Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6) Page 2

  “Where are you going?” David asks me as I rush over to my car.

  I look at my phone, at the tracker that shows where Liv is. “New York…wait, what?”

  Chapter Two

  “You’re where?” Jaimie exclaims, brown eyes widening in shock.

  “New York,” I huff out, lacing my fingers through my loose hair. I settle my laptop on the marble counter and tie my hair up in a bun. I think I shudder. It feels like it’s been forever since I had it up in this hairstyle. It’s not gelled or neat in any way…yet it reminds me of him. How he told me he liked my hair down better. That I looked pretty like this…

  Jaimie snaps her fingers, and I return my attention to her. “Hello? You were telling me you’re in New York.”

  “Oh, right.” I blush, thankful she couldn’t see where I went to just now. “Yeah, I thought I should get away. We’re kind of arguing or feuding—I think—over a sensitive subject. One we won’t see eye to eye on.”

  “What’s the subject?”

  “Oh, um, marriage and children?”

  “The M and C words?” she spits out.

  “Yes.” I nod, feeling guilty for some reason. Maybe it’s because she’s looking at me like I just murdered a horde of puppies.

  “Those are the biggest steps, like, ever, Liv,” she says like I don’t know that.

  “I know,” I agree.

  “You don’t start talking about that until at least a few years in. Not now.”

  “I know, Jaimie.”

  “So why are you guys talking about it now?”

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head as it settles in how huge the topics are. How everlasting they are. They are things we’re not ready for. But it’s not like I want them to happen right now, just in my future. And Grey’s saying I can’t have either one at all. It’s the most frustrating thing, because I want to stay with him; I want him in my life. I don’t see anyone other than him. No other man could ever make me feel so…myself, loved, alive. He is the one for me. But he’s saying he doesn’t want more, and I have always pictured myself having more.

  “Then stop talking about it.” She shrugs.

  “I can’t.” I rub my eyes, feeling a slight headache pressing against my eyelids.

  “Why not?” she questions.

  “Because…because I like to think about my future. Always have.”

  “Why?” Jaimie asks softly, watching as I slowly remove my hands from my teary eyes.

  “Because…because I didn’t plan That Night, either nights. I could have been killed in two different scenarios, almost lost my life without really living. If I learned anything from those traumatic events, it’s that I can’t be afraid to live. And that I want to leave something behind, not just my love for Grey. It’s indescribable in itself, but I can’t help but wonder…is it enough?”

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  “Jaimie…”

  “What does it tell you, Liv?” she asks, firmer.

  “That…that it is more than enough, actually. So much so that it consumes me and everything I do. It’s why I haven’t accepted the NY deal and am considering giving up marriage and children, my life’s goals. Sometimes I think it’s a little bit too much, like it’s controlling me.”

  “There’s no such thing as being ‘too in love,’” Jaimie claims with a dismissive hand wave.

  “Oh yeah? Then what about stalkers?”

  She shrugs and says, “They just take shit to a whole other level. Look, I love Julia with all my heart. In fact, I’d stalk the bitch if we weren’t together. That’s how much I love her. I’d give her a kidney…actually, I wouldn’t. She already has my heart.”

  “If you want to fuck, just say so. There’s no need to butter me up like bread,” Julia’s voice echoes behind Jaimie, who is sitting on the mouth-shaped couch.

  “That wasn’t my intention…but we’re gonna fuck when I’m done here. No take back-sies!” Jaimie calls out and blushes when Julia replies with something I can’t hear over my laughter. They are insatiable…but in a surprisingly good way. They love each other in the simplest way, without any complications or obstacles or heart-wrenching fights. As I watch Jaimie look back at me with the brightest smile and twinkling brown eyes, I feel a pang of jealousy. Why can’t Grey be like them? Uncomplicated?

