The Truth About Bad Boys

The Velvet Room, Part One

Memphis’s POV

“Jesus, Mem. Give the rest of us a chance, would you?”

I smile weakly at Tally as we pile into her Subaru. We usually take Bridget’s convertible, but when we’re going out, it’s always the Subaru, since Tally is always the designated driver.

“You only dress like that when you’re looking to score,” Bridget tells me from her shotgun spot, frowning, as Tally pulls out. “That’s not your plan tonight, is it?”

I groan, instantly regretting my choice of little black dress for tonight’s outing. I’m not looking to score, for the record; I actually kind of like Gray, and I only sleep with people I don’t actually like.

I know, I know—it doesn’t make sense. I’ll do my best to explain it later, but for now, bear with me.

“No,” I tell Bridget, scowling out the window. “I don’t want to sleep with Gray.”

Not entirely true; the guy is s*x on a stick, and I would very much like to sleep with him. But s*x and I don’t have a great relationship these days, and I’m very certain that if I did sleep with him, I would never speak to him again. So best to steer clear, at least for now.

“Poor guy,” Bridget says, clucking her tongue. “You’re gonna torture him.”

“That’s it. Turn around, Tally.”

She laughs. “No way. Bridget’s being a drama queen, as usual. You look hot, but you don’t look like you’re asking for it. Not that any girl ever does.”

I appreciate that last bit, as it’s a subject I’m particularly sensitive about. But I still feel a little self-conscious.

I pull my leather jacket on as soon as we step out of the car, eager to cover up a little. I make my way straight to the bar, where Luke, my favorite bartender, is waiting.

Luke, for the record, is the only guy I’ve repeat-banged since, well, the bad thing that happened to me that you’ve probably more or less surmised. I usually either heavily resent the guy or heavily resent the s*x afterwards, but in Luke’s case, neither really happened. He never asked or expected anything more from me, yet managed to remain civil and even flirty with me, and thus, well, it happened a few more times afterwards.

Plus, I get free drinks.

“Lookin’ good tonight,” Luke says to me with an easy nod when I reach him. “New dress?”

I really wish people would stop commenting on the dress. “No comment. Can I get a Paper Plane? And a—”

“—Cosmo for Bridget and a Coke for Tally,” he finishes for me with a grin. “Coming right up.”

I wonder if he thinks we’ll hook up tonight, too. He certainly looks tempting. He’s the sort of hipster, bearded, flannel shirt type—not quite as sexy as Gray, but a bit manlier, if that makes sense.

I offer to pay him for the drinks when they’re ready, but, as usual, he waves away my money. I haphazardly lift all three drinks as I make my way back toward the pool tables, where the girls are waiting.

“Let me guess,” Tally says as she accepts her Coke. “Luke hit on you again?”

I roll my eyes as I hand Bridget her Cosmo, take a sip of my Paper Plane, and set it down. “No comment.”

They saved the break for me, as usual. I’m by far the best pool player of the group. We had a table at our loft in Brooklyn, and I practiced all the time—at least, until the noise of the balls started upsetting Todd.

My break is clean and sharp, and I manage to sink a stripe.

“Damn,” says a voice from behind me. “You should have warned me you were good.”

I spin around to see Gray and Kai approaching us from the door. Kai looks about the same as he did the day I met him—very out-of-place here at the bar—but Gray dressed up a bit. He’s got on a black, button-down top with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of black jeans, and a set of black combat boots that just about match mine.

He’s even hotter than I remembered. And those eyes… well, he isn’t high this time. That storm cloud gray is dreamier than ever.

“Get used to it,” Bridget warns Gray as she steps up to kiss his cheeks, then Kai’s—a very Bridget type of greeting, and one that I’d never pull off. “She’s good at everything.”

I laugh out loud at that, not coming over to physically greet either of them the way Bridget did; physical touch isn’t really within my comfort zone with guys I barely know. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Just wait ’til you hear her SAT scores.”

Gray smiles, but he doesn’t spare Bridget another glance; instead, he comes right over to me. At least he doesn’t hug me. “You look incredible,” he murmurs so that only I can hear him.

