How can I answer his question without sounding lame?
“Yep,” I lie.
He pauses for a moment. “May I ask why you’re at a table for seven people, but you’re the only one here drinking a bottle of wine alone?”
Biting the inside of my cheek, a mix of anger and sadness swells in my throat.
Letting out a deep breath, I glance up at his unique eyes. Screw it. “I was stood up.”
He raises a brow. “Okay. I’m assuming it wasn’t a date?”
“Why did you stay behind? You should’ve left with your friends.” The wine buzz seems to have taken over because my words sounded a bit rude. I’ve always been straightforward, but never rude. “I’m sorry for my tone. It’s just been a rough night.”
He sighs and sits next to me when Charles appears. “Here’s your check for the wine, miss.”
“Thank you, Charles.”
I grab my purse and fish out my credit card. Just as I’m about to put it down, my stomach growls loudly enough that even Grayson hears it, and my face heats up.
“Have you eaten or drunk anything? Except for the wine, that is.”
Shrugging, I don’t look back up. “I’ll get something on the way to my dorm. The kitchen’s about to close.”
Grayson stands after a moment. “Wait here.” He walks away, and I try to stand up and leave, but my curiosity gets the best of me. This is someone I’ll be working with for the next month and a half, and he was kind enough to stay with me after I washumiliated in front of an entire restaurant staff and its customers.
Either that or he pities me.
After five minutes, he comes back. “Follow me.”
Gazing back up at him, I tilt my head. “Um, why?” He rolls his eyes, and that’s when I see his blown-up pupils and loose stance. My mouth falls open in delight and surprise. “You’redrunk.”
Now this is making sense.
“I’m not drunk,” he scoffs. I cross my arms over my chest, and his shoulders slump. “Maybe a little tipsy…”
This time, I stand up to leave. “Have a good night, Professor Hayes.” There’s no way in hell I’m staying here while he’s in the same state he was in London, as fun as he may be when he drinks.
I only manage to take three steps when he speaks. “I ordered you some food.” Turning, I assess his face and see that his jaw is set, as it has been since I first ran into him in Driscoll. “The chef’s a friend from college, and the meal will go to waste if you don’t stay.”
“You’ve had a couple of drinks tonight, Professor, and I’ve had two and a half glasses of wine on an empty stomach. You remember what happened the last time we were together with alcohol in our systems.” I lift both eyebrows and hold them there.
A heated look flickers across his face, but it disappears in an instant. “It’s just food, Ms. Haywood. A professor helping a student.”
Whatever he drank has definitely loosened him up. He didn’t bother to confront me about bringing up London, even though, less than two weeks ago, I’d told him it never happened.
My stomach growls again, and he smiles. He knows my wine buzz and appetite will win.
“Fine, but I’m leaving as soon as I’m done with the meal.”
“Of course.”
“And I want a booth.”
Grayson smirks all sexy-like. It’s a look I haven’t seen since July, and my stupid, stubborn core warms, awakened for the first time in months.
No, no.He’s tipsy and so am I. It’s just food.
“Follow me.”
