Living together comes much later, but that’s neither here nor there. Besides, there is no parallel universe where I’m living with Grinder in…here. My lip curls at the thought and Psycho growls like the caveman he is, thinking I’m aiming my displeasure at Mac.
“There’s nothing reasonable about this. I’m not having sex with you, Grinder.” Oh God, what if I do and a couple of hours is enough to get me addicted to him? That would be bad.
My last boyfriend betrayed me. He was working for the people trying to kill my best friend. I’m still not over that. Not him, of course. I don’t forgive traitors. But the fact that an entire firm had a hit on Mac. It’s been three months and it still keeps me up at night. It’s insane and I don’t want any part of their schemes and deals. Those are real guns they carry, not TV props.
For fuck’s sake, Mac had to fake her death in order to get rid of her crazy brother. This is not the kind of life I want to be living. Is it exciting? Yes. Does Grinder make my cock swell every time he flirts with me? Also yes. But am I going to voluntarily place myself in the line of danger? Absolutely not.
Sleeping with Grinder would probably melt my brain and I’d be as addicted to him as a junkie to meth. Again, no, thank you.
“Sure you are, Doc. C’mon, it’ll be fun and that way my dick won’t pounce on you like a puppy that hasn’t seen its master for two minutes every time you come back into the room. Call it an act of kindness with the added benefit of getting your mind blown…and other things.”
Does he even listen to himself talk? Who says things like this?
I need to stop his nonsense. No, he needs to stop obsessing over this. It’s not happening.
“I’m not attracted to you, and this—” The entirety of the room erupts in loud, boisterous laughter. And yes, that includes my now-ex best friend and said human meth lab.
“That’s a good one!”
“Someone’s delulu.”
“Oh sweet, summer child.” That comes from Vanessa, the mother hen of this whole house of nut jobs. I respect the hell out of her but…she’s wrong.
I may have bent the rules of my morality once, back when Mac was in a dark place, but the bad boy persona with an insatiable dick isn’t me. Life has plans for me and I intend to fulfill all of my dreams. And I can’t do that if I’m associating myself with known criminals. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Over and over again.
“Look, I get it. You’re afraid of falling in love with me. It happens—a lot, by the way—but I promise to kick you out before feelings come seeping in.” I blink up at Grinder, confused and…nope, that’s it. I’m confused.
“I’m not afraid of falling in love with you, Grinder.” I really am, but after the reactions I just lived through, no way I’m telling them that. “I just don’t have any desire to complicate things.” And that’s the honest truth, right there.
“Well, then. You’re in luck. I’m the least complicated guy there is.” Grinder steps up to me and I swear to the all mighty gods of the universe, my breath hitches at the potent pheromones surrounding him like a cloud of angry locusts. Or maybe that’s just the scent of sex from the very recent, very public orgy he participated in minutes ago.
Cough“Bullshit.”Cough. I have to chuckle at Psycho’s attempt to hide the cursing. Gryffin is barely one. This is overkill.
“Fuck all y’all. This is a conversation between the doc and me.” When Grinder’s light blue eyes land on me, I feel my knees giveout just enough that I decide to sit on the back of the couch. The Brit—I can’t remember his name, there are too many of them—is right next to me wearing a smirk that says we should just have sex and get it over with.
No, sir, we should not.
I am not that kind of man.
“Okay, clearly this is some kind of crazy and I don’t have time for it.” I bend at the waist to kiss Mac on the forehead, ignoring the usual growl from her crazy husband. “I have to pick up Pepper at the vet.”
“Oh no! Poor baby. What happened?” As though summoned from the depths of Hell, two tiny heads pop out of Psycho’s hoodie and look at me. Are they…worried?
I shake my head. No, of course not. That’s ridiculous. They’re rats. Ew. I’m still not on board with the rodent love. Although, when they’re immobile, like this, they look like that cartoon rat that cooks in France and can pass for cute. Maybe.
“He’s old, Mac. He gets sick if you breathe on him wrong.” I used to hate Pepper because he was so territorial about Steve, my dead ex—rest in Hell. Now that I’m his primary person, he has stopped hissing at me every time I get too close so we’ve found a compromise.
“You’re so full of poop. You love that cat.”
“Erm, excuse me. When did this conversation butt me out?” Crap. I didn’t even notice Grinder walking up to us. I can’t deal with him when he’s standing so close.
“I have to go.” I call out to them both, my hand doing an elegant sweep of the room. “Choose another one of these lovely people to satisfy your needs. I’m not him and never will be.”
Grinder cocks his head to the side, blue eyes boring into me like oil drills in the desert. Isn’t he going to say something to keep me from leaving?
“Bye, Spence. Call me and let me know about Pepper.” Ah, Mac and her heart of gold. Well, except when she’s trying to pawn me off to one of her psycho friends.
I walk away while all the eyes that were on me earlier are now busy doing various other things, like drinking and making out. Raising my arm in the air, I wave my goodbyes. As I reach the entrance, open the door, and take a step out, I hear him call out for me.