to you? Does it hurt?"
"Did you get jumped?" I grab my heart. Oh God, he did, didn't he?
"The fuck are you talking about?" he grumbles. I set my cup on his desk and go closer to him bending at my waist.
I grab his face and tilt it up to me. I get a good look at his lip. It's busted which tells me that he got it by blunt force trauma.
I watch way too much Cops.
I run my finger over the cut on his bottom lip lightly before realizing that I'm just holding his face. I feel my cheeks heat up but I keep my cool.
His dark eyes look up at me and I'm surprised to see that he's not glaring. He's just looking. Holy mackerel, did my talk with him yesterday actually work?
I'm sure it's because we talked about this yesterday and now he's realized that he's been mean.
"I got headbutted," he answers quietly and I feel my eyes narrow. Aren't you supposed to headbutt somebody on their forehead, not their lip? What a can't-get-right.
"Where are they?" I question, fired up.
"They're about to get got," I assure him and his lips pull up into the most gorgeous smirk I've ever seen in my whole entire life.
"Here, here," I pick up my coffee again, holding it out to him.
"I'm not drinking that shit," he scowls at it. I'm offended at the way he looks at it. And I'm sure teenage girls everywhere would be too.
"Why not?"
"What's that shit?" he reuses the curse word, pointing to the caramel in the side of the cup.
Dirt that I mixed together and then put in my cup.
Getting tired of standing, I drag the chair in front of his desk to right beside his. I sit down and hold the cup out to him again.
"It's only caramel," I giggle and his eyes dart back to mine.
"You don't want it?" he questions and I shake my head. Finally, he takes it. I watch his lips as he takes a sip, gauging his reaction.
He doesn't say anything but he keeps drinking. I knew he'd like it.
"Your chefs makes really good waffles," I say out of the blue as he picks up a pen and begins writing more on what looks like a form or something.
"Your waiter fella out there got me so fired up you don't even know. He never gave me my sweet tea. And he had the audacity," I speak every syllable of the last word.
"To say that I had no boobs."
He turns back to me. I watch as his eyes fall on my chesticles. After quite a while of him just looking at them, his eyes find mine again.
He raises a single eyebrow.
"He lied."
My heart flutters and I nearly fan myself.
"Why was he looking?" his head tilts, and I notice how his fingers crack when he balls them into fists.
"You've got me on that," I shrug, "he's probably just looking at what he could never have."
"Damn right," he mutters, his eyes lighter than before.
"I told him he had a small peepee," I hold my chin up proudly. The corners of his mouth rise.
I made him smile a little.
I feel my heart swell.
He leans forward, cutting my thoughts off by grabbing both armrests of my chair and dragging me until I'm right in front of him.
"Next time come get me," he grumbles lowly and I nod, my eyes set in on his lips. No romantic thoughts.
He pulls my chair even closer before his arms wrap around my waist pulling me to the edge of my chair.
"Friends, Grey," I whisper.
"Do you always stare at your friends' lips?" he questions back and my eyes dart to his dark ones.
My imaginary friends don't even have lips. They talk with their feet.
"Y-Yes," I stutter and his eyes darken as his eyebrows furrow into a little scowl. His jaw clenches and I figure that the answer I gave him was not one he wanted to hear.
His tattooed hand comes to rest on my cheek. He leans closer to me and my eyes flutter as he presses his lips against the opposite cheek, his hand pressing my face closer to his lips.
He pulls away and looks at me.
"Was that good?" he questions genuinely. I give him a soft smile.
He's actually sweet when he's not glaring at me. Gathering my courage, I straighten my torso and lean up to him.