Six Rules: Book Two in the SIX Series (9 page)

Chapter 12

          
I turned to face Dillon, standing near the hostess area of
the restaurant. He appeared to be by himself, but perhaps he was just waiting
for someone. He looked handsome in his red polo shirt and designer jeans, and I
instantly felt uncomfortable.

          
“So, how have you been?” Dillon asked sincerely.

          
“I, uh, I am good. You know, busy and all that. But happy.
I am happy,” I said, rambling.

          
“And this is…” he said gesturing towards Greyson.

          
“Oh yeah, sorry, this is a guy. I mean yes, it’s a guy
obviously. I mean this guy is Greyson,” I said clumsily as Greyson reached out
and shook Dillon’s hand.

          
This is a guy? What was I saying?
I suddenly felt
hot.

          
“So it’s nice to see you,” Dillon said, eyeing me
suspiciously.

          
“Yes, thank you. I mean, you too,” I stammered. I felt
Greyson put his hand on the small of my back. I wish I could say it felt
comforting, but for some reason it made me even more nervous.

          
“So it’s late, and I have to… You know, I have to go,” I
said pointing to the front door of the restaurant.

          
Dillon and Greyson just nodded at each other and we made
our way out of the restaurant to the parking lot.

          
As Greyson walked me to the passenger side door of his
pick-up, he hesitated before opening it.

          
“Do you want to talk about that?” he asked.

          
“No, not really,” I replied honestly. I wanted to just
climb into the truck, but Greyson was still standing between me and the door.

          
“So I’m still just a guy?” he said with a slight waiver in
his voice.

          
“I’m sorry, that just caught me off guard. I didn’t have
time to pull out our contract and explain any of this to him,” I replied.

          
“You don’t have to explain anything to people, Mal. But it
really didn’t hit you to say ‘oh, this is a guy I’m dating,’ or heaven forbid,
utter the ‘boyfriend’ word or something?” Greyson looked at me sincerely, and
for some reason it made me feel guilty.

          
“I didn’t mean anything by it. That’s just what came out.
I mean that guy just dumped me a week ago. I haven’t really had much time to
process this,” I answered honestly.

          
“So you’re not really over him yet?” he asked me bluntly.

          
“That’s not what I’m saying. I am definitely over him. The
guy told me I wasn’t worth it. So trust me, that’s over. But I met you, like,
thirty minutes later. I’m just still trying to catch up, that’s all,” I
answered truthfully.
 

          
Greyson moved out of the way and I climbed into the seat.
He quietly walked around to his side and got in the truck, firing up the
ignition.

          
“Look Greyson, this isn’t an issue. This is nothing,” I
said, trying to blow it over.

          
“Well I don’t want to be ‘just a guy,’ Mal. I’m really
trying here,” he said as he drove us back to his apartment.

          
“I know you are. I’m really sorry,” I said, resting my
hand on his leg. We drove back the rest of the way in silence, and I hated it.
My mind drifted to thoughts of Dillon. I wondered why he was at the restaurant.
I wondered if he had already moved on. I wondered if he ever felt bad about
what had happened between us.

          
“Will you still walk me to my door?” Greyson said,
interrupting my thoughts. We pulled into his driveway.

          
“I don’t have a ride home, so I’m not sure I have much
choice,” I said, smiling back. He squeezed my hand and we got out of the truck.

          
We walked into his condo and I set my bag of clothes down.
As I set my keys on the kitchen counter, Greyson smirked.

          
"What is that look for?" I asked suspiciously.

          
"What is that on your keys?" he said walking
closer to the counter to investigate. "Is that a bird with a cupcake on
his head?"

          
"Yes, don't laugh at me. My Grandma gave it to me. I
used to make cupcakes with her all the time when I was little. I had a weird
thing for birds, too. I don't know what that was," I said shyly.

          
"So just a bird fetish instead of an ugly cat
figurine?" he asked with a raised brow.

          
"Shut up, it's not like that at all. It's one of my
favorite things," I said smiling, picking up the bird. It was about two
inches long. It was a light blue wooden bird key ring with a pink cupcake on
his head. "I don't know why a bird would have a cupcake on his head. I
guess that is a little weird. But when my Grandma passed, she gave me the
bakery building. The key was on this key ring. I always wonder if she suspected
back then that I would turn the building into a bakery."

          
Greyson looked at me sincerely, and I felt very
comfortable and happy to be with him. I liked sharing something personal with him
about my Grandma. We were finally getting to know a little more about each
other.

          
"So this is it then. I need the bird," he said,
holding out his hand.

          
"You just made fun of it. Why would I give it to
you?" I replied curiously.

