Toxic
Three.
The car ride wasn't a long one, but we were silent the whole way. My eyes focused on the scenery that we raced past. Every time we stopped at a light, he would look my way. I could feel his eyes on me, even if I couldn't see him. What was I doing anyways? My dislike for this man still burned in the pit of my stomach, but that kiss doused the flame slightly. I really didn't have any true reason for disliking him, other than the fact he was a player and a Capital. Maybe it was just my morals getting in the way of character, much like they did. I could see the sweetest man on the planet, but if I knew that he was cheating on his wife, it would throw everything away. Then again, a sweet man would never cheat on his wife, so that example was stupid.
I felt my mind wander into the reasons I had for disliking Mike Green, and none of them seemed very valid anymore. It wasn't until the car stopped and he tapped my leg that I realized we were at the restaurant. I turned towards the building in front of us and rose an eyebrow at it. As familiar as I was with D.C. I had no idea where we were. The restaurant was called Fry Guys, and before I could question it, Mike was already out of the car. I felt my brown furrow as he came around the car to open my door.
"Here we are," he called, reaching out a hand to help me out of the car. I knocked it aside and exited the vehicle on my own.
"Where are we?" Nothing looked even slightly familiar. "I thought we were going back into D.C."
"Why would you think that? You just said burgers. I figured where we went was up to me."
Dammit. He had a good point. I just assumed it would mean a trip back to the city. Instead, I was sure we were just farther into Virginia. Not too much farther, since the ride wasn't that long, but I never went much farther south than Alexandria. Looking at the restaurant, I took a deep breath. "Okay, fine," I gave in, starting towards the door. I could keep Mike chuckle behind me as he locked the car and followed.
He sped up slightly to open the door for me, letting me walk in before him. The place was nearly as deserted as the bar. There were a couple of trucker looking guys, a few waitresses, and a bus boy, but those were the only people I really saw. Mike reached my side and pressed further into the little place, going straight for a booth. I followed, taking in the scenery. Everything looked run down. The tables were drawn on and signed by various customers over the years. The seats looked like they were uneven and creaked when you sat upon them. The booth coverings were torn in several places. This wasn't the type of place I would expect a man like Mike Green to come to. However, Capital merchandise covered every wall I could see. Jerseys, pictures, pucks. You name it, it was probably hanging on a wall in Fry Guys and had an eagle on it.
Mike lead me to one of the tables in a corner and pulled out my chair for me before sitting in his own. A smile crept across his face as he caught sight of my expression. "Not what you expected?"
"Not from you," I muttered, slipping my jacket off my arms. "I just imagined..."
"High class?" Mike finished. Taking the menu from the waitress, he nodded a thank you before shrugging at me. "I do, trust me. Most of the things I own are designer. I eat at the best restaurants, rendezvous at the classiest hotels, have the best money can buy," he paused for a second, looking over the menu, "but I get sick of it."
"How do you get sick of that? I would kill for that," I had never had money to just blow. My parents worked mediocre jobs with mediocre wages. I got a job when I turned sixteen, saved up just so I could afford a little bit of my college career, took out loans on the rest, and now worked two jobs. I had a bit of spending money nowadays, but not enough to do much with. Get a few crappy tickets to a hockey game. That was about it.
"You would too," he offered up, smiling at me over the menu.
Just as I was about to speak, the waitress walked back up for our order. I hadn't even looked at the menu. As I reached for it, Mike was already talking. "We'll have two fry burgers, a side of fires for her, onion rings for me, and two chocolate milkshakes." My eyes widened at his words and before I could protest, she was already walking away. He caught sight of my expression and raised an eyebrow. "Not what you wanted?"
Sadly, he hadn't done half bad. I didn't know what a "fry burger" was, but it made my mouth water at the thought. But I wasn't going to make this that easy on him. "I want the onion rings," I protested, cracking what might have been my first smile of the night.
