Grayson: An MM Friends To Lovers Romance

Maybe one game wouldn’t hurt.

“Sure, but uh, just one game,” I said as the host called out the first number, B-6.

I marked it immediately as grunts and yes’s surrounded the space. I noticed Grayson had not moved. Instead, he looked rather uninterested in his game.

With every number called, I neared closer to Bingo, eliciting squeals of excitement from my sister and the other party members.

Except Grayson that was, who looked at my card with a scowl.

“G-54!” The host yelled, and my sister yelled “Bingo!” faster than I could comprehend I’d won.

I’d… won!

Maybe my luck was starting to turn around.

CHAPTER 4

Henry

I’d finally been let go close to twelve-thirty. Giselle and her party had already left, and my last table was on their way out. I counted my tips, which did not include my bingo winnings, if only because I didn’t feel right claiming them being as I was an employee and on the clock. Instead, I’d let Mia claim them.

She was more excited about the bingo than I was anyway.

“Can you restock the soap in the men’s room before you go, Henry?” Max yelled at me over her shoulder as I undid my apron, folding it up and tossing it underneath the bar.

“Yeah, of course,” I answered, not even thinking twice about it.

I’d just finished replacing the empty package when I heard the faintest groan from the stall at the end of the men’s bathroom.

Panic flooded me because honestly, even though I’d heard stories about the patrons who had a little too much fun, I hadn’t had the pleasure of encountering one myself. After all, I’d only been working at M’s Place for a couple weeks. Less than a month. I really thought I’d have more time before I had to peel a drunkard off the floor.

I cautiously approached the stall, gently swinging the door in, since it was apparent it wasn’t locked. My eyes widened to see Grayson, knees propped up, head leaning against the stall wall, a fresh sheen of sweat on his brow. Despite the fact he looked more than wasted, something about the way his hair was all disheveled, the way he carelessly hung his wrist off his knee, he was still GQ-level hot.

Who looks hot when they are wasted? No one!

“Hey there, Grayson… you, uh… gotta get up, buddy.”

Grayson opened one eye, his gaze scanning over me with disdain as a cough escaped his throat.

“I don’t have to do shiiiit.” He pouted, taking in a deep breath.

I carefully knelt down, getting on his level, forcing him to look at me.

“Bar’s closing down, you can’t stay here…” I said softly as I pulled out my phone, queuing up Giselle’s number.

Grayson’s hand stopped me in my tracks as he grabbed mine. My gaze met his and he shook his head.

“Don’t… call… my sister.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I lied.

“Bull fucking shit, Henry. This isn’t my first fucking rodeo,” he growled.

“I was calling you a cab…” I said, switching gears.

Grayson laughed. “I don’t need a cab, I have the Porsche.”

His sweaty palm against the back of my hand didn’t move, and I contemplated what to do.