Not For Me (7 page)

And with that, he left, leaving Kristy alone with her inappropriate thoughts. They involved Grant, a bed, and very little talking. But lots of moaning. And tongue.

She was a terrible friend, lusting after Maya’s date like this.

But wasn’t it a little odd that he’d given her two shoulder massages? That he’d come right over when she had a problem with her light? What about his compliments, the way he teased her? On the other hand, he’d declined a massage and left rather abruptly. Plus he had a date with Maya tomorrow.

Maybe she could play third wheel. Just for the first hour. Maya and Grant hadn’t met before, so wouldn’t it make sense for Kristy to be there since she knew both of them?

If they were hitting it off, she would absolutely leave him alone. But if not…

Had he leaned down when she’d been about to kiss him? Or was that her imagination?

Shortly after getting home, Grant got a call from Maya.

“Nine o’clock tomorrow at O’Malley’s Pub,” she said. “We’ve got a date—a real one.”

“I thought—”

“Kristy wants to tag along for a bit. Says she wants to introduce us in person, see how that date’s going. I think it’s a lame excuse to see you.” Maya lowered her voice. “She’s trying to come between us. You gonna let her?”

“I think I will,” he said. “No offense.”

“None taken. I’m glad, too.”

He worked the following morning. In the afternoon he went to Jon and Sheila’s, where he helped Jon paint the basement. Good busywork to keep his mind off Kristy.

Except that Jon, once he finished talking about Caiden and hockey, wanted to talk about Grant’s upcoming “date,” which Grant had stupidly informed him of the night before.

“We have a bet, Sheila and I.”

Grant dipped the roller into the paint tray and removed the excess paint. “Of course you have a bet.” He started on the back wall.

“Sheila bet against you making this work,” Jon said. “So you gotta do it, man. I’ve got a thousand bucks riding on this.”

“A thousand bucks?”

“It’s our little joke.” Jon stopped painting and turned toward Grant. “Since we have a joint bank account, it doesn’t matter. Really, it’s who gets to cook dinner tomorrow.”

Relationships always had those inside jokes. Grant wanted to have them with Kristy.

Crap
. Good thing there was a drip sheet.

* * * *

After having sushi for dinner, Kristy and Maya got to O’Malley’s at eight thirty and sat at a four-person table adjacent to the bar.

Kristy now regretted her decision to play third wheel. Grant probably thought nothing of her. Just a friend. She was silly to think she was anything more to him. Because if she were, wouldn’t he have done something by now? At the very least, he’d have backed out of this date with Maya.

So when a reasonably attractive man named Brady started chatting her up, Kristy didn’t discourage him. Brady was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans that were a little tighter than men usually wore them, and a black beret. His hair was rather long, and he had a goatee. He was the kind of guy she’d usually date—nothing like Grant.

Brady had a friend with him, who talked to Maya for a few minutes until Kristy mentioned that Maya was meeting a guy any minute. But Brady stayed and sat beside Kristy. He pushed his hair out of his face, stroked his goatee, and raved about the concert he’d been to last night. Some group called the Poisoned Ducklings. “Nobody’s heard of them, but they’re an
experience
.” He was drinking a craft beer called Poisonous Acorn and claimed this was the only bar in Toronto where you could find it.

Kristy had a sip. It tasted like ordinary, cheap beer, but Brady kept going on about the unique undertones of tangerine peel. She wondered why it was called Poisonous Acorn.

“Poison” made her think of Grant—his joke that he’d poison her with his cooking. She had a gulp of her own drink to chase away that silly thought as well as the taste of the awful beer.

“So what do you do?” she asked Brady.

“I’m a PhD student,” he said. “Sociology. I study Canadian versus American coffee-shop culture.”

“Seriously?” Maya said. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m an accountant. The world needs accountants, but it does not need people studying flaky shit like coffee-shop culture.”

Brady gave her a withering look.

Kristy thought it was rather interesting. Brady wasn’t so bad. Why was Maya giving him a hard time?

“Any particular coffee shop you’d recommend in Toronto?” Kristy asked. “I assume you’ve been to lots of them.”

“Perhaps the Poisoned Apple?” Maya suggested. “Kristy and I walked by it a few weeks back. Seems like your kind of thing.”

“Yes! You’ve been there? Isn’t it an
experience
?”

“No, I most certainly have not,” Maya muttered.