-x-
The night went much like any date would. We talked about everything you could think of. He got caught up to date on my life and the tragedy of my Dad's death. I learned about his rise in the NHL, as well as his fall when he got his concussion. We were lost in our own little world until the waitress came over and asked us if we wanted anything else before closing. Between the two of us, we had demolished everything Mike had ordered, plus two sodas and another two milkshakes. It wasn't until I stood that I realized this wasn't going to be easy. Mike couldn't help but laugh at my discomfort as I walked to the car.
I was warming up to him quickly. The icy barrier I had put up to keep him out had melted away and helped to put out that fire in my stomach that hated him. He was actually a good guy. Once I got to the car, I slipped into the passenger's seat while he walked around to the driver's side. One a.m. That's what the clock read when he turned on his car.
"Shit," I muttered, looking at the clock.
"What? You can't complain that it's late. You're a bartender," Mike commented, backing out of the parking spot so we could get back home.
"I know. I just didn't think we had been out that long," I countered.
Mike just shook his head and placed a hand on my leg, though I'm not sure why. Yawning, I slouched down in my seat and decided to close my eyes. As the car carried us back towards Alexandria and the bar, I felt myself drift asleep.
When I awoke, I found that we weren't back at Six Feet under. In fact, I wasn't even still in the car. I had awakened to find myself laying on one side of Mike Green's bed in a puddle of my own drool. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the room around us, but it was nice. Everything decorated in shades of gray and black, but it was well put together. Rolling over, I hit Mike in the side, causing him to startle awake. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at me curiously.
"Trying to escape?" He asked groggily.
"I thought you would take me back to my car," I questioned, glancing at the clock. It was only 3:30 a.m. I had only been asleep for two and a half hours, if that.
"I tried. We got back to the bar and you were out cold. I thought there might be something wrong with you, so I went to ask. Apparently you always sleep like that according to...Oscar?"
"Owen."
"Right him. Anyways, I couldn't just leave you there, so I brought you back here."
He had a point. I slept like a rock, no matter what. Looking down at my jeans and tank top, I sighed. It was too late to ask him to take me back to my car, and I was still partially asleep anyways. With a defeated sigh, I looked at the man laying next to me. There was something about his tired eyes that drug me in and wouldn't let go. Telling him that I had to leave now would be stupid. I knew that Caroline wouldn't be worried about me, and the fact that he had already spoken to Owen meant that nobody would be worried that my car was still sitting in the parking lot. "Can I get something else to change into?" I asked. With that, he knew that he had won. Mike got out of bed to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs. I felt myself bite my lip and turn away before he returned.
"Will this do?" He held a pair of basketball shorts in his hands, as well as a t-shirt
.
"I just need the shorts," I responded, taking them from him and standing up. Modesty had never really been one of my strong points, and I didn't care if he saw something he shouldn't. Tearing off my tank top, I showed that another lie beneath it. Reaching under the shirt, I popped the latch on my bra and slid it off with little effort. I stripped off my jeans and pulled his basketball shorts on. This was a lot more comfortable. Pulling my chestnut brown hair into a ponytail, I climbed back into bed with him.
As if on cue, I felt a strong arm wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me close. Normally, I would object any sort of contact, but I couldn't. I went from hating this man to laying next to him and being okay with him embrace. My eyes fluttered to the pillow, letting out a little sigh. What did I want out of this? I knew he was an okay guy. Cool. But...why was I still here?
Turning over in his arm, I noticed that his eyes were already closed. I knew he wasn't asleep yet, thanks to his breathing not evening out. Laying there, I ran a finger over his features, trying my best to figure it out. I should be running. This man had the potential to hurt me. I knew his track record. I had personally witnessed girl after girl after girl who had probably been in the same situation as me.
"Hmm?"
"Nothing," I murmured.
At this, his eyes fluttered open and met mine. One of those crooked smiles took over his lips and before I could even think of saying anything else, his lips were on mine again. I accepted this kiss much better than the last one, and reciprocated. My lips parted to let him gain full access to my mouth, which he took without questions. Rolling slightly, I felt myself becoming pinned under his body. My hands trailed up to the sides of his face, bringing him closer, if that was even possible.
