Текст книги "Toxic Girl"

Автор книги: Chantal Fernando

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

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.