“I’ll check it out sometime,” Kristy said.

“We should go together.” Brady put his arm around her, and it was pleasant. Just pleasant. “You must have the Poison Special.”

“What’s in that? Cyanide and anthrax?” Maya said.

Kristy glared at her.

“We’ll see,” she said to Brady.

*

Grant was hopeful when he arrived at the bar ten minutes early. His eyes immediately settled on Kristy, who was wearing a light brown sleeveless shirt, her hair down. She looked absolutely beautiful.

But there was a guy sitting beside Kristy, a little younger and smaller than Grant. And his arm was around her.

Shit
. Grant’s first instinct was to leave. But he would do this—he’d promised. He couldn’t have her think he’d stood Maya up. Gritting his teeth, he made his way over to the table and sat beside his “date,” who looked happy to see him. Kristy offered him a tiny smile, then looked down.

The guy with his arm around Kristy ignored Grant and kept talking. He used words like “psyche” and “existentialism” and “metaphysics.” Repeatedly. He was really on a roll—even Kristy wasn’t getting a word in. So Grant had no chance. He passed the time by looking at Kristy while pretending not to look at her. She fiddled with the straw in her drink; he fiddled with a coaster and bounced his leg. He paid just enough attention to the guy’s monologue to realize he was going on about a
coffee shop
, of all things.

After five minutes, the guy finally introduced himself. “Brady.” He nodded at Grant.

If Kristy was going to break her two-month rule, it ought to be with Grant, not this Brady character, who was obsessed with a coffee shop called the Poisoned Apple. The idiot was also drinking a beer called Poisonous Acorn.

“Kristy and I will leave you two alone for a while.” Brady turned to Kristy. “What about a game of darts?”

She hesitated. “Okay. But I’m terrible.”

“I’ll teach you.”

Great
. Teaching would probably involve touching.

“Sure. Let’s go.” Kristy stood up and headed toward the free dartboard.

Once the woman he wanted and the guy he hated were out of earshot, Grant asked Maya, “What’s the deal with Brady?”

“We just met him twenty minutes ago. He had a friend with him initially, but Kristy made it clear that
I
had a date.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries,” Maya said. “I didn’t like him. Nor do I like Brady.”

Grant looked over at the dartboard. Brady hit the bull’s-eye, then high-fived Kristy. “But what does Kristy think?”

“I hope she’s just trying to make you jealous. But Brady is the kind of guy Kristy would normally date. Maybe she likes him.”

If she was trying to make him jealous, she sure was succeeding.

After buying a beer, Grant had a pleasant enough conversation with Maya for the next little while. It would have been pleasanter if he hadn’t had to watch Kristy play darts with Brady, and if Brady hadn’t kept putting his hands on her. They played for about fifteen minutes before returning to the table.

“Who won?” Maya asked.

“He did,” Kristy said. “You know how terrible I am at darts.”

“There’s a dartboard at the Poisoned Apple,” Brady said. “Isn’t that a brilliant idea, a dartboard in a coffee shop? It’s a great
experience
.”

When Brady used “psyche” for the second time in as many minutes, Grant wished he could shove a poisoned apple up—

Well, into Brady’s mouth.

Brady’s hand moved up Kristy’s side, from her waist to her shoulder, and Grant
really
wished he had such an apple on hand. Preferably one with fast-acting poison. Because he wanted—yearned—to be in Brady’s place. He’d rub his thumb in circles across her shoulder. Then brush his hand back down her curves. Whisper,
Let’s get out of here
.

Instead, Brady whispered something to Kristy. Grant shut his eyes, but then he imagined Brady and Kristy kissing, Brady pushing her down on a bed…

And damn it, Kristy was laughing at whatever that whisper was about. But at least she wasn’t blushing.

“I watched a great movie last night,” Grant said. “Called
Invaded!!
Two exclamation marks, to be clear.
Invaded!
with one exclamation mark is a different movie. Anyway, aliens invade Earth, starting in Shanghai. The special effects are out of this world. The script leaves a little to be desired—there isn’t much dialogue and the plot is a bit thin. Very thin, actually. But the battles! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I love that movie!” Maya said. “I watched it a few weeks ago. The final battle was epic. And the top-secret dwarf army that—”

“Don’t say it,” Grant said with mock urgency. “You don’t want to ruin it for them.”

