Chapter 5

Promptly at ten, I stepped past the bouncer. It was so loud I couldn't see-my eyes vibrated from the beat of the music. I loved Cravin' Melon, but at that decibel level, it was hard to tell it was music anymore. I was already desperate for a drink, my mouth crying out for a Diet Coke. The bartenders were lenient about serving underage drinkers, but it wasn't my thing.

I gave alcohol a fair shot; that's what kids in college did. But I never took to it. I preferred marijuana-it knocked off the edge and gave me the ability to relax. And it counteracted the cocaine I used during the day-my illegal Adderall. My freshman year had hit me hard: the hours at Walton's, classes, schoolwork...all the things I submerged myself in after Will and the trials. There weren't enough hours in the day to add in sleeping and eating. What had started as a pick-me-up had quickly become routine. By that point, it was a daily supplement I needed in order to focus, and I used it the way most people would a cup of coffee to enable me to go days with little or no sleep.

Lynn walked up behind me and gave me a hug.

"Have you seen Jenny?" I practically screamed in her face to make sure she could hear me.

"She's up at the front of the stage drooling over Doug Jones. Poor thing, he doesn't have a clue who she is. I don't have the heart to tell her, though."

Dismissing Jenny-and Doug Jones-I asked her about the note. I dug it out of my pocket and handed it to her. "Do you know who GD is?"

She took the piece of paper from me. Reading the note, a smile spread across her face, answering my question. She shook her head like she couldn't believe "GD" had slipped me a message.

"I found it on my windshield this afternoon outside the office when I got back from class."

"I told you that you were being followed. You said you weren't interested. So...are you interested now?"

"I'm interested in knowing who's leaving notes on my car. I am not interested in 'hooking up' with whoever is doing it." I couldn't add anything else to the daunting list of things I'd already taken on.

"Gray Dearsley-the weekend shift supervisor. Honestly, Annie, he's smoking hot. He's tried to weasel all kinds of information about you out of me, but beyond the basics, I didn't tell him much. I know he's been tailing you at the DC." I wasn't sure what she was talking about. I just told her I wasn't interested in acting on anything; I only wanted to know who it was.

"Have I met him? I think I'd remember a name like Gray."

"I doubt it. His shift is the only one not involved in your project, so there's no reason to involve him in anything you're doing. He's usually only at the facility Friday through Sunday, and he's rarely out on the floor-unless he's stalking you." She shrugged like it was unimportant before going back to her table.

My friend led me back to where she'd been sitting, but Jenny stopped me. She was swooning and pulled me toward the stage. Glancing over at Lynn, I motioned that I was following Jenny. Lynn held up her hand and pointed to her phone.

Jenny was blitzed, gazing up at the stage like her soul resided in front of the microphone. Bless her heart; she was clueless. She handed me what I assumed was a cigarette, but upon inhaling, I got far more than a little tobacco and was quickly back to my drug-induced dreamland. Only Jenny would risk smoking pot in public knowing if she got caught, she would go to jail. Cottonmouth was getting the best of me, and I still hadn't gotten the drink I needed when I walked in.

In a necessary attempt to find liquid to quench my thirst, I turned from the stage and my delusional best friend in search of a waitress or the bar. Pushing through the horde of people, I attempted to get Lynn's attention to see if she wanted anything, but she had her phone stuck to one ear, and her finger was in the other trying to block out the noise. With her gaze fixed on me and a mischievous look in her eyes as she talked, she beckoned me and then put her phone back in her purse.

The pushing and bumping of the surrounding crowd were enough to send me into an anxious spiral. People were oblivious to everyone around them, only focused on their own conversation as they moved around the dance floor. I was athletic, toned; I should have been able to hold my own in a tight situation, but I felt like a beach ball bounced around in a crowd at a concert.

It might have been easier to reach my friend crawling on the floor or surfing the crowd, but when I finally got back to our table, Lynn looked around like she expected someone. "Who are you looking for?" I asked, scanning the crowd. I opted to sit and wait for a waitress instead of trying to make it another fifty feet to an equally crowded bar.

"No one in particular, just looking," she responded.

Liar. Luckily for her, I didn't care.

Then I saw him.