  “I’ll let you go do…whatever,” I tell her, shyly blushing from my neck to my ears. I attempt to rub away the embarrassment as her eyes glint, but her words contradict what she really wants. To make love to her partner. That’s what I should be doing with Grey, and happily, but instead I’m in one of my mother’s homes. It’s the ridiculously lavish penthouse smack-dab in the upper east side, the area where all the rich snobs of New York City reside.

  “No, no, that’s fine. I want to talk to you,” Jaimie says, making me look at her and not the almost non-existent steel ceiling with hanging chandeliers that make the floors and glass walls shine.

  “I’ll talk to you later, Jaimie.” I wave at her with a knowing smirk.

  She blushes uncharacteristically and blows me a kiss. “Love you, bitch.”

  “I love you too.” I chuckle at her vulgarity and close my laptop.

  Almost immediately, a Skype call-incoming ringtone goes off. Smirking, I open the laptop again and blindly accept the call.

  “You guys done that…Matthew?” I sit up on the kitchen stool. I gasp as I scan his face.

  He has a black eye and looks paler than normal.

  “Hey, Liv.” He sighs. I cringe at how crackly his voice sounds, like he’s been crying for days.

  “Why haven’t you answered my calls or texts, and why do you have a black eye? Matthew.”

  “I lost my phone in the club. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, but I’m already over it. He’s hurt.

  “What…what happened to you?” I exclaim, feeling my heart speed up.

  “You should see the other guy.” His smile is dejected.

  “What other guy? Matthew, talk to me.”

  He sighs and hangs his head, running a hand through his golden hair. “I played the hero last night and almost got killed.”

  “Elaborate,” I demand. He’s talking too slow.

  He gulps and looks around his apartment; I know he’s there because of the picture of him and his husky, Jackson, on the living room table beside him. “Last night, I saw Lily and this guy get into an argument. Or so I thought. I left Delilah dancing to see what was going on. Turns out the guy was her ex and baby daddy, and he didn’t approve of her working in the club. I tried to calm him down, but next thing I know, his fist is in my face, just beating me. I got some hits in, but not before he started going off on Lily. Thankfully, with five other guys—dude was freaking huge—we knocked him out.”

  “Oh my gosh, that is horrible!” I gasp into my hands.

  He nods with glazed eyes. “It was pretty intense.”

  No wonder Lily hasn’t been answering my calls and ignored me that night she came to pick up Max. She was in an abusive relationship. A guy doesn’t just hit a girl out of the blue. She doesn’t just leave the country for a change of scenery…“I feel horrible. I should be there, tracking her down and comforting her, and you, yet I’m here in New York. So selfish.”

  “Don’t feel bad. You knew nothing about it. And…New York?” His dark blonde brows scrunch up in a frown as he looks behind me. “Why are you there in the city? You and Grey finally going on that New York vacation?”

  “No.” I sigh, feeling my heart drop to the floor like a raindrop. “Grey and I are having a little…spat, and I thought I should get some space. Clear my mind, you know?”

  “Wanna talk about it?” he asks like the sweet person he is, despite the fact that he’s been through worse times than me.

  “No,” I tell him honestly. I’m tired of talking about it. It’ll just re-open the tear in my heart I’ve mildly sewn closed.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” I assure him. “Now, tell me about your date
with Delilah.”

  A smile breaks out on his face. He goes on and on about how she looked freaky hot, and how she danced all on him, and how he got butterflies in his stomach every time she smiled at him or laughed at his corny jokes, and how her lips felt like kissing cotton balls, and how her hands were nice to hold, and how she invited him into her place, but he declined because he is a natural gentleman who doesn’t initiate intimacy until it’s appropriate and not a quick fuck.

  A yawn cuts him off as he gushes about how he felt to have saved Lily.

  “Oh no, you’re tired. You should go to sleep,” he tries to convince me.

  “No, I’m—” Yawn. “I’m totally good. Keep going.”

  “No, you need to get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Fine.” I cave in, stifling another yawn. It’s midnight, and I haven’t really slept since last night. We say our goodbyes, and I lean my head against the counter, exhausted.

