The Happy List (Better With You, #1)

by Briar Prescott

“You gave me your old PlayStation because you got a new one for Christmas.” “I don’t remember you being that critical when you unwrapped my very thoughtful gift.” “Duuude,” he drags out. “You used the box of your new PlayStation, so I was led to believe I’d received a new one.”

“Shh,” I say as I pat the wheel. “He’ll hear you.” “He?” Gray arches his brow. “Aren’t vehicles usually a she?” “He seemed more appropriate when considering how much time I spend inside him.”

“I can’t even express how much I hate everything you just said. In fact, it might be my new least favorite sentence, and I’ve heard I don’t like blow jobs uttered to me while I was going down on a guy.”

It’s probably not a good idea. Considering my weakness for all things Gray, I should not risk it. A smart person would say no and find his own place. I’m not a smart person, though, so I nod and say, “Sure.”

This here is the part that ruins some of the overall ease of living with Gray. These unwanted echoes of my long-ago crush. It’s nothing too worrisome, though. Once everything settles and I’m thoroughly used to living with Gray, those remnants of feelings will disappear. They better.

“Just… good lights. In the ceiling.” “That is technical,” Gray drawls. “No wonder you thought I wouldn’t get it. Hey, as a lighting expert, what are those things called in the ceiling of my office? I’ve been referring to them as little suns and asking the maintenance to fuel my tiny suns every time one of them burns out, and then I yell a star is born when it shines again in the morning.”

“What if I suck?” He shrugs. “There’s always a chance that’s true. In the spirit of honesty, there will most definitely be people who will look at your work and think, what a talentless asshole.” “Oh wow. I feel so much better now.”

“I’ll end up with a boatload of, I don’t even know… chairs that’ll remind me of my failure for years to come. Eventually I’ll start conversing to the chairs because I’m so bitter and lonely, and before you know it, I’ll start treating them as my children, and you’ll start receiving Christmas cards from me and my family of chairs. I’ll die surrounded by my chair children, and you’ll have to transport them all to my funeral and set them up next to the grave, which is both sad and convenient because my human mourners, the few there might be, can sit on my kids.”

“I’ll obviously pick one of the chairs to be my lawfully wedded husband. I’m not going to be a single father, Grayson.”

Technically, I’m supposed to be at work, but I cut my day short. By about eight hours or so.

I had tried so hard not to rock the boat that in the process I’d forgotten that some motion was necessary in order to move at all.

“March has disguised itself as a spring month when in reality, it’s the dying cry of winter.”

“That’s sweet,” Cee says pointedly. There’s more cheese here than in a cheese factory, but yeah, okay, let’s call it sweet.

Commence operation Erection-What-Erection-I-Felt-Nothing. Code name EWEIFN, for short.

I’m a lawyer, so I should know the answer, but is it legal to rip somebody’s arm off? I can’t seem to remember.

“I think I can find something to occupy myself with,” he says, and I go freaking hot all over. Gray just wordlessly turns back toward the stove and leaves me to deal with my dysfunctional brain cells.

“You put on Coldplay. The sexiest of all musics! J’accuse!”

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” I try to shake off the bad mood. Mon looks worried, and none of this is her fault, so I shouldn’t take it out on her. “I’m fine.” Desperately crushing on my best friend and sexually frustrated, but fine.

The night did not go according to my plan. I was supposed to clear the air between us, but instead of standing my ground, I attacked him. And not even with my words but with my lips.

“Can I come in?” Gray nods toward my room. He’s wearing a pair of sleep pants and nothing else. The power of the chest is so magnificent that I immediately step aside, letting him pass.

Middle of the night is not a good time for making sound decisions. The late hour halts rational thought like nobody’s business.

As long as I understand that nothing between us is permanent, it’s going to be fine. As long as I can keep fooling myself that I’m not in love, I will not end up with my heart in million tiny pieces.

I’m not sure if coming hands-free while fingering somebody’s ass would qualify as pathetic or awesome,

I know him through and through, and that’s what makes him so unbelievably sexy to me.