The guy on the forklift walked through the door. He was several inches taller than most people in the crowd. I was mesmerized, and everything in the room stopped moving. As I watched him, the sounds became silent, and I couldn't steer my eyes away. He exuded confidence. This wasn't a man who chased women-they chased him.

"Holy shit, Lynn, what's he doing here?" I pointed over toward the guy I'd seen earlier at the DC as she flagged him down.

Waving like an idiot and grinning like a jackass, she finally got his attention. The instant he made eye contact with her, his gaze shifted, and I found myself stunned by his sexy-as-hell, cocky grin.

"What the hell?" I freaked out the closer he got. I sensed the fear creeping into my features; my eyes widened with each step he took in our direction. Holy mother of God, I had to get my shit together. His swagger, the quiet confidence in his stare, those gorgeous pools of blue-suddenly, I was a lusty teenager back in high school.

Lynn scooted over, making room for him at the booth. I sat there like a total moron with my mouth ajar, staring at the two of them. Drool would have formed at the edge of my lips if I'd ever gotten that drink, but luckily, the cottonmouth was saving me from utter embarrassment. Lynn said something to him, but I couldn't make out what. The music was too loud, and she didn't want me to overhear her. He leaned into her, eyes diverted, but whatever she said shifted his gaze to me, and he shot me that quirky grin. My panties were drenched-damn traitorous body. With just a look, a crinkle of his eyes, and a curl of his lip, this guy made me want to rush him to the bathroom to rip off his clothes and take advantage of every inch of him. Everything about him screamed trouble-he would absolutely wreak havoc on my already chaotic life.

As he straightened up, he extended his hand over the table. Knocked out of my lust-induced daze, I realized he was introducing himself, but I hadn't heard anything he'd said. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. What did you say your name was?"

He pulled my hand, forcing me closer, so I had to lean over the table. I could feel myself sinking into the deep blue ocean of his eyes. "Gray Dearsley."

The warmth of his breath on my skin sent a chill down my neck, affecting me in ways no man should. His voice in my ear was a song of seduction, and my heart sang the unfamiliar lyrics. The hint of a Southern drawl, and the deep rumble in his velvety baritone sent a warm rush throughout my entire body. He didn't take his eyes from mine or relent in his silent assessment-I felt naked, completely exposed, as if he could read every intimate thought that passed through me. I offered him my name, "Annie Teasman," but he appeared to know it already.

Our silent evaluation continued as I slowly sat back in the booth, taking my hand with me. Drawing the look out as long as possible without appearing to gawk, I peeked over at Lynn, giving her a smirk that said, I'm going to kick your ass before the night's over.

I tried like hell to remain calm, not let him know how affected I was by him, but the look on his face told me he was already well aware. Jenny saved me from myself when she bopped up to the table from out of nowhere-full of energy and life. I couldn't help but giggle when she caught Gray's attention. She was barely five feet tall with a smile the size of Texas and the personality to match. Her long, tie-dyed crinkle skirt, fitted tank top, Birks, and enough hemp jewelry to start her own store, were her typical garb, but to strangers, she stood out.

She didn't acknowledge Gray or Lynn before she focused on me, whining over the music, "Annie, come dance with me."

I shook my head, but Gray seized the opportunity. Using my friends against me, he grabbed my hand across the booth and pulled me out of my seat and into the crowd of people. With his fingers lacing through mine, he never gave me the opportunity to protest. His grasp swallowed mine whole, the warmth of his hand unfamiliar yet welcoming. Nervous as hell, I prayed my palm didn't sweat in his. I followed him without hesitation, trying to avoid bumping into bodies as we snaked through the swarm on the dance floor.

Reaching the middle of the room, he stopped as the song changed, and Cravin' Melon welcomed him to the group of people moving together with the first slow song they'd played since he walked in the door. The stage lights dimmed, offering a more romantic atmosphere while the band played a ballad. I turned toward him, panic filling my wide eyes, and I glanced around him to Lynn and Jenny. It was hard to see them through the people packed in like sardines and the dimly lit space. Both were close by, but neither one was helping a girl out-bitches. I tried to focus on the beat of the base and the hum of the guitar, but my inability to think in this man's presence muffled even the band.

