Grayson: An MM Friends To Lovers Romance

Everyone in Giselle’s circle was like her. They had everything.

Love, money, nice houses, good jobs.

A weekend in the mountains “glamping” with my sister and her preppy friends, sniffing wine I couldn’t pronounce, did not sound ideal to me.

But maybe that was the point.

Maybe I needed to leave my comfort zone and put myself out there.

I hovered my thumb over the screen on my phone for only a moment before my co-worker, Andi, passed me, jostling me from my trance.

“Cara just sat your table five,” she said as she started throwing a side salad together.

I sighed, shoving the phone back in my apron pocket. “Thanks,” I murmured, exiting the kitchen and strolling over to the table.

But the moment I left those doors and set my gaze on my table, I wanted to run right back.

Because sitting alone, looking like a goddamn snack of revenge, was fucking Grayson Sanderson.

Well, better get this humiliation over with.

“Can I, uh… get you something to drink?” I said as I forced myself to stand tall, look him in his deep amber eyes, and act as if I hadn’t just completely made an ass out of myself earlier.

To my surprise, Grayson only looked at me with a gaze that was a mix of dark and inviting, and apathetic.

“Fancy meeting you here. Again,” he said.

I crossed my arms involuntarily as I regaled him. “Well, this is my place of business. But you already knew that.”

God what was wrong with me?

Why do I just have to worst fucking word vomit around this man?

It’s like he’s a curse or something!

Grayson twisted his perfect pout, shrugging. “Perhaps I just needed a drink after a long day.”

I sighed in defeat. “Let me guess, gin martini with extra olives?”

Grayson smirked, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

“Heavens, no. I wouldn’t want this to turn into an episode of Groundhog Day.”

I actually laughed.

Like an idiot.

“Well then, what it’ll be, Grayson?”

“Perhaps I shall keep it simple with a rum and coke.”

“Noted,” I said as I slowly backed away, making my way to the bar.

“Whattaya need, Henry?” Max asked as she wiped the bar down again. She was meticulous about constantly wiping it down and I wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t out of boredom and not some undiagnosed OCD.

“Rum and coke.” I said, taking a moment to breathe.

She looked from me to Grayson before raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the guy you escorted home last night?” she asked with a grin.