Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6) Read online

  He says a grumbled response, so I quietly slip out.

  I can’t understand why he was so adamant on me taking the job. Like he had some sort of plan and I was tarnishing it by turning it down. My mind wanders to my mother and what she used to do to keep me close under her eye…but then I cross that idea out with a bold red marker. My mother wouldn’t do that, not now, for many reasons. One being she’s in Georgia. She sent me a picture of her and her new house. It’s a few blocks away from my grandma Millie. And secondly, I truly believe she’s over trying to keep me on a leash. I think she’s just ready to be free of any and all kinds of pressure. And I think the divorce is what drives this desire to finally be…happy.

  The divorce.

  My father.

  His cheating…

  I roll my eyes once I reach my desk. I’ve been giving him the cold shoulder ever since it was revealed he’d been having an affair behind my mother’s back for years. I never would have expected it from him. He always appeared feeble and harmless. Who would have known he’d been seeing another woman, living a double life? Being quiet and closed off with us, but probably wild and open to her. Selfish bastard.

  I kind of understand, though. After the accident, my mother turned into a strict monster who jetted off to Paris or Spain every weekend, working her way around the globe. Not making enough room for neither her child nor husband. She was distant too…but he should have acted as a husband normally would have, comforting her and just being there. Not sneaking off to please another woman.

  Ugh.

  I don’t understand or like or tolerate cheaters.

  Which is why I’ve been ignoring every single one of his texts and phone calls.

  “Knock knock.” I look up from my computer screen and smile.

  “Matty, come in.” I wave him in. He’s wearing a blue knit cardigan that nearly matches his eye color, with green patches for pockets, and pressed khakis.

  “What you up to?” he asks as he perches on the desk, eyes trained on me, behind his square glasses.

  “Nothing much, just some work.” I force a smile and click open a document blindly.

  He squints his eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?”

  I sigh and lean back in my leather chair. “I just gave up the New York paid internship and NYU.”

  His eyes widen ten times. “Why would you do that?”

  “Don’t say I’m dumb when I tell you,” I warn him with a pointed finger.

  He kisses two fingers and raises them in the air. “Scout’s honor,” he promises. I have no doubt he was a scout. Most likely the leader, at that.

  “I don’t want to leave Grey. He hates New York for some reason, and…and I’d have to leave him and start over, for what? I am perfectly happy where I am now. With him. Happy, so happy, Matty. I couldn’t pack up and leave him, not when we’re in such a great place.”

  He nods thoughtfully, gesturing to my hands on the desk. “How far along are you?”

  “What?” I look down at the ring on my finger and blush. “Oh, I’m not pregnant, and this isn’t an engagement ring.”

  “Then you must be crazy,” he says. “The Liv I know wouldn’t ever hesitate to take the opportunity.”

  “The Liv you know is secretly—actually not that much of a secret—insane for a guy named Grey,” I tell him.

  “You don’t say,” he teases, and I blush and pinch his thigh. “Ouch! Don’t hurt the merchandise!”

  “Who’s buying it? A certain girl named Delilah? Hmmm?” It’s my turn to tease him back. I twirl a pen through my fingers, watching his cheeks grow into a soft pink.

  “Maybe…not that it’s any of your business.” He raises a brow, skin pinched red.

  “Oh, it’s all of my business. Now, tell me your plans for your second date.” I lean forward on my elbows, tugging at one of his green pockets. “I need all of the deets.”

  ***

  “Fuck! It’s happening! Stop what you’re doing and—fuck—it’s happening!” Grey comes running into the kitchen, shouting like a fool on crack, as I’m stirring pasta sauce. I put down my textbook and pull my glasses above my head. I had been lightly studying for a test Monday while I cook dinner; the pasta’s nearly done.

  “Why are you screaming like a lunatic?” I turn to Grey.

  He picks me up into his arms, and I shriek in shock as he runs into the hallway.

  “Grey!” What is wrong with him?

  “The fight’s tonight,” he squeals as he drops me on the bed.