“Thanks,” I mumble shortly, turning away from him and toward the pool table to take my second shot. I come close to sinking another stripe, but my nerves must have gotten the better of me, because it stops just shy of the pocket.

“Did you two carpool?” I hear Tally ask Gray and Kai as I rise from my shooting stance and reach for my drink. I feel Gray’s eyes on me, but do my best to avoid them.

“Yeah,” Kai answers her. “Gray knew I wouldn’t be drinking, so he asked me to DD.”

I guess you might be wondering why we ever arranged to meet up with Kai tonight in the first place. Well, the short answer is, Bridget likes him as a human and wants to be his friend; the longer answer is, we both secretly hope Tally will fall for him instead of Ezra.

“Do you both live on campus?” I ask, allowing myself to spare another glance at Gray.

“Just me,” he replies. “In the Kids Whose Parents Don’t Know What to Do With Them Hall.”

I laugh at that, but I also feel a pang of sympathy for him. Getting kicked out of your school is one thing, but getting kicked out of your own house? “So your parents still live in Manhattan?”

He nods. “My mom, anyway. My dad has many different addresses… among other things.”

He says it with a touch of humor, but I can sense the resentment beneath his words. I want to ask him more about it, but before I get the chance, Bridget snakes the cue stick from me and asks the boys, “Don’t you boys need drinks? This one’s our game.”

Gray laughs, raising his hands in surrender, then winks at me—actually winks at me!—and says, “Go easy on her.”

And he and Kai head to the bar.

“Damn, Mem,” Bridget says as she leans forward to take her shot. She manages to sink one solid, but fumbles on the second. “You’re in trouble.”

I glance toward the bar, where, of course, I find Gray looking right back at me. He sure isn’t subtle. I heave a sigh as I take the cue stick back from her. (It’s not that we’re excluding Tally; she just doesn’t like to play.)

I usually go easy on Bridget, but I’d like to speed up this game so we can get the boys in on the next one, so I manage to land three balls in a row before handing it back to her—by which time, the boys have returned.

“Old Fashioned?” I ask Gray when I see the orange peel in his amber drink. “How Don Draper of you.”

He even kind of looks like Don Draper, come to think of it—you know, if Don Draper was a high school stoner with messier hair.

“Love the Mad Men reference,” Gray replies cheerfully, “but the real gentleman here is Kai Tolbert with his Shirley Temple.”

We all burst out laughing at that as Kai blushes. Tally, I’m pleased to witness, swoops in to defend him. “I love a good Shirley Temple. I only stopped drinking them because these girls were so mean to me about it.”

“Nice,” Gray says with a grin as he offers me a fist bump. “Glad it’s not just me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Bridget as she shoots and misses again. “We’re the worst. That’s why Tally has stayed friends with us all these years.”

I laugh as I take the cue stick back and line up my next shot.

“How many years?” Gray asks curiously. I can feel his eyes on me from behind and try not to think about how tight the skirt of my dress is. (For the record, it’s long enough to play pool without showing the world my underwear. I’m not an animal.)

“Bridge and I have pretty much been kindred spirits since birth,” Tally explains to him as I sink my first ball. “Mem didn’t move here ’til we were ten or so, but we became fast friends.”

“Oh, yeah?” asks Gray. “She didn’t scare you off with the black nail polish?”

Bridget cackles at that as I sink my second ball. “The nails, I could get past, but the emo band shirts almost got me.”

I groan as I shoot for my third and final stripe. “It was one AFI shirt, and you’ll never let me forget it!” My rage seems to will the ball into its hole; all I have left is the 8-ball. I glance at Gray and am annoyed-s***h-amused to find that he’s laughing along with Bridget about stupid AFI.

(They had some really good songs, guys. Don’t hate.)

“So what brought you together, then?” Kai asks curiously. “If not your love of emo music?”

I glance hesitantly at Tally. It’s her choice whether or not to answer that question; the answer is personal for her.

“We went through a certain… tragedy together,” she says quietly. “In times like that, you learn who your real friends are.”

I feel Gray’s eyes on me again, but I don’t meet them. Instead, I call my hole and sink the 8-ball.

“Thank God,” says Bridget. “Who’s up next?”

“Gray,” I answer immediately. “But first—let’s get another drink.”