Chapter 8
Grayson didn’t know where to look when Alyssa came out of the bathroom later that night. She all but ran into him, wearing only a thin cotton tank top and shorts that were so short it looked like her ass got hungry and was trying to eat them. Her nipples were hard and poking through the fabric. It was a sexual fantasy overload, and he couldn’t do anything about it thanks to the friends arrangement they’d agreed to.
He should have put in a clause stating that if a person looked this sexy when she left the bathroom, all rules were null and void. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
“All yours,” she said.
“Excuse me?” He coughed, hoping she meant she was all his.
“I’m done in the bathroom and I only left one shampoo and conditioner in there, per the agreement.”
“Right. Thanks.”
He hobbled into the bathroom and turned the water to lukewarm. He had a feeling he would be taking a lot of lukewarm showers in the future. When he picked up her shampoo and sniffed it, he was instantly flooded with memories of the two of them in his bed naked. His cock lurched, eager to make the fantasy a reality.
“Sorry. No can do. I shook on it.” He frowned at his penis and picked up his own shampoo.
When he finished, he paused by her door for a second before heading to his room. He wasn’t sure if he should wish her a good night or maybe ask for a kiss. He decided just to let it go. He rarely told Trent good night. He would use his past roommate relationship as a guide in this new relationship with Alyssa. From the handshake on, obviously.
He lay there awake for a long time, thinking of how stupid he was for agreeing to this. Eventually he fell asleep, but didn’t stay that way for very long. He woke to the sound of a female screaming.
Some stupid instinct had him out of bed and running into her room to protect her before he even contemplated he might need a weapon. Fortunately he didn’t. She was dreaming, just as Sasha had predicted.
He flipped on the light to find Alyssa thrashing around in bed as if being attacked by an invisible threat. The light woke her, and she looked around, her chest heaving. Yes, he noticed her chest heaving even in the middle of a crisis.
“What is it?” he asked as he sat on the edge of the bed. She was having a hard time catching her breath. She coughed a few times and he noticed her shaking hands. “Bad dream?” he guessed. She nodded confirmation as he took one of her hands and stroked it.
“You’re fine. Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head quickly. “Want some water?” He hadn’t had a nightmare in a long time, but he remembered his mother bringing him water. Again she shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice raspy. “I should have warned you about this. As Sasha mentioned, I scream in my sleep, but not all night. It happens sometimes. It should be better once I’m used to my surroundings. It’s worse in new places.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll learn to sleep through the blood-curdling screams.” This was only a slight exaggeration.
“You’re a good guy.”
“So they say.” He shook his head and stood up, trying to be the good guy and stop ogling her breasts.
“You can leave the light on,” she said quietly. Was she still frightened? He opened his mouth to offer to stay with her, but closed it. He didn’t need to find excuses to get into bed with her. He’d made an agreement, and he was keeping his word.
* * * *
Doug strolled into the office on Monday morning feeling like a new man. His first stop was Grayson’s office. His friend had come to work after ladies’ night with a smug grin. Doug wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Except Gray still had the grin.
“Seriously?” Doug complained.
“What about you? You’re smiling too. What’s that all about?”
“I had a very good weekend.”
“I thought you had Lucy on Saturday.”
“I did. We had a great time at the park. But the smile is from the awesome sex I had on Friday night after you didn’t show. And then had again last night.” He nearly fell over when Chanda called Sunday afternoon to invite him over.
“Not that it’s a competition, but the last time I had sex was Sunday morning, so I guess you win.”
Doug had definitely won.
On Friday night, Chanda took him home to her warehouse loft. It was huge, but filled with half-finished sculptures. The two bedrooms were small in comparison to the rest of the space, but there was a bed, and that was all that had mattered once they got inside. Which wasn’t easy.
It had taken longer than it should have to open the door, but he couldn’t keep his lips off her, and she wasn’t able to put the key in the lock when his face was stuck to hers.
Eventually, they got in and the clothes came off. He followed her up the stairs to her room and there he lost track of the sounds and the feelings. He never understood the hype about chemistry. He assumed it was something people made up to get out of a relationship. After all, his ex had told him that very thing. “We don’t have any chemistry.”