“Very true. Don’t want to ruin the
experience
. I will say this, though—I’ll never look at bouncy castles the same way again.”

Brady rolled his eyes. “You two belong together. I’m going to get another Poisonous Acorn. Kristy, what do you want?”

“A rum and coke.”

Brady gave Kristy’s shoulder a squeeze, then headed to the bar.

“I actually watched a bank-heist movie last night,” Grant said. He hadn’t felt like sleeping after he got home from Kristy’s.

“I thought you said he was okay,” Maya said to Kristy. “But he’s trying to figure out how to rob a bank. Someday he’ll be on the front page of the paper under the headline, TEN-MILLION-DOLLAR HEIST FOILED. In handcuffs.”

“No, I bet he’d get away with it,” Kristy said. “And besides, seeing your love interest in handcuffs on the front page of the paper is unlikely to happen twice to one woman.”

Nice to know she had confidence in him. And nice to hear her talk—she’d been way too quiet. Not so nice to hear himself described as Maya’s love interest.

“What’s with the bouncy castle?” Kristy asked Maya.

“I have no idea where I was going with that.”

“I’m sure
Brady
watches some interesting movies.” Kristy glared at them.

Brady returned a moment later. “I realized I’ve never heard of this
Invaded!!
movie.”

Of course not. And he was probably the kind of guy who was interested in movies no one had heard of, whether or not they had a top-secret dwarf army.

“It didn’t hit the big theaters,” Grant said.

Now he had Brady’s attention. This could be fun.

But Brady, to his credit, soon figured out that something was amiss. “A small film with a big budget for special effects?”

“He was joking,” Kristy said. “There’s no such movie.”

“Oh,” Brady said. “Ha.” He smiled, then tucked a lock of Kristy’s hair behind her ear.

Something else Grant wished he could do.

“I saw a great indie film last night,” Brady said. “It was about a suicidal brick. Great commentary on existentialism.”

“Really?” Maya said. “Existentialism, huh?”

“Reminds me of the depressed robot in
Hitchhiker’s
.” Grant chugged the last third of his beer.

“Yes,” Brady said. “I thought of that. But this movie was—”

“Less satirical?” Grant suggested.

“That, too.”

Grant wasn’t interested in this suicidal brick. He went to buy a drink for himself and one for Maya and watched Kristy as he waited at the bar. She slipped her arm around Brady and briefly rested her head on his shoulder. Then she fingered his stupid plaid shirt and—

“What can I get for you?”

Grant jumped back from the bar.

Right. Drinks. Of course.

He bought two beers and headed back to the table. Thankfully they were done talking about existentialism, metaphysics, and suicidal building materials. But Kristy and Brady still had their arms around each other. So Grant put a hand on Maya’s shoulder—if Kristy was trying to make him jealous, he’d do the same.

Kristy’s eyes widened—that was good, right?—but then she smiled.
She thinks it’s working out, and she’s glad. Crap
.

“How did you two meet?” Brady nodded at Grant, then Maya.

“Ummm…” Maya began.

“I set them up,” Kristy said brightly. “I saw him in a bookstore and figured he was perfect for her. It’s going well, isn’t it?”

Grant didn’t know what to say. Maya, too, said nothing.

“That’s so sweet of you.” Brady turned to Kristy. And kissed her on the cheek.

No, no, no.

Grant couldn’t watch this anymore. He dropped his hand from Maya and gripped both sides of the chair.

Kristy was his.

Or she should be.

Brady curled a strand of her hair around his finger as he studied her face. The bastard may have stopped talking, but this was even worse. He rested his chin on her shoulder and kissed her neck. Kristy whispered something to him, and they both laughed.

Grant hardly knew what he was doing now.

“Kristy.” He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “I need to talk to you.” He stood up and took a step away from the table.

She shrugged apologetically. “Be right back.”

As soon as she was standing, he grabbed her hand, pulled her toward him, and lifted her up, his hands cupping her ass.

“Grant…”

He wasn’t going to let her say,
I don’t think we should do this
. He closed his mouth over hers and kissed her with everything he had. Hard, urgent kisses at first. But when her lips yielded to his, he opened his eyes and slowed it down. He had Kristy, she wanted him, and it was bliss. Her arms around his neck, her chest rising and falling against his, her lips returning for more and more, her weight in his hands—all of it was amazing. She slipped her tongue into his mouth.
Oh God
. He loved her lips, her tongue, her ass.