Page 82 of Lilah

Within twenty minutes of the time we kissed, he called it a mistake and I felt like crying for a week. I just don't want that to happen again.

I mosey/limp into the bathroom and come to the conclusion that if this place is Grey's, then he's got some dosh darnmoney.

Can owning a single restaurant really give you all this? I might have to become an owner.

Oh my gosh, what if a stripper bar could get meevenmore?

I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a wild mess. My blonde locks stick up with static and quite frankly, I just look like a lion.

After controlling the front, I turn to look at the back. My eyes catch my butt and the way my dress is slightly bundled in the back leaving the bottom of my cheeks fully open for viewing. Grey's viewing.

I feel my cheeks burn bright and I fix it quickly like that will make some sort of difference. He already saw it.

I fix the back of my hair, combing through it with my fingers. I look at the nice granite sink in front of me and spot a toothbrush in its package.

What a doll, getting me a toothbrush out.

I brush my teeth and wash my face before seeing the obvious bruise on my cheekbone.

"Crud," I curse, looking around like he's going to have foundation in here or something. Of course, I find nothing.

Just keep your head down.

I tinkle before washing my hands and exiting the bathroom. I put my brace on that was sitting on his dresser then I walk to the door.

I poke my head out and there's a pretty friggin big hallway. I go left because why not? Not really any pictures are on the walls and I feel like it's a little bare.

I count a good place where there could be a little table with some flowers on it. I should be an interior designer.

I take a couple of turns, come across one living room with no one in it and so I turn around and go the other way. This must be an apartment or something.

I finally come to a living room that actually looks like someone has been in it. The television is on and playing some sort of show.

I walk further into it and I see a huge kitchen to my left. Bear comes running at me full force and I almost brace for impact before Grey whistles one short time and he's halting.

"He's a puppy; he's hyper," he comes into view from the kitchen. Just seeing him makes this place almost homely. And Bear of course.

"How old is he?" I pet his humongous head.

"Nine months," he looks down at him, his eyes soft. I nearly squeal at the thought of Grey being soft for a puppy. I can't imagine he's only nine months being as big as he already.

I look at the clock over his shoulder and see that it's nine-thirty. That's later than I usually wake up but I'm not complaining, I slept so well.

I see him take a step closer to me and I turn my attention back to him. His eyes are set harshly, his jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed pretty angrily.

"Grey-" I begin to question him but I stop when his strong hands grip my face. I feel myself heat up when his finger brushes over the bruise on my cheekbone softly.

"Where thefuckdid that come from?" his voice rumbles and I search my brain for a lie.

"I sleep wild, I probably hit myself in the face," I shrug, keeping my voice from shaking. I'm not sure it's possible to hit yourself in the face hard enough to get a bruise like mine but whatever.

Thank gosh I had makeup on it yesterday so that my lie fits.

He doesn't really look like he believes it.

"That wouldn't leave a bruise like that," his voice stays tense and strained.

"Well, I'm just super duper strong," I assure him, "Imagine the damage I could do to other people."