Femme Fetale

Eight

When I wake up the next morning I have a text from Justin Hank. A short message. Time, and place. Not even a please or thank you. But my mind doesn't stick to Hank's rudeness. Instead it wanders to a certain green-eyed someone. I'd left the key under the doormat last night, in case Grant decided to stumble back here and crash. It was a stupid decision, considering my line of work, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave him out. I hadn't heard anything throughout the night, though I suppose he might have slipped in silently. But when I peak into the guest bedroom he's not there. I frown as I walk down the hall towards the living room and kitchen when shuffling makes me stand alert. I slowly round the corner and come face to face with a mumbling Grant.

"What the-"

"Adrianna," Grant slurs, grinning like a little kid at Christmas. "I missed you, you annoying little ogress." He comes towards me, and before I can stop him, grabs me into a hug.

"Hey!"

"Oh, don't complain. I had a shitty night, I need a hug," He sighs dramatically, then lets me go. "First I tried to hit on this girl. She looks a little like you actually, but her eyes aren't blue. And her hair isn't black. And she's taller." He tells me animatedly. Somehow, I doubt she looked like me."She turned me down. Which is the part that reminded me of you, actually. Then I drank until five in the morning, before heading back here. I'm so glad you didn't lock me out." He looks at me with an expression I can only describe as adoration. I raise my eyebrows at him, wrinkling my nose.

"You need a coffee, and then you need a shower," I shake my head, heading to the kitchen. "I'll handle the coffee."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, bambola." He grabs my face in his hands, and just stares at me for a second. "Please don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Grant."  I roll my eyes, as I take his hands and lower them from my face."Sadly," I mutter under my breath.

"Parker," He says, searching my gaze. I frown up at him. We'd gone over this.

I ignore him and continue with what was most important at this moment. "We have a meeting with Justin at four. You need to get sobered up."

"Oh, but I am sober," He tell me proudly, grinning widely at me. Even drunk his breath smells like spearmint. I kick myself mentally for noticing something so idiotic at a time like this. "Can I kiss you?" He asks me, pleading.

"No."

"My mother told me to never force myself onto a girl."

"You should take her advice," I snap, slipping out of his caress and hurrying behind the island. "You go take your shower and I'll make you some coffee." I set about making the coffee, when I notice he hasn't moved. "Shoo," I gesture wildly with my arms.

"Say please."

"What?"

"I said, say please. My mother told me I should always be nice to others," Grant huffs, frowning at me. Is Grant a momma's boy? How effing adorable would that be?

"You know, killing people isn't nice," I tell him, raising my eyebrows. He shrugs.

"I'm only nice to nice people." His logic is flawed but I let him have it.

"Fine. Please go shower."

"Fine. Only cause you asked nicely."

"Sure, whatever," I mutter.  I press the button on the coffee machine, then sigh as I go to sit on the couch. I wish I could take back everything I'd said yesterday. I'd given him hope where there is none. I'd let him see a part of me that no one had except Nickolas. I couldn't allow myself to be exposed like that again, it would only hurt me more in the end.