  I perk up, glaring at him as I push my hair behind my ears. He shuffles around the room, pulling out drawers. Pants fly everywhere. “What do you…oh! The fight?”

  He nods frantically and stalks over to me with a maniac’s grin. “Yes, the fight of the fucking century—it’s finally arrived!” He kisses my forehead before running into the closet. Hangers slide across the metal pole, squeaking. I cringe slightly but stand up, jogging over to our dresser, picking up clothes he tossed excitedly on the floor.

  “I thought we had another week or so, not tonight.” I switch out my shorts for a pair of jeans.

  “Does it matter? I’m finally going to be a UFC fighter. I can’t believe this,” he says, practically shaking his butt as he searches the ground for something.

  “Your gloves are in the bottom drawer, your side.” I lightly kick the drawer.

  He crawls over to it, casting me an annoyed pout. “Why’d you put them in here?”

  “Um, because I tripped over them last week.”

  “So?” he says insensitively.

  I gape at him, pausing as I pull on a cream jumper. “Excuse me?”

  “You have planners and bins, and I have the floor—it’s my organizer.”

  “Are we really going to argue over cleanliness all night, or are we going to watch you fight?” I put my hands on my hips.

  He licks his lips. “You’re right. We’re supposed to be there at eleven.”

  I check the clock on the wall. “It’s 9:40.”

  “Shit.” He pops to his feet and takes off his black shirt, tugging on a gray muscle tank top. “The place is kinda far, and there’s shit to do before like placing bets and—shit!” He rubs his forehead and breathes heavily like his heart is going to leap out of his open mouth any second.

  I cup his face and bring his head down so we’re eye-level. “Do not freak out. You’ve prepared for this moment. You have this, baby.”

  “Baby?” he teases, smirking.

  I roll my eyes and pinch his cheeks. He groans. “Don’t start with me. We need to leave, so hurry up.”

  “Okay, Ms. Bossy-pants.” He stands to his full height and sends me a flirty wink before pulling on a pair of black basketball shorts.

  I smile back before rushing over to my vanity. There is no time to fix it properly, so I just brush it out, cursing the stubborn curls, and pull my hair up in a ponytail.

  “Ready?” he asks, tugging on my hand despite my answer.

  “Yes.” I let him pull me out of the room. I grind my heels into the floor, smelling our burning dinner. “Wait. I have to turn off the stove.”

  “No time for that.” He tries to guide me to the elevator.

  “I want a house to come back to. Hold your horses.” I pat his butt playfully, and he growls at me. I laugh, turn off the stove, then leave with my eager fighter. Ready to punch some guy’s face.

  Shoot! I should have brought popcorn.

  Chapter Five

  Grey

  My blood is pumping like a freaking maniac. I can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My senses are heightened like hell. Lights surround the mostly dim-lit area. The buzzing of bets being placed sounds like one big gnat in my ear. I clutch Liv’s hand out of the little nerves eating at my jittery heart as I look around at the massive crowd surrounding the caged octagon. I’m a little shell-shocked. I’ve never been to an actual UFC ring before, so this is admittedly pretty damn daunting.

  I can’t bel
ieve this is happening.

  I’ve worked so hard for this, fought so hard, I’m surprised I’m still standing upright. The amount of sweat, tears, and blood that I put into this very moment is surreal. This is surreal. I feel like I’m dreaming, like this isn’t real. Any of it.

  We are guided to a sort of green room. Concrete floors and walls, a flat-screen TV of past fights, a vase of flowers. The place is much better than the shit-hole green rooms I stayed in before fights. The UFC really knows how to make their fighters feel loved, huh.

  I plop down on one of the black leather couches and watch Liv look around. She stands in front of the TV, watching the fights roll by, nervously toying with her charm bracelet. The letter G shines under the light, and I smirk and lean my elbows on my knees.

  “You shouldn’t be nervous, princess.”

  “I’m not nervous.” Yeah, right. Her voice just raised a slight octave.