  I let out an airy breath and stand, looking around, bored out of my mind and extremely lonely. I didn’t think about what I’d do once I got here. I just thought about leaving and drove, and drove, and drove. The drive took almost five hours, considering some traffic. Guiltily, I thought about not going back. I’d just buy a new wardrobe, live here in this paid apartment—thank you, Mother—and take the paid internship. I’d attend NYU and live the normal, happy life I imagined my college years to be…only I wouldn’t really be happy.

  Not without Grey…

  I fall back onto the plush white velvet sofa, unable to make it up the many glass stairs that lead to the bedroom, where an enormous king bed awaits with satin white sheets. I stare up at the thousand-dollar chandeliers, then let my eyes linger, admiring and hating how beautiful this penthouse suite is. Dark wood, white accent furniture, mostly French or Italian. Built-in wall fireplace, glass coffee tables, a black piano set under the slightly spiral staircase. The place is something you’d admire in a magazine.

  I try to sleep, but my exhaustion turns out to be a figment of my imagination. Like the night before, I am unable to fall under the warm blanket of sleep. I travel all the way upstairs and snuggle underneath the heavy comforter, dreaming of arms wrapped securely around me. His scent that’s become my home, my lullaby. But I just can’t imagine something that is not here in the flesh.

  I end up downstairs, sitting at the piano. Maybe some music will put me to sleep. The moment I rest my fingers on the keys, it drags me under a spell of fascination and alertness. Not what I was hoping for, but the feeling is too exquisite to let go of. I sway to the soft melody of the music flowing through me. I make a cup of lavender tea and stay up for more than half an hour, trapped in the music and warmth that stops at my chest from the tea.

  I am moving onto another Beethoven piece when I hear a knock at the front door. The music stops abruptly, making me cringe. I get up and cautiously walk over to the door, then stop a few feet in front of it. Who could this possibly be, especially at this time of night? It’s almost one in the morning. Whoever it is has to be either a serial killer or the concierge, the only one who is allowed up here. Hoping it’s the latter, I slowly unlock and open the dark wooden door.

  “Grey?” I gasp. I was not expecting to see him here. How did he even know where I was?

  He looks just as surprised as me, eyes jutting around and widening in shock. Then they settle back on me. My throat tightens, and I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Hey, princess.” His voice is low, raspy, and enough to make my legs scrunch up together. He notices but doesn’t say anything.

  “How did you find me?” I ask him. I don’t know how to feel about this…

  He leans against the door frame, his classic smug smile I fell for draping across his face. “I have my ways…”

  I don’t even want him to clarify that or ask how he got the code to come up here.

  Silence crackles between us, tension and uncertainty simmering.

  “Are you gonna let me in or…?” He raises a brow, and I blush and step back, opening the door wider. He steps in, towering over me with intimidation and power in the way he looks around the place, hands stuffed in his jeans. “Nice place.” He looks over his shoulder. “Moving on already?”

  I roll my eyes as I close the door. “This is my mother’s. Not mine.”

  “Sure.” He nods, unbelieving.

  “Did you come here to fight with me?” I ask, annoyed, crossing my arms over my chest.

  His face flushes, and he shakes his head, turning his body to face me. “No, actually, that’s the last thing I want. Can we sit down and talk?”

  About what?

  “Sure,” I say instead, eyeing the piano. “Over here.” I walk over to the grand piano, and he follows suit. He sits uneasily on the padded bench, his large body almost taking up the entire space. I smile discreetly and place my fingers on the keys. “Talk,” I tell him as I softly hit the keys in a low melody. A few seconds pass before I glance at him. I find him staring at me. “What?”

  His brows crease, and he tugs on his lip. “You just…your hair.”

  “Talk, Grey,” I say, harsher than intended. I left him to claim my independence, that I don’t have to cave under his soothing touch and sweet words however he wields them against me, making me conform to him.

  Hurt flashes across his face, and I instantly regret it. He doesn’t look like he came here to make trouble but to get rid of it.