But it wasn’t hype. It was real, and he had tons of it with Chanda. The reason he’d never understood it before was because he had never truly experienced it. Now he had.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had sex with Julie, his ex, more than once in a row. Maybe their honeymoon? He thought he was too old for multiple sessions. He was wrong. He just needed the proper motivation.
Chanda provided plenty of motivation.
Unfortunately, his stellar mood was cut short when Randy called a meeting.
“I think we have more meetings about work, than we work,” he whispered to Grayson as they took their seats in the conference room.
“I think you’re right.”
“First thing. The Knott account needs a new home.” Everyone groaned, knowing it had been passed around like a plague. The owner was a crabby bastard who was never happy with anyone. “Lester is leaving and I’m not going to turn this mess over to someone new. So who wants it?”
Doug was careful not to make eye contact.
“Give it to Doug. He’s used to getting his ass handed to him,” Reynolds joked.
“Great, Doug. Thanks for volunteering,” Randy said, and flipped the page on his tablet like it was a done deal. Doug might have stood up to them, but he had the fight beaten out of him years ago by his ex-wife. He’d learned it was just easier to go with the flow and not make a fuss.
The meeting went on like all the rest. Randy wanted to keep everyone in the loop. Apparently, they were moving one of the account managers up to a senior auditor position.
“So if you have any suggestions regarding the open position, let me know. We’ll be conducting interviews next week.”
They were dismissed shortly after, but as he waited to walk out with Gray, his friend had stopped to offer a name.
“Alyssa Sinclair.”
Doug frowned as they went back to their offices.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re already sleeping with her—and living with her. Now you want to work with her too? You shouldn’t put your meat where you get your bread.”
“What?” Gray chuckled.
“It’s a saying.” Something his father had said.
“You get a sandwich when you put meat and bread together. Sandwiches are awesome.”
Doug hoped for Grayson’s sake, this turned out to be as great as a sandwich.
* * * *
By the third night of living with Alyssa, her screaming no longer had him running to her rescue. Though it was difficult to fall back to sleep when he knew she was probably lying in her bed with the light on trying to convince herself she was safe.
“You look like hell,” Doug said Friday morning as Gray walked into his office. “Is it a good kind of hell or a bad kind?”
Before Gray had a chance to answer, he was interrupted by a tapping on the door. Alyssa was standing there with a paper bag.
“Hey,” he greeted her with a tired smile.
“Hi. You were running late and I realized you left your wallet. So it’s in here with the lunch I made you. Mainly because I noticed there was no cash in your wallet.” She smiled and held out the bag.
“Were you looking in my wallet for a finder’s fee?” he asked.
“Something like that.” She laughed and Doug coughed, calling attention to himself.
“Oh. Alyssa, this is Doug. Doug, this is Alyssa.”
“Alyssa. Very nice to meet you,” Doug said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Nice to meet you too. I have to get back downstairs. See you later. Have a nice day.”
“You too. Do you want to meet at the bar after work?” he suggested.
“Sure.”
“Text me when you’re leaving.”
“Will do.” With that, she was gone.
“Uh-hum.” Doug fake coughed with a grin on his face. “Are you guys dating?”
“No.” He hadn’t explained the situation to Doug, mainly because he was hoping the situation would change back to sleeping together.
“She brought you your wallet. She brought you lunch, and she is meeting you after work. I’m pretty sure that’s dating.”
“No. She’s my roommate. We’re not having sex.” Grayson said, wishing it wasn’t true.
“But you said you had sex on Sunday morning.”
“Right.”
“It wasn’t with her?”
“It was. But we’re not having sex now that she’s moved in.”
“I need to go. This is weird.” Doug left the office while Grayson laughed.
He sent Alyssa a text while he ate his lunch, thanking her for the awesome sandwich. Made from meat and bread.
She texted back a smiley face, which made him chuckle. He had to admit, it did feel a lot like dating.
* * * *
At one-thirty, Alyssa received a call from Martin Hasher, the Hasher in Hasher and Borne. She assumed he’d dialed the wrong extension, but answered using her professional voice.
“Alyssa Sinclair, how may I help you?”
“Hi, Alyssa. Would you have a moment to come up to my office in about ten minutes?”
She still thought he had the wrong extension, but he had clearly said her name. He had to have meant her.