Before I knew it, I was stripped of the little shirt I had on. His kisses began to trail lower and lower, crossing over my neck, chest, and stomach until he reached the elastic of the shorts he had lent me. They seemed to just be in the way now. A single finger snuck beneath the fabric before his eyes glanced up at me. I knew what would come next. With a little nod, I gave him all the permission he needed to continue.
I felt my mind wander into the reasons I had for disliking Mike Green, and none of them seemed very valid anymore. It wasn't until the car stopped and he tapped my leg that I realized we were at the restaurant. I turned towards the building in front of us and rose an eyebrow at it. As familiar as I was with D.C. I had no idea where we were. The restaurant was called Fry Guys, and before I could question it, Mike was already out of the car. I felt my brown furrow as he came around the car to open my door.
"Here we are," he called, reaching out a hand to help me out of the car. I knocked it aside and exited the vehicle on my own.
"Where are we?" Nothing looked even slightly familiar. "I thought we were going back into D.C."
"Why would you think that? You just said burgers. I figured where we went was up to me."
Dammit. He had a good point. I just assumed it would mean a trip back to the city. Instead, I was sure we were just farther into Virginia. Not too much farther, since the ride wasn't that long, but I never went much farther south than Alexandria. Looking at the restaurant, I took a deep breath. "Okay, fine," I gave in, starting towards the door. I could keep Mike chuckle behind me as he locked the car and followed.
He sped up slightly to open the door for me, letting me walk in before him. The place was nearly as deserted as the bar. There were a couple of trucker looking guys, a few waitresses, and a bus boy, but those were the only people I really saw. Mike reached my side and pressed further into the little place, going straight for a booth. I followed, taking in the scenery. Everything looked run down. The tables were drawn on and signed by various customers over the years. The seats looked like they were uneven and creaked when you sat upon them. The booth coverings were torn in several places. This wasn't the type of place I would expect a man like Mike Green to come to. However, Capital merchandise covered every wall I could see. Jerseys, pictures, pucks. You name it, it was probably hanging on a wall in Fry Guys and had an eagle on it.
Mike lead me to one of the tables in a corner and pulled out my chair for me before sitting in his own. A smile crept across his face as he caught sight of my expression. "Not what you expected?"
"Not from you," I muttered, slipping my jacket off my arms. "I just imagined..."
"High class?" Mike finished. Taking the menu from the waitress, he nodded a thank you before shrugging at me. "I do, trust me. Most of the things I own are designer. I eat at the best restaurants, rendezvous at the classiest hotels, have the best money can buy," he paused for a second, looking over the menu, "but I get sick of it."
"How do you get sick of that? I would kill for that," I had never had money to just blow. My parents worked mediocre jobs with mediocre wages. I got a job when I turned sixteen, saved up just so I could afford a little bit of my college career, took out loans on the rest, and now worked two jobs. I had a bit of spending money nowadays, but not enough to do much with. Get a few crappy tickets to a hockey game. That was about it.
"You would too," he offered up, smiling at me over the menu.
Just as I was about to speak, the waitress walked back up for our order. I hadn't even looked at the menu. As I reached for it, Mike was already talking. "We'll have two fry burgers, a side of fires for her, onion rings for me, and two chocolate milkshakes." My eyes widened at his words and before I could protest, she was already walking away. He caught sight of my expression and raised an eyebrow. "Not what you wanted?"
Sadly, he hadn't done half bad. I didn't know what a "fry burger" was, but it made my mouth water at the thought. But I wasn't going to make this that easy on him. "I want the onion rings," I protested, cracking what might have been my first smile of the night.
-x-
The night went much like any date would. We talked about everything you could think of. He got caught up to date on my life and the tragedy of my Dad's death. I learned about his rise in the NHL, as well as his fall when he got his concussion. We were lost in our own little world until the waitress came over and asked us if we wanted anything else before closing. Between the two of us, we had demolished everything Mike had ordered, plus two sodas and another two milkshakes. It wasn't until I stood that I realized this wasn't going to be easy. Mike couldn't help but laugh at my discomfort as I walked to the car.