          
"As collateral. Just until you think of something
else to leave here, that's all," he said sincerely. "It means
something to you and I like watching your face as you talk about it. So if it
means something to you then it matters to me."

          
He sounded so sweet in that moment that I couldn't help
but to take the bird off of my keys and hand it over. He gently set it on top
of his stove, and his smile looked warm and genuine.

          
"So, I thought we could sit out on the patio tonight.
Maybe have a drink and talk?" he suggested, opening up his fridge. He took
out a bottle of wine and I smiled and nodded.

          
The night sky was magnificent as we sat outside underneath
it. The lights from downtown twinkled in the distance and the air was a little
crisp. It reminded me of the night we drove up the mountain and sat in the back
of his truck.

          
"So the other night, when we were up at that spot you
found overlooking the lake," I began, making conversation. "You said
you like to go up there sometimes to think. Deep stuff, remember? Are you going
to tell me what's in that head of yours?" I really did want to learn more
about him, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to have some meaningful
conversation.

          
"Hey, I thought that was fourth date stuff.
Technically this is only our third," he said teasingly.

          
"Oh come on, I'm staying the night for the second
time. Not to mention I've met your entire family, including cousins. Surely
that moves us up a bit," I responded.

          
"Good point. But this kind of stuff makes me a little
shy. I feel weird talking about it," he said honestly.

          
"Something that makes you shy? I thought you were
cocky and sure of yourself all hours of the day," I said dramatically.

          
"Only when I'm trying to impress a girl who's giving
off a vibe that she hates my guts," he answered back.

          
"Answer the question," I said, taking a sip of
the wine he poured. It tasted sweet, and seemed perfect for the atmosphere.
   

          
"Well, when I'm alone up there, I don't know. It's
just a good reflection spot. I feel like I need silence to hear my dad,"
he responded sincerely. He looked up at the sky. "That's what I think
about the most. I don't actually hear him, obviously. Don't think I'm crazy.
But I don't know, I feel like he can at least hear me when there's no other
noise around. Am I scaring you off yet?" He smiled at me and his face
looked perfect in the glow from his soft patio lights.

          
"No. I don't think that's crazy at all," I said
reassuringly.

          
"I was only four years old when he died. I feel like
I don't have any real memories of him, only the stories I've heard from other
people. But I have some crazy dreams about him. I never actually see him. But
they're always the same. It's really weird to me."

          
"Keep going, I like this. What kinds of dreams?"
I asked, prying for more information. It was the most honest and emotional he'd
ever sounded, and it was endearing to me.

          
"Well, I'm always standing at this cliff. This huge
cliff, overlooking the water. It's not a place I've actually been to before,
but it looks the same in every dream so it feels like it's a real place. I
always feel like I'm called there because my father wants to tell me something.
Like there's an important message he's trying to get through to me, but I just
can't hear it. I stand there, and I hear the water and the air. But that's it.
I'm always straining to hear something else, but there are no actual words.
Sometimes I stand at the edge of the cliff and look over, kind of like I'm
trying to look into the water for an answer. But nothing happens. I feel like
I'm not getting anywhere just standing there, waiting. So the only thing left
to do is jump. I stand there, contemplating it, and then... sometimes I do it.
I stand back a few feet, run, and then jump off the cliff. As I'm falling I
feel like I can finally hear my dad. Then every single time, before I hit the
water, I wake up in a crazy sweat and my body is shaking."

          
"Wow, that sounds pretty intense. Do you ever hear
him say anything to you?" I asked inquisitively. I wasn't really into the
whole idea that dreams always meant one specific thing or another, but it did
seem interesting to me that this was a recurring one, and that it always ended
the same way.

          
"I don't think so. That's just it, I think I wake up
the second before he's about to speak."

          
"How often do you have these dreams?"

          
"I don't know, they're sporadic. But I feel like it
happens when I have a big decision to make, or when I'm really stressed out.
Like I'm expecting an answer from him on what to do, as if he's ever answered
me before. But then I jump... and there's nothing," he said, shaking his
head. "So sometimes I go up to that spot on the mountain. Just to sit.
Just to listen. It kind of reminds me of the cliff. I don't know, it makes me
feel better. It's the only place I can feel him around me. Can we stop talking
about all of this now? I feel my estrogen level rising. It's like I'm turning
into a woman, talking about my feelings and all that."

          
I slapped his arm, pretending to be offended by his
comment. I looked over at him and he smiled, seemingly just as happy as I was
to be sitting together under the stars without a care in the world. Everything
seemed so ordinary, as if we had done this so many other nights.