“Uh, yes. Of course. I’ll be right up.”
“Thank-you.”
“Shit.” She hung her head as soon as the receiver hit the cradle. Had he seen her dropping off lunch in Grayson’s office? Did he know they were living together? Was he going to tell her company policy forbade coworkers from living together? She was going to end up like Kenley. Out on her ass without so much as a reference. “Shit,” she repeated and picked up a notebook to head upstairs to her doom.
She waited in the guest chair outside his office for twenty minutes, making sure her irritation didn’t show on her face. It was as bad as a doctor appointment when they say to show up fifteen minutes before your appointment, and then you end up waiting thirty minutes past the appointment before you’re called inside.
“Ms. Sinclair?”
“Yes.” She sprang up from the seat and smiled, her internal ranting forgotten.
“Please come in. Sorry for making you wait.”
“No problem.” See? I’m accommodating. Please don’t fire me.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “I’ve asked you to come up today for an impromptu interview. I have your employee file so I know the basics, but I wanted to discuss the possibility of moving you up to an account manager position.”
She pressed her lips together to keep her mouth from falling open or shouting her excitement. She couldn’t believe this was finally happening. She’d put her name in for job after job, and hadn’t gotten a minute with the CEO. Now here she was interviewing for…
For a job she hadn’t even known was open. She checked the job listing every day. Nothing had been posted for an account manager. She hadn’t put in for the position. Why would he be considering her?
She hoped the answer was that they’d noticed how many times she’d applied in the past and decided to save time, but she doubted that was the case.
“The first issue would be to make sure you have a desire to make a change or an interest in the account manager position.” Ah ha. They would have known she was interested in making a change if they had reviewed her previous inquires. “I see you’re qualified, and I spoke to your supervisor to get her input.”
“She suggested me for the job?” Alyssa was blown away. The woman wasn’t nearly as awful as the manager before her, but Liss never got the feeling Millicent would want to help her get ahead. Especially since Alyssa was doing so much of her work.
“No.” He flipped through the papers in front of him to find the answer. “It was Grayson Hollinger.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, letting that information soak in. “Yes, I do have a desire to move up in the company. I’m very interested in hearing more about the account manager position.”
“Good. It’s always nice to be able to hire from within when we have the opportunity.” She wondered if they’d only taken on this strategy because they had run out of family members.
They went on with the interview. He asked questions and she knocked them out of the park despite not having had the chance to prepare. It was probably better this way. An ambush interview meant there was no time to worry or panic about the appointment. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Grayson’s involvement.
Her mind was too busy acing the interview to spend brain power on her reaction to his interfering. She’d decide later.
“Well, I think that’s all I need. We’ll be making our decision and letting everyone know by next Wednesday. Thank you for your time.”
“Thank you for speaking with me.” They shook hands and once she was in the elevator heading back down to her floor, her knees began trembling. She was thankful for the delayed reaction.
She was useless the rest of the afternoon. She found herself staring off into space imagining what it would be like to have this new job. Not to mention the extra money.
When it was time to go, she sent Grayson a text:
Heading out. See you at MacGregor’s.
Right behind you.
She waited for him outside the pub, still cycling through an endless array of emotions. When he walked up with the big smile she picked the first emotion and went with it.
“What have you done?” she snapped, knocking the smile right off his face.
* * * *
Grayson stared at her, stunned. “What do you mean?” he asked, feeling like he was being led into a trap.
“I had an interview today with Martin Hasher for a position I didn’t even know was available.”
“Really? That’s great. I hope you get it.”
“So I can work with you? It’s not enough that we live together, now we must spend every second of the workday together as well?”
“We wouldn’t be working together, Liss. I might occasionally have questions and need to see some of your reports, but for the most part, I don’t interact with account managers.” Was she angry that he’d tried to help? “They asked us if we knew anyone internally who would be good for the position. I gave them your name. If you’re not interested, you can pass. I know you’ve been trying to move up so I thought I’d throw your name in the ring.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to get your hopes up. Randy Tabor is notorious for hiring his friends and family members. If he went that route, I didn’t want you to be disappointed. I wasn’t sure he’d even give Martin your name.”
She twisted her lips to the side and nodded.
