Page 4 of Heartstrings & Hijinks

Was someone coming to get me? Or perhaps I needed to go home. I should just go home.

I moved to stand, but then a hand landed on my shoulder, pushing me back down.

“You’re waiting for your ride, Evan.” The lady—Celia? Cicily? Cynthia?— patted my cheek affectionally. “Just stay put, okay? Last time you tried to walk around, you tripped over your own feet.”

“Oh, that’s right.” It was all coming back to me now. She had my phone. “And you called Hot Gregory or not Gregory?”

The lady chuckled. “Yes, Gregory’s coming to pick you up.”

“Don’t call him Greg,” I said. “He doesn’t like when you call him Greg.”

“I won’t call him Greg.”

I knew the moment he walked into the room—just as I always did—Gregory Alton had a commanding presence, even in my drug-addled brain. My gaze drifted over to him, then slid past him as the room spun, but I circled back around quick enough, and his muscular build came into view. Whoever tailored his suits needed a raise. They sure knew how to frame his shoulders and lean hips perfectly.

Was I spinning on the barstool or was the room spinning?

Was this going to have any lasting effects?

“Please don’t go out with that guy again,” I said to Cynthia. I was sure her name was something with a C. “He’s not a good person. Promise me you won’t go out with him again.”

Cece or Cynthia held my arm, and that was when the room slowed. So it was the barstool spinning. “I promise I won’t go out with him again. I wasn’t even going out with him. He just offered to buy me a drink. I didn’t realize he was going to order one while I was in the restroom.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said.

“Evan?”

I twisted my head to stare at Gregory. I didn’t get to look at him very often anymore, since he was my boss. Well, he was a boss at the office where I worked. Technically he wasn’t my direct boss. Either way, I didn’t get to stare at him often enough. He was on a totally different floor, and I never saw him.

“I thought I said not to call Hot Gregory?”

Cece looked at me, a question in her eyes. Or maybe it was the room spinning again.

“You said call Gregory.”

“Greg, my brother. This is not Greg. This is Hot Gregory. You can’t call him Greg. I shouldn’t call him Hot Gregory.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking back at Gregory. “He just said Gregory and I found the first one listed.”

“It’s fine. I’m happy to help. Evan?” Gregory put a hand to my cheek. It was warm, and I leaned into it, nuzzling against his palm. Holy strong hands. Did he moisturize? They were soft, but firm. And how did he smell so good? “How are you? Are you all right?”

“Your hands are rougher than I thought they would be, but they’re still soft. How do you do that? They’re warm too.”

I grabbed his hand and held it against my face, then let it trail down my torso. Gregory snatched it away as if it burned him.

I swayed, and he caught me. This time his big hands were on my shoulders.

“Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t think anyone’s at my home,” I said. “Sawyer had to work late. Why didn’t I call Sawyer?” Calling my actual roommate would have made a ton more sense than calling Hot Gregory.

“You will be going to my home.” Gregory wrapped his arm around me. He turned to Cynthia. Cece. Whatever her name was. How many people were around me? “You assure me that he is well? Nothing happened to him? He was cleared by the EMT?”

“Oh, yeah. He just drank the drink down so that I wouldn’t have it. The creep has been arrested. I’m sure the police will want to get a hold of Evan once he’s slept this off, but they’ve said it usually takes about twenty hours for him to feel back to normal.”

“Did they recommend a hospital?”

“No. Not for such a mild dose. As long as he drinks water and gets some sleep, he’ll bounce back quickly.”

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