Chapter 13

          
Bacon.
The glorious, unmistakable scent of bacon. I slowly
opened my eyes and glanced around Greyson’s room. Soft sunlight made its way
through the sides of the curtains and I smiled, happy to be waking up in this
bed.

          
I changed into my clothes for the day, just in case his
roommate Ben was home. The last thing I wanted to do was traipse around in the
mirco shorts I wore to bed last night if we had company. I made my way out to
the kitchen where Greyson stood, shirtless with his tan chiseled body expertly
making his way around the kitchen.

          
“Good morning,” he said, giving me a swift kiss. “Make
yourself comfortable on the deck,” he said, handing me a mug of coffee. I
smiled, genuinely happy to be in this moment. I made my way out to the deck,
pleased to see the patio table was already set for breakfast. It was a perfect
August morning. The sun shone bright as it made its way over the mountains, and
although it was a little brisk at the moment, I knew it would be a perfectly
warm summer day.

          
Moments later Greyson came out carrying two plates of
food, smiling as he set a plate down in front of me. “Chef’s special,” he said
with a wink as he sat across from me.

          
“What is it? I mean, I can see that it’s an omelet. But
what’s in it?” I asked curiously.

          
“I don’t want to tell you in case you’re skittish about
unusual foods,” he responded, picking up his fork. “The rules state you have to
try it either way, so you may as well dig in.”

          
I took a bite of the eggs, carefully trying to decipher
all of the unusual flavors. I had to admit, it tasted amazing.

          
“What is that flavor?” I asked. “Is that goat cheese?”

          
“Wow, I can’t believe you picked that out. There’s also
some homemade salsa in there and some diced bacon. I love goat cheese in my
omelets, but I wasn’t sure if that would freak you out. But it’s good, right?”
he asked confidently.

          
“Yes, very good. I suppose you can continue to cook me
breakfast. A girl could get used to this arrangement,” I said, devouring my
plate.

          
“I guess that means you’ll have to stay over more often
then,” he responded with a sly smirk.

          
“So this ‘us’ day, what exactly does that mean? What are
we doing?” I asked, sipping my gourmet coffee. In that moment with the good
food, coffee, and magnificent view, I was pretty sure I wanted to start every
day like this forever.

          
“Well, an ‘us’ day can be anything as long as we’re
together. We can go for a hike, take a road trip, stay at home all day for a
Godfather movie marathon, whatever,” he said shrugging. “Today I already have
planned though. When we’re done eating we need to throw on our swimsuits. We
need to be down to the docks by ten-thirty.”

          
“Are we going on a boat?” I asked eagerly. It was one of
my favorite things to do, but since none of my close friends currently had a
boat, I rarely did it. Griffin’s family used to have a few boats we used pretty
frequently. But once his father had a mishap with the law earlier this summer,
everything was seized so those days were over.

          
“You’re always pressing for information, aren’t you? Don’t
you ever want to just blindly trust me and go with the flow without having to
know all the details?” he said playfully.

          
“No. You should know by now that I like to know what I’m
getting into,” I retorted, finishing up the last bite of food on my plate.

          
“Well, Mal, unfortunately I don’t like to give too many
details. At some point you’re going to have to give up a little control and
just enjoy this ride,” he said, staring at me intently. “You’re gong to fall
for my charm sooner or later, so you may as well just let go and let it
happen.” Greyson stood up from the table and gathered our plates, kissing me on
the top of my head. “Suits on. We have to go,” he said warmly.

          
I shook my head and threw my hands up. “Whatever you say,
boss.” As much as I hated to admit it, Greyson was right. His charm, however
much it aggravated me, was starting to wear me down quickly. It had only been a
few days, but I knew I was already falling pretty hard. Falling into whatever
this relationship was. Rules or no rules, I knew I was quickly losing any
willpower I had to go against the grain on whatever this was becoming.

          
We made it to the boat docks on time, and I was ecstatic
when Greyson led me onto a small white boat. There was probably room for eight
to ten people on it, but I was happy that it was just the two of us. It was
finally a chance for us to really get to spend a large amount of time together
beyond just a couple of dinners and late night conversations.

          
“So, I’m guessing this isn’t your boat?” I asked as he
fired it up. We slowly made our way out from the docks towards the center of
the lake. The tree-studded mountains on either side of us looked commanding and
beautiful, and this guy standing before me at the wheel somehow looked majestic
in his own way.

          
“No, it’s not mine. But I know some good people and I have
access to it pretty much whenever I want,” he said, gazing over at me. “So if
this sweeps you off your feet, I could make these arrangements whenever you
want.”

          
“Well aren’t you the guy to know,” I said mockingly,
looking around the boat. Greyson increased the speed, probably trying to show
off. The wind blew through my short ponytail and the crisp air felt perfect.
Once we made our way out to the middle of the lake, he cut the engine and
dropped the anchor.

