Page 33 of Mr. Green
Paige: Scarlett needs some *eggplant emoji*
I let out a deep breath. My friends are nuts. I text a letter back to Scarlett and put my phone down. I don’t want to be rude to Grant. My head turns, looking over the surroundings to see if anyone with dark hair, sunglasses, and a hat on are in the vicinity. I don’t see anyone suspicious. Hopefully, said person went and took a nap.
“Everything okay?” Grant asks.
“Yup. My friends were just texting. This is a nice place.”
“I thought you’d like it. Get whatever you’d like. My treat.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I brought my wallet.”
“You shouldn’t have. Your wallet is no good around me. It’s basically just a bunch of paper and cardboard in there as far as I’m concerned.”
The idea of being taken care of is new. Ryan and I would split everything from rent, to groceries, to utility bills, to eating out. Actually, now that I’m thinking of it, I don’t know if split is the right word. If I would offer to pay, he’d let me. I would offer most times since I didn’t mind. At the time I thought Ryan and I were splitting things, but looking back, I probably paid for at least three quarters of everything we shared. Grant and I aren’t even a thing, but every time we’re together, he insists on taking care of the bill. Taking care of me.
I’m not sure how to feel about it. Does he not see me as an equal or able to take care of myself? Maybe he’s just being a gentleman. I’ve always liked the idea of chivalry, but when it’s up in my face, it’s making me worried I’m not contributing and he’ll expect me to pay him back in other ways. I’m not going to kiss him, so he’ll have to get that idea out of his head as soon as possible.
“I’m not kissing you or having sex with you just because you’re getting lunch,” I blurt out. I bet I’m as red as a lobster.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Sunshine. Getting the bill is what a gentleman does; he’s supposed to. I make more than enough. I don’t want you to worry about anything, so I’d like to take care of it. No strings attached.”
“Is it like a penis flex thing?”
He almost spits out his drink. “Uh-hmm. No, it’s like a, ‘I care about you and want to show it,’ kind of thing.”
I bite my bottom lip. “So, hypothetically, if you were to get married, you’d want the woman to do the houseworkand have babies. Would you go all caveman? Back to the dark ages?”
“You curious about my future wife? Do you think it’s you?” He raises his eyebrow.
I shake my finger side to side in front of my face. “No, no, no. That’s not what I said.”
“You seem rather intrigued.”
I’m sure I’m competing with a tomato—my face heats up like it’s boiling on a stove. “I said hypothetically.”
He smirks. “If my wife wanted to stay with the kids, I think that’s nice. If she wants to work, we’ll hire someone. If she doesn’t have time to clean, I’ll get a housekeeper. It’s not what’s expected of her, it’s what I’d like to give her.”
“Okay, but you said you didn’t like the women you were with because they only wanted what you could give them.”
“Yeah, because the emotional stuff was missing. There were no casual touches throughout the day, or kisses in public, or even a thank you. They just expected I would pay for things they wanted and took advantage of it. I want a connection, not to just be a paycheck. I don’t mind buying them things, but I want there to be something more—something shown by their love and appreciation.”
My heart is melting. I think Grant is just as weary about relationships as I am. He’s looking for love and connection, not a piece of ass. He’s willing to put his heart on his sleeve and continue looking for his special person even though he hasn’t had any luck. I’m looking for—well, I haven’t thought about it in a while. But what Grant is telling me sounds really nice. Someone at least recognizing what they love about you and being there for you, sharing a life together. Exactly what I’ve always dreamed of.
It could be all words, but he has shown a lot of caring action, so I don’t think he’s lying. I can’t help but lean into the guy in front of me, realizing my heart’s defenses towards him are hardly there.
Chapter 22
Lana
Ioffered to pay again at lunch, but Grant insisted. He walked me back to my hotel room and then walked away without trying to kiss me or come in. The whole group met up for dinner and now we’re club hopping on this stupid joint bachelor and bachelorette party. Scarlett and Matt didn’t want to have only one place to celebrate so club to club we go. It feels incomplete without those dick straws. Not that I would use them, but Paige would be all over that shit.
It has been a fun night. Scarlett, Paige, and I are dancing our asses off. The latest club is a tiki hut looking bar and dance club. It has the dried palm leaves creating a canopy over the bar, fake tiki posts, and those tiki masks posted on the walls. We came in for the mai tais which are buy one, get one. Not that I’m drinking them. I haven’t had a drop to drink all night.
It's turning out to be a good cardio workout. Matt is dancing with Scarlett, not leaving her side in every club we go to. This one is mostly dark, with the typical rainbow lighting filling up the walls. Today’s hits are playing with an upbeat tempo. Paige has found some poor soul to dance with. She’ll probably ditch him before the night ends.
Grant is obviously here too. He’s drinking in a corner somewhere. Not that I’m keeping tabs—well, I’m nottryingto keep tabs. Every time I look over to him, he’s staring at me. At the dinner table, I’d look up and he’d be looking at me. When I look across the bar, he finds my eyes. When I turn around during a dance move, he’s watching. It gives me chills every time. I’ve got my back turned to him right now.I can’t take another stolen glance between us. Now he can’t see me. Ha.
Then I hearthesong. The stupid song, Ryan and I shared. Whenever it comes on, it takes me back to all the good moments we had together. The first time it played was when we saw each other across the room at the restaurant for his alumni gathering. All of the moments where I’d catch a glimpse of the life we could’ve shared together hit me at once. We were so happy—until he left. The empty apartment drowns my thoughts.