I was warming up to him quickly. The icy barrier I had put up to keep him out had melted away and helped to put out that fire in my stomach that hated him. He was actually a good guy. Once I got to the car, I slipped into the passenger's seat while he walked around to the driver's side. One a.m. That's what the clock read when he turned on his car.
"Shit," I muttered, looking at the clock.
"What? You can't complain that it's late. You're a bartender," Mike commented, backing out of the parking spot so we could get back home.
"I know. I just didn't think we had been out that long," I countered.
Mike just shook his head and placed a hand on my leg, though I'm not sure why. Yawning, I slouched down in my seat and decided to close my eyes. As the car carried us back towards Alexandria and the bar, I felt myself drift asleep.
When I awoke, I found that we weren't back at Six Feet under. In fact, I wasn't even still in the car. I had awakened to find myself laying on one side of Mike Green's bed in a puddle of my own drool. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the room around us, but it was nice. Everything decorated in shades of gray and black, but it was well put together. Rolling over, I hit Mike in the side, causing him to startle awake. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at me curiously.
"Trying to escape?" He asked groggily.
"I thought you would take me back to my car," I questioned, glancing at the clock. It was only 3:30 a.m. I had only been asleep for two and a half hours, if that.
"I tried. We got back to the bar and you were out cold. I thought there might be something wrong with you, so I went to ask. Apparently you always sleep like that according to...Oscar?"
"Owen."
"Right him. Anyways, I couldn't just leave you there, so I brought you back here."
He had a point. I slept like a rock, no matter what. Looking down at my jeans and tank top, I sighed. It was too late to ask him to take me back to my car, and I was still partially asleep anyways. With a defeated sigh, I looked at the man laying next to me. There was something about his tired eyes that drug me in and wouldn't let go. Telling him that I had to leave now would be stupid. I knew that Caroline wouldn't be worried about me, and the fact that he had already spoken to Owen meant that nobody would be worried that my car was still sitting in the parking lot. "Can I get something else to change into?" I asked. With that, he knew that he had won. Mike got out of bed to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs. I felt myself bite my lip and turn away before he returned.
"Will this do?" He held a pair of basketball shorts in his hands, as well as a t-shirt
.
"I just need the shorts," I responded, taking them from him and standing up. Modesty had never really been one of my strong points, and I didn't care if he saw something he shouldn't. Tearing off my tank top, I showed that another lie beneath it. Reaching under the shirt, I popped the latch on my bra and slid it off with little effort. I stripped off my jeans and pulled his basketball shorts on. This was a lot more comfortable. Pulling my chestnut brown hair into a ponytail, I climbed back into bed with him.
As if on cue, I felt a strong arm wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me close. Normally, I would object any sort of contact, but I couldn't. I went from hating this man to laying next to him and being okay with him embrace. My eyes fluttered to the pillow, letting out a little sigh. What did I want out of this? I knew he was an okay guy. Cool. But...why was I still here?
Turning over in his arm, I noticed that his eyes were already closed. I knew he wasn't asleep yet, thanks to his breathing not evening out. Laying there, I ran a finger over his features, trying my best to figure it out. I should be running. This man had the potential to hurt me. I knew his track record. I had personally witnessed girl after girl after girl who had probably been in the same situation as me.
"Hmm?"
"Nothing," I murmured.
At this, his eyes fluttered open and met mine. One of those crooked smiles took over his lips and before I could even think of saying anything else, his lips were on mine again. I accepted this kiss much better than the last one, and reciprocated. My lips parted to let him gain full access to my mouth, which he took without questions. Rolling slightly, I felt myself becoming pinned under his body. My hands trailed up to the sides of his face, bringing him closer, if that was even possible.
Before I knew it, I was stripped of the little shirt I had on. His kisses began to trail lower and lower, crossing over my neck, chest, and stomach until he reached the elastic of the shorts he had lent me. They seemed to just be in the way now. A single finger snuck beneath the fabric before his eyes glanced up at me. I knew what would come next. With a little nod, I gave him all the permission he needed to continue.