Page 110 of Breaking Point
Grayson steps forward, lowering his head closer to mine. As he does, his cologne brushes along my senses, melting some of the coldness that captured my heart. “Please stand up. I want to see whose jersey you’re wearing.”
“I’m wearing my jersey. I bought it at the stands,” I explain, standing, because I find I can’t tell him no when he speaks so softly.
He opens his mouth to speak, but then his jaw practically unhinges. The table bursts into laughter so loud I hide whatever is on my back by leaning against the booth and locking my eyes on Grayson, somehow feeling as if he’s my safe space in all this despite him starting it.
Kieran slides into the booth where I was seated a second ago with a wink. “I’m flattered, B, but I think Grayson is better suited.”
My cheeks are flaming. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“How long have you been walking around with that on?” Grayson asks, his voice dangerously low.
Shrugging, I say, “Since the game ended. I got it as a victory jersey.”
Grayson pinches the bridge of his nose as another round of laughter starts up. Inhaling a deep breath, he spins me, placing my back against his front as he wraps his thick arms around my torso. For a moment, my breath catches, the ruckus of the bar fading as Grayson’s warmth seeps into my core.
My heart is hammering wildly as he lowers his mouth to my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my body. “Walk forward for me, Bella,” he whispers.
Swallowing thickly, I do as he says, for once in my life my body listening to someone’s command besides my own. He steers me through the crowd, not getting into conversation with anyone.
As he nears the bar, he calls something over his shoulder and then opens a door that leads to an office. The moment the door closes behind us, we’re plunged into silence, the music and laughter from the bar nothing but a dull thrum, only our heavy breathing filling the air.
I’ve never felt so aware of someone in my life, and yet with Grayson, it’s a constant.
As he takes a step back, my body leans with him until I almost topple over trying to seek his warmth again. His large hands gently rest on the dip of my waist to steady me. But they’re there and gone, and a short while later, I’m stunned by a camera flash. Spinning, I find Grayson holding up his phone with a picture of my back. Showing the name sprawled across my shoulders.
Gasping, my hands smack over my mouth. “No wonder he winked at me!”
Grayson grimaces. “Whoever sold you Kieran’s jersey was trying to fuck with you. Most girlfriends and wives wear the jersey of their partner.”
“And here I am walking around oblivious that your best friend’s name is on my back.”
A small breathy wheeze leaves him, the only warning before Grayson doubles over with laughter. The sound of his deep chuckle has my own smile lifting and a laugh drifting from my mouth.
“He’s never going to let this go, is he?”
“Nope,” Grayson says, popping thepas he wipes tears from the corner of his eyes.
I throw my hands in the air. “What the hell am I supposed to do now? I don’t want to go back out there.”
Grayson shakes his head as another chuckle falls from his lips. “It’s fine, Bella.”
“No, it isn’t!”
“No, it’s not, but it will be fine,” he says.
I’m about to ask how but Grayson’s hands drift to the edge of his shirt a moment before he lifts, pulling the dark gray T-shirt over his head.
Every word that was on the tip of my tongue ceases to exist.
Grayson is standing in the dark office,shirtless, his muscles rippling as he breathes a little faster than before.
My mouth is dry.
My hands are sweating.
And I cannot stop staring at my boss wishing he would do despicable things to me.
“Your turn,” he says gruffly, his voice suddenly thick.