  “You don’t have to lie, either.” I stand to my feet as she faces me. The look of fear and anxiety written on her face worries me. “Hey, don’t be upset.” I walk over to her and take her small hands in my much larger ones, rubbing the back of her soft skin. She smiles just a tad bit.

  “I’m not upset…just anxious,” she admits.

  I tuck her stray hairs behind her small elf-ears, smirking. “You don’t have to be. Trust me when I say I’m more than prepared.”

  “But this is such a big deal and—and these guys are good. What if you get hurt?”

  I laugh. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty damn good too.”

  “You know what I mean.” She glares at me.

  “I know.” I sigh and rub her cheeks gently, trying to relieve her worries. “But I’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know that?” she whines, gripping my wrists.

  “Because I said so. Believe me, it’s an honor for me to go in that ring and fight it out with the best of the best. If they beat my ass, I won’t be upset.”

  “But I will be,” she says, baring her teeth like she’d seriously take on the best fighters around. I kiss her, not to assure her, but because she’d fight for me, risk her life for me. I would do the same for her, and so much more. I’d fucking kill for this amazing, brave little princess. This girl has changed me in so many ways, it’s insane. She’s turned me into a man who aspires to be the kind she deserves, instead of an asshole, a beast who deserves nothing but the worst.

  “Hey,” she says, pulling away from my lips. “What are you thinking right now?” She brushes her thumb against a scar on my right temple, the result of a knife fight I got roped into a few years back. Then, I was fighting without reason, for nothing. But now…now I’m fighting to make her proud, and I’d put my life on the line. For her.

  I smile a little. “Just how glad I am I went to Julia’s room that day.”

  She blushes and glances to the side before succumbing to my eyes. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Oh, I know. I would have left, but I just couldn’t get myself to leave you.”

  “Creep.” She sticks her tongue out.

  I roll my eyes and admit, “It was so hard watching you writhe around because of your nightmare. Even then…I wanted to fight your demons.”

  She sucks in a sharp breath, then exhales with a smile. “If you keep this up, you’re going to make my heart explode.”

  I shrug and smirk. “I could watch a firework show.”

  “Oh, shut up.” She laughs.

  ***

  Liv

  People come in and out, talking to Grey about things I don’t understand. He signs a few things and settles whatever needs settling. I tense when a few floozy girls wearing short dresses and even shorter attention spans come into the room. Grey sends them out before they can even open their ugly traps. Stupid groupie floozies.

  “You okay there, princesa?” he asks with an amused smirk after they leave. He’s switched his basketball shorts out for tighter ones, and his chest is bare. Men in black uniforms tape his hands and help him get his fighter gloves on.

  “Yes, I just don’t like random girls coming in here,” I admit.

  “Honey, there’ll always be more.” A man laughs. I frown. Is he right? I trust Grey, but I despise the idea of girls just waltzing in here and lounging on him. I know he’s attractive, frightfully so. So I don’t particularly blame them…

  “Shut the fuck up,” Grey snaps, flexing his arms after the man snaps his glove shut. He turns to me and reassures me, pulling me into his chest despite him being crowded. He ignores the nasty stares from the employees. “You don’t have to worry about any girls. Ever. You are the only girl who has my eye…anybody who says differently can suck a big fat—”

  “Okay, I get it,” I cut him off, but he doesn’t stop glaring at the guy who spoke up.

  Everyone gets tense.

  A knock on the door breaks the tension, just a little bit. I think everyone’s kind of scared of him now, and they deal with hot-headed fighters all the time. So that’s saying something. The knock sounds again, followed by a faint, “Grey?”

  “Everyone get out,” Grey orders, eyes trained on the door.

  “Do you know who it is?” I ask him, and he squeezes my hand.

  “Yeah.” He jumps to his feet when no one really moves. “I said to get the fuck out!”

  I give them apologetic smiles as they rush out of the room. Geez, I think the nerves are getting to him. To my utter surprise, David appears after the people leave, a smile plastered on his face. Or his best friend is waiting on the other side of door.