The heat from his body radiated onto mine. I barely reached the top of his shoulders; his height dwarfed me, and I had to crane my neck to stare into his eyes. I couldn't help but notice his forehead glistened from the warmth of the room. He returned my gaze like he could see something beyond my face-quite possibly the sheer terror I felt standing so close to him with Doug Jones's love song serenading us. In the blink of an eye, his attention shifted, and he leaned down, whispering against my ear, "It's just a dance. I won't bite you."

Holy shit. I offered him a shy little smile that seemed to steal his heart as he pulled me into him. Both of my hands rested on his chest, with his on the small of my back. I couldn't help but lose myself in the comfort of his arms, wondering what it would have felt like to be this close without a hundred people around bumping into us. Wrapped in his embrace, I felt safe, protected-a feeling I didn't want to enjoy. I struggled, wanting to memorize every detail of his face, his arms, the way his body felt pressed against mine and knowing I had no business considering any relationship...even casual. But everything about this guy created an internal buzz I couldn't ignore.

Randomly, my finger snaked beneath the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the entirety of a Chinese symbol inked on his bicep. It was the same one I'd noticed at the DC. "What does your tattoo mean?" I had to scream for him to hear me and met his eyes again in question.

He replied, "Mighty Mouse," with a sexy grin and a glimmer in his eye right before he offered me a quick wink. He was playing with me, and for some reason, I found it endearing.

Either he was incredibly fucking gorgeous and oozed sex appeal, or I'd fried my brain with the crap Jenny had been smoking. I knew absolutely nothing about this guy, but I knew somehow, I felt connected to him, and it scared the shit out of me.

He brought me closer, impossibly close. He pressed his body into me-demonstrating how much I affected him. As the song changed, his hands grazed my lower back, rounded the sides, and slid around my hips, coming to rest firmly on my pelvic bones. There was nothing uncomfortable about his touch, but I was painfully aware of exactly where his fingers were. He used the tight grip he had on me to turn my back to his front. Gray ground against me in perfect time with the music-my ass pressed into his groin. The way he moved surprised me; it was sensual, intimate, and erotic. My response time had slightly diminished from intoxication, but I easily followed his lead and allowed him to manipulate my body.

The back of my head rested on his chest, just letting him move, and my hips swayed with his. This was by far the most erotic dance I'd ever participated in fully clothed. Feeling the beat and him behind me, he spoke, but his mouth was too far away and the music too loud for me to hear. However, the vibrations in his chest affected me just the same. My hands traced the outside of his arms, my nails softly grazing his skin, hoping it might relieve a bit of the sexual tension threatening to drown both of us.

My mind had been consumed the last few weeks. My to-do list was always growing, but being near him made it all seem insignificant. I forgot about Walton's and school-for that moment, I was at peace, even with the people gathered around us and music so loud my head felt like it would split wide open.

Time passed with ease and no mention of the changing hour, but I was sweaty, and so was he. Even though our bodies had meshed together for countless songs, I didn't want him to let me go-which was all the more reason I needed to leave. I wasn't ready for this little slice of heaven to disappear. I wanted to cling to it a tad bit longer. Exactly why I needed to go.

He forced me to face him as he broke his hold for the first time all evening.

I stared straight up into his endless blues, and the crowd kept dancing around us, the music kept playing. But we stood still, secluded in our own bubble. I was sure the fear was evident in my eyes-I was fighting this, and he knew he wasn't helping. The little grins, the way he touched me so casually yet so personally-he knew I needed to leave, to call it a night before my head could no longer win the struggle against my naïve heart...or my sex drive. His focus never left me, but his touch moved down toward my ass, which fit perfectly in his hands. The draw between us, the electric current I'd felt yesterday, it was alive and well tonight. The way he looked at me told me he thought I wanted to kiss him, but our first kiss wouldn't be here, not like this.

Gray's hands found their way upward again, landing at the base of my spine. He leaned in, skimming my face with his own to press his lips against my ear. "When can I see you again?"

"I'll be back at the DC on Friday. I'm sure you can find me," I replied with a wink. I forced myself to break away from him and leave the bar alone. He knew I was flirting, daring him to return the sentiment, but he let me go. Hollering at Lynn and Jenny, I said goodbye. Just before I walked out the door, I turned back. I found him standing exactly where I'd left him when I glanced over my shoulder. Watching me. I couldn't help but return his grin when he tilted his head up at me, acknowledging my departure.

This man would be the death of me.