“Thank you.”
He stood very still, unsure if this was a trap.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were trying to control where I lived and worked.”
Was this her issue with relationships? Had someone tried to control her? He couldn’t imagine Alyssa putting up with that.
“I’m not trying to control you. Was that a problem with someone in the past?” he asked, unable to help himself.
“No. But I’ve always been independent.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” He let the sarcasm ooze as he opened the door to the pub. The air conditioning rushed out, hitting him in the face.
There were two seats together at the bar, so he helped her get settled and then sat next to her. It was a different bar, but it felt very similar to the night they’d met. The night they first had sex.
He let out a disappointed sigh.
“Startin’ early?” Mac said as he put coasters down in front of them. He had a Scottish accent that made it difficult to understand what he said after a few drinks.
“On the way home. Mac, this is my roommate Alyssa. Liss, this is Mac, my favorite bartender in the city.”
“She’s a fine bit prettier than your old roommate.”
“Yes,” Grayson allowed.
“What’s your pleasure?” Mac asked Alyssa.
“For some strange reason I feel like a Scotch,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m celebrating, so give me the good stuff.”
“Aye, this one’s a heartbreaker, Gray. You’re in for it,” the bartender warned, giving Alyssa a wink. He brought their drinks and went to help the regulars at the other end of the bar.
“Starting with the hard stuff?” Gray asked looking down at her drink.
“I was hoping it would help me sleep.”
“You still don’t want to tell me what your nightmares are about? It might help to talk about it. Take the power away from your subconscious.” She raised a brow at him and he shrugged. “My older sister is a psychiatrist. Stuff rubs off.”
She took a sip of her drink and let out a big sigh.
“I dream that a man is attacking me.”
“I kind of gathered that by the way you kick and hit, and yell things like ‘No!’ and ‘Get off me!’ Who’s the guy?”
She shook her head and looked away.
“I don’t know. I can’t see his face, he’s wearing a—I can’t see.” It was obvious by her body language she didn’t want to talk about it, so he changed the subject.
He didn’t know what she needed from him, so he backed off.
Since she was a lightweight and her drink was kicking her ass, he bought them dinner. When they’d finished eating, he helped her up to their apartment.
She fell asleep on the sofa while he watched TV. She jumped when he woke her up to go to bed.
“You seem pretty sleepy, maybe tonight will be the night,” Grayson encouraged as he left her by her door. “Sleep tight.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Despite their wishes, Grayson was awoken by the screaming at 12:06 a.m. He sat up and waited until it stopped, then lay back down wishing he could do something, but he was powerless to help.
His door opened and the light from the hall illuminated Alyssa’s silhouette in the doorway. She just stood there.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Would you mind…would it be okay if I stayed with you?” she asked. Her voice sounded so sad he wouldn’t have been able to turn her away even if he’d wanted to. He didn’t want to.
“Sure.” He slid over and she climbed in next to him. He draped his arm over her waist as she snuggled up against him, her back against his chest. His face was near her hair and he closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. He could do this. Casual.
They both fell asleep and slept peacefully the rest of the night.
* * * *
Doug frowned when he walked into MacGregor’s on Friday evening and found two new people behind the bar. When he’d left Chanda’s place last Sunday, they didn’t have future plans. He’d been so absorbed in his post-sex high that he hadn’t thought to ask her schedule.
“What can I get you?” the younger male bartender asked.
“Uh, is Chanda working tonight?” Maybe she would be coming in later.
“No. She’s off tonight.”
“Oh. I’ll have a beer.” He pointed to the brew list and tapped his fingers as the guy went to get it. Mac noticed him and came closer.
“You’re Doug?” His accent was so thick it took a second to piece it together.
“Yes. I’m Doug.”
“Chanda isn’t working tonight.”
“Yeah. He told me.”
“Did she give you her number?” Mac tilted his head in confusion.
“She did. I just wasn’t sure if I should bother her.”
Mac’s face broke out in a wide grin.
“Nah, you probably shouldn’t bother her.”
“So you’re saying I should call her?” Doug asked as Mac walked away laughing. Weren’t bartenders recognized for their ability to give their patrons good advice? Maybe not in Scotland.
Doug looked down at his phone and sighed.