  They hug, and I smile seeing how emotional it is for the both of them. David practically helped Grey get into the fighter life. Guarding and guiding him, booking him underground fights—he was a brother figure when Grey truly needed that. He was there for him every step of the way. I can only imagine how proud David must be. To practically raise up an angry boy betrayed by his own mother, angry at the entire world…and to end up here, where he’s dreamed and worked so hard to be. Tears build in my own eyes.

  Grey waves him in and closes the door behind him. “I thought you were in Miami.”

  “I was, but I had to come up. Did you seriously think I’d miss this?” David says, offended, but smiling all the same.

  “No.” Grey sheepishly rubs his neck.

  “Liv, how are you?” David hugs me.

  “I’m great. And you?” I return the hug with as much adoration.

  “Fucking fantastic.” He pulls away, grinning from temple to temple. He looks and sounds so happy, I wonder why…

  A knock makes us all look at the door.

  “And this is why,” David says slowly as he waltzes over to the door. “Guys, meet Amanda…”

  He opens the door, and I gasp. Holly stands on the other side of the door…pregnant. She’s holding her stomach with adoration, and I blink rapidly, shocked. I look over at Grey to find him as shocked at me.

  “Oh hush.” She steps inside, and David holds her from behind, gently guiding her in like she’s a glass doll. “We haven’t decided the name yet.”

  “But she’s going to be called Amanda,” David assures, and she laughs and places her hand on his cheek lovingly.

  “Don’t mind him, please.” She rubs her stomach.

  “How…how long are you?” I ask, my cheeks aching from my wide smile.

  Grey rubs my lower back, and I step to the side. He frowns but keeps quiet.

  “Six months now,” she informs me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was pregnant when you were here last week?” Grey asks, sounding annoyed.

  “We were just patching things up. I didn’t want to bring it up just yet.” David blushes.

  “You guys gonna wait for the thing—”

  “She.” David rolls his eyes.

  “To pop out, or are you marrying her anyway?”

  David rolls his eyes again and sighs. “The wedding’s still happening next month.”

  December. The cursed month.


  “I’m so happy this is happening for you, Grey!” Holly shrieks, bombarding him with a hug.

  “Aren’t I squishing the thing?” Grey mumbles, arms awkwardly held out.

  “Grey,” I scold, pulling him back.

  “You weren’t.” Holly laughs. “My stomach is basically a shield for her.”

  “I’m so happy for you guys. Having a baby is a really magical thing,” I say honestly. The way they’re glowing makes me a little jealous…but I don’t let it get to me too much. Grey and I already settled not to talk about children or marriage, both of which we are nowhere prepared for—though a part of me feels he’ll never be prepared, and I don’t know how I feel about that.

  The door opens, and a chunky guy wearing a headset pushes his head inside. “Grey, the match is starting.”

  Grey’s eyes spark, and everyone looks around at each other.

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road.”

  ***

  “Welcome to UFC!” a man with graying hair and wearing a tux bellows into a microphone. The crowd goes wild, and the floors vibrate. I feel a little intimidated. Cameras fly overhead, men on the ground panning around the fighters in the ring…Grey and a heavily tatted man with caramel skin and a frightening scowl. But Grey doesn’t look scared one bit.

  “Are you nervous?” Holly asks in my ear.

  “No.” Then I look down at my wrung hands and blush. “Maybe a little bit…”

  She chuckles and waves a hand. “He’ll be fine. Plus, he’s got someone in his corner.” She points at David. He’s standing on the outside of the chained octagon, talking to Grey, who is focused on glaring at his opponent, nodding every few seconds.

  “He is quite terrifying, isn’t he?” Holly says, staring at Grey with unease.

  “Yes.” I smile. “He is.”

  “…And in this corner, we have newcomer Grey Wyler. The man who’s been buzzing like crazy! Please, welcome him to the…octagon!” the suit-man shouts into the mic.