  I turn my head so my hair’s facing him. “Mind taking it out for me? You made me prefer it down.”

  “Um, sure. Yeah.” I can hear the blush in his voice, the happy smile in his words. I smile as his fingers tug at the band and fling it on the piano top before running his hands, knuckle-deep, through my thick hair. He brings it all to the right side of my shoulder, fingertips grazing my skin. I suck in a deep breath and face the piano, and his hand falls.

  “Thank you.” I continue playing the piano.

  He bites his lip, and silence ensues. “I miss you.”

  I mess up a note and look up into his eyes, deep and dark and mesmerizing. I look at the keys. “You mean you miss my body, not me.”

  “No.” His hands come into view, under my playing hands, and gently takes them in his palm. He twists my body so I am facing him, unable to look away to hide the tears in my eyes. He wipes one away, my emotions draining like a leaky pipe. “I miss you, the whole of you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you have become a part of me, the best part.” He smiles, and his eyes scan my face, as if soaking in every detail for the first time and loving what he sees. My heart explodes in my chest.

  “Yet you don’t want a family with me.” I ruin the moment. I am a true masochist at heart, even when I don’t mean to be.

  His smile falters, but his hold on me never does, physically or spiritually. “Do you wanna know why I am opposed to marriage and kids? Truly, one hundred percent, no bullshit or lies?” he asks, and I nod my head frantically. It’s what I’ve wanted for the longest time; it’s the reason I’m in this penthouse. He takes a deep breath, and his hand gropes my wrists, like he needs my energy for support. “It’s because I’m scared.”

  “Scared? Of what?”

  He gulps, and his fingers dig a little deeper, like it’s taking everything in him to speak. “Scared that…that I won’t be enough. That you’ll get tired of me. That you’ll regret committing so permanently with me. That I’ll lose my mind because of my disease and pass it to my offspring. Everything and in between, honestly.”

  “Oh, Grey.” I use the hand move he taught me from training and press my thumbs in his skin lightly, giving whatever energy he needs from me. But it isn’t enough, because he pulls me into his chest for a tight hug. I hug him back and close my eyes, a blissful sigh escaping my lips. I rub the upper part of his back, where the words of his commitment have seeped into his skin.

  “B-but if you really need that commitment, you can leave me.” He pulls back, and I wipe away some tear
s of vulnerability and terror from his cheek. “I’ll be crushed, but…but if that’s what you need—”

  I shake my head, keeping my own tears at bay. Barely. “What I need is you, always you. You shouldn’t be afraid of what you are, because I will never get tired of you, nor will I regret loving you. Loving you is the one thing I’ve done in my years of plans and preparation for my future. Grey, you are my future. Ring or not. Baby or not.”

  “Damn.” He hands his head.

  “What?” I push his leather jacket up, gently rubbing his inked arms.

  He digs into his jacket pocket and holds up a ring. “I already got you this promise ring.”

  My eyes widen. I swoon over the little single diamond silver ring. “You did not…Grey, this is absolutely beautiful!”

  His face lights up like a candle as he grins. “Good. Spent a pretty penny on it. A whopping dollar from some gum-ball machine,” he jokes. At least, I hope he is…

  “Shut up.” I nudge his shoulder, and he laughs.

  “I know this isn’t the big deal, but I’m not ready for the big ‘I do’s.’ I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready…Liv, do you promise to stand by my side even if I don’t wear a stupid tie or knock you up with an alien-baby?”

  I laugh at his silliness but nod, the tears coming down like a thunderstorm. “Yes. You’re it for me.”

  “Good.” He sighs in relief, like there was a chance I’d say no to this wonderful, sweet man. He slips the ring onto my left middle finger. “There. Now when I piss you off, you can show this off when you give me the middle finger.”

  “How considerate.” I playfully roll my eyes.

  He smiles like he’s at the happiest place on the earth. “Wanna sing me a song now?”

  “Sure.” I face the piano, my head leaning against his arm, his wrapped securely around my waist.