Finding Gray: A Colloway Brothers Prequel (.5) (The Colloway Brothers Book 1) by K.L. Kreig Page A
Authors: K.L. Kreig
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have left gambles away the mortgage payment and grocery money.
No. No, we would never work, so just push that thought right out of your head, Livia. “Sorry. I have to work every night for the next six nights. Some of us need to make a living.”
Bravo. Now that had oomph behind it.
Before he can formulate another argument, I spin on my heels and head over to greet my next customer, willing away the sharp pang those words leave behind. Wishing things could be different. But I’ll never fit into his world and he won’t fit into mine. I have to make sure Alyse graduates, gets into college. I have an entirely different focus than he does. And he’s better off with a Stepford wife who thinks shopping is an Olympic sport.
Only, in the same breath I think those things, I also wonder if they’re really true. The romantic side of me whispers: Maybe he’s more than you think, Livia. Maybe you should give him a chance? Unfortunately, the logical side of me yells: Leave it, Livia. He’s not worth it. He’s like every other guy. You wound his pride; he’ll lose interest and move on to the next willing victim with T&A.
And, of course, my whispers of what could be are drowned out by the screams of can’t ever happen , so I move on, convinced I’ll never see this player again.
Only that’s not at all what happens.
Chapter 2
“ T hat MIT hottie is back . Again ,” Christa, a fellow waitress, whispers in my ear.
I know.
“Yeah?” I feign indifference. I keep busy rolling silverware in paper napkins, trying to suppress my grin, but god…I can’t. I try not to feel his eyes watching my every move, but it’s impossible. Impossible . The second that bell clanged, I knew it was him walking in. For the sixth night in a row. I knew because he’s come in at the exact same time, and always asks to be seated in my section. I know this because Holly, the hostess, told me that after night three.
“Fuck, he is smokin’ hot,” she tells me, sounding as dreamy as I feel.
I lift up one shoulder. “He’s okay.”
“Okay?” She screeches so loud you’d think I just spilled soda on her Gucci shoes. Her dad owns Rocky’s Pizza and she’s “finding herself” by waitressing two nights a week. If only we all had it that easy. “Jesus, girl, you need to get your hottie radar fixed. And fast,” she adds. “Because he’s looking at you like you’re the special of the night instead of the six cheese pizza.”
I glance over my shoulder and catch his eyes, watching. Assessing. Strategizing. They do look hungry as they crinkle at the edges when he smiles. A smile I’ve already come to know is a genuine one, not an I’m feeding you full of shit just to get lucky one.
After I get my fill of his cut jawline and full lips, I let my eyes wander over his broad shoulders, down sculpted arms that stretch the fabric of his pullover sweater. I imagine what all six plus feet of him looks like without a stitch of clothing. And it’s a good vision. A damn good one if I do say so myself.
Holy hell, I want him.
I want him and the flag of surrender is already half way up the pole.
He’s working so damn hard to get me out on just one date. One . I think any other guy would have just given up by now, but not him. And no woman would deny that the effort he’s putting into this is a head rush.
I like it.
I like him .
And that scares me more than anything, actually. Everything in me screams if I succumb to his advances I’ll only get hurt. He’ll be leaving in just three short weeks to return to Cambridge. To return to the life he had before me. I’ll be the one left behind. A memory. A hard fought victory, maybe.
But if you’re not…
If you’re not, then what? Long distance relationships never work. Never. Only the naïve believe they will. And naïve isn’t something I’ve been since I was eight and my mother walked out on our family.
But that doesn’t stop me from returning that smile. It doesn’t quell the need
No. No, we would never work, so just push that thought right out of your head, Livia. “Sorry. I have to work every night for the next six nights. Some of us need to make a living.”
Bravo. Now that had oomph behind it.
Before he can formulate another argument, I spin on my heels and head over to greet my next customer, willing away the sharp pang those words leave behind. Wishing things could be different. But I’ll never fit into his world and he won’t fit into mine. I have to make sure Alyse graduates, gets into college. I have an entirely different focus than he does. And he’s better off with a Stepford wife who thinks shopping is an Olympic sport.
Only, in the same breath I think those things, I also wonder if they’re really true. The romantic side of me whispers: Maybe he’s more than you think, Livia. Maybe you should give him a chance? Unfortunately, the logical side of me yells: Leave it, Livia. He’s not worth it. He’s like every other guy. You wound his pride; he’ll lose interest and move on to the next willing victim with T&A.
And, of course, my whispers of what could be are drowned out by the screams of can’t ever happen , so I move on, convinced I’ll never see this player again.
Only that’s not at all what happens.
Chapter 2
“ T hat MIT hottie is back . Again ,” Christa, a fellow waitress, whispers in my ear.
I know.
“Yeah?” I feign indifference. I keep busy rolling silverware in paper napkins, trying to suppress my grin, but god…I can’t. I try not to feel his eyes watching my every move, but it’s impossible. Impossible . The second that bell clanged, I knew it was him walking in. For the sixth night in a row. I knew because he’s come in at the exact same time, and always asks to be seated in my section. I know this because Holly, the hostess, told me that after night three.
“Fuck, he is smokin’ hot,” she tells me, sounding as dreamy as I feel.
I lift up one shoulder. “He’s okay.”
“Okay?” She screeches so loud you’d think I just spilled soda on her Gucci shoes. Her dad owns Rocky’s Pizza and she’s “finding herself” by waitressing two nights a week. If only we all had it that easy. “Jesus, girl, you need to get your hottie radar fixed. And fast,” she adds. “Because he’s looking at you like you’re the special of the night instead of the six cheese pizza.”
I glance over my shoulder and catch his eyes, watching. Assessing. Strategizing. They do look hungry as they crinkle at the edges when he smiles. A smile I’ve already come to know is a genuine one, not an I’m feeding you full of shit just to get lucky one.
After I get my fill of his cut jawline and full lips, I let my eyes wander over his broad shoulders, down sculpted arms that stretch the fabric of his pullover sweater. I imagine what all six plus feet of him looks like without a stitch of clothing. And it’s a good vision. A damn good one if I do say so myself.
Holy hell, I want him.
I want him and the flag of surrender is already half way up the pole.
He’s working so damn hard to get me out on just one date. One . I think any other guy would have just given up by now, but not him. And no woman would deny that the effort he’s putting into this is a head rush.
I like it.
I like him .
And that scares me more than anything, actually. Everything in me screams if I succumb to his advances I’ll only get hurt. He’ll be leaving in just three short weeks to return to Cambridge. To return to the life he had before me. I’ll be the one left behind. A memory. A hard fought victory, maybe.
But if you’re not…
If you’re not, then what? Long distance relationships never work. Never. Only the naïve believe they will. And naïve isn’t something I’ve been since I was eight and my mother walked out on our family.
But that doesn’t stop me from returning that smile. It doesn’t quell the need
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