          
“Want to go for a swim?” he asked, taking off his grey
t-shirt. Without waiting for my answer, he stood up on the back of the boat and
dove into the water. I did the same. The water was pretty cold due to the depth
of the lake, but it still felt good and refreshing on my skin.
 

          
We swam around the boat for a bit, laughing at some water
skiers in the distance as they fell on their faces while skiing. For a moment I
felt guilty spending a weekday like this in the sun, totally carefree with no
responsibilities instead of at work growing my business. But as I stared at
Greyson with his wet messy hair and perfect face, I couldn’t imagine being
anywhere else.

          
We eventually swam back to the boat and dried off. Greyson
laid some towels down on the bow and helped me climb up onto it so we could lay
out and get some sun.

          
“So,” he began, turning towards me, “it’s you and me in
the middle of the lake. Nothing to do, no where to be. No ex-boyfriends
stopping by,” he said as he slowly kissed me.

          
“Greyson,” I said as I pulled away, “there are boats
constantly driving by. We can’t…”

          
“Whoa, that’s not what I mean,” he said laughing,
interrupting me. “I would have kept you home all day if those were my
intentions. Besides, what happened to our discussion about keeping the physical
stuff light until you’re completely crazy about me?”

          
I could feel the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks as he
laughed.

          
“I thought we could actually talk, as crazy as that
sounds,” he said sincerely. “I mean, I already know all the important stuff
about you. Your poor math skills and love of carrot cake and all that. You
definitely hit me with all of the big stuff when I first met you.”

          
I smacked his arm playfully and he pulled me in and kissed
me.

          
“But if you’re going to fall for me, like really get crazy
about me, then we should learn more about each other,” he said with a pretend
seriousness. "I felt like I did all of the talking last night."

          
“Well, I’m an open book. I don’t really have any skeletons
in my closet. So what do you want to know?” I asked.

          
“Twenty questions, let’s go. How old were you when you
first kissed a boy?” he asked, smiling as he stared at me.

          
“I was eight and I got detention for it. Apparently I
forced it on him and he wasn’t a willing participant,” I answered. “Geez, I
haven’t thought about that in ages. Sounds more like something you would do,
forcing yourself on someone.” I looked at him with narrow eyes. “What about
you?”

          
“Oh never. I’ve definitely never kissed a boy. It was
never my thing,” he responded with a smirk.

          
“You know what I meant,” I said, squeezing his arm.

          
“Promise you won’t laugh?” he asked sincerely. I nodded.
“Eighteen.”

          
“What?” I asked with an exasperated tone in my voice. “How
is that possible?”

          
“I know, because I’m so charming, right? I wish I could
say it was because I was so selective or something. But the truth is, I was kind
of a nerd. Like, president of the biology club nerd,” he replied.

          
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Really?”

          
“Are you judging me right now? Because that face looks
like judgment,” he said pointing at me.

          
“No, sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all,” I said sympathetically.
“I guess I just pictured you as one of the popular douchy jocks who always got
the girl.”

          
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” he replied,
lying back on his towel.

          
“Next question,” I said, changing the subject. “What’s one
of your favorite childhood memories?” I asked. I genuinely did like having this
alone time with Greyson. It was such a good chance to really learn more about
him.

          
“Geez, there are so many. Cooking with my mom. Camping up
at the lake with my uncle. This,” he said, pointing to a scar on his left shin.

          
“That looks like it was a serious injury. What’s so great
about that?” I asked.

          
“Exactly. I already told you I was a nerd, right? But this
proves I was brave for about eight seconds in my life,” he said nostalgically.
“I was twelve and I got in a fight at school. Some kids were making fun of me
for not having a dad. I was a really soft spoken kid, but that really pushed me
over the edge. I just snapped and punched one of the kids in the face. Just
like in a movie. It was so unlike me, but that was just my reaction. He pushed
me into a fence, and then it was over. A teacher broke it up. The fence had
some metal sticking out of the bottom of it, and it cut my leg pretty deep.
There was blood all over the place. It was actually really gross. But I was
proud somehow. I don’t know, like one of those moments where a boy feels like a
man. I know that sounds stupid,” he said, staring up into the sky.

          
“Not at all,” I said sincerely. Greyson seemed so
vulnerable in that moment, and I liked him even more as he spoke.

          
“Now you tell me something stupid,” he said softly,
touching my face.

          
“I think I like you,” I whispered.

          
“Do you think by saying it quietly, it doesn’t really
count?” He kissed me, and although the sun was shining directly on us, my body
shivered.