Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6)

by Allison White

  We talk and laugh as he walks me home. He tells me about his roommate stealing all of his food constantly, so he plans on pranking him with each piece of food item he takes. Already, he has a Twinkie filled with toothpaste and pizza dough stuffed with Play-Doh. The ideas are genius, but incredibly mean, but at the same time, really deserving. It’s a great thing I don’t live with roommates.

  I admire how easy it is to talk to him, to laugh. I can see the glint in his eyes when I smile at him when he makes a joke. I hope he doesn’t think this means anything romantically. I don’t nor will I ever like him that way. I don’t know if it’s because of Grey, but I don’t find the appeal in him or any other guys, for that matter.

  When we finally arrive at my penthouse door, he turns to me with a lazy, tired smile. “I hope you had fun tonight. I might skip bowling and hit the sack. I have to get up early and put Nair in his shampoo,” he says and adds when I raise my eyebrows in question, “He’s also a douche.”

  I laugh and pat his shoulder, opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Justin.”

  “Sure thing. Good night, Olivia.” He winks at me before I walk over to the elevator and get inside. I smile as the doors close; he gives a little short wave before they do. I hope he gets home safe. I make a mental note to call or text him later just to make sure. It’d only be right after he just walked me all the way home. He is really sweet.

  Sighing, I walk inside and lock the door behind me. I am so tired. All I want in life is a nice cup of lavender tea before getting in my pajamas and sliding under thick sheets. I want to sleep for the rest of the year, I decide as I yawn in my palm, toeing off my sneakers.

  “Have fun?” Grey asks behind me as I’m shrugging off my coat.

  I whirl around and jump. He’s sitting at one of the kitchen stools, watching me with eyes that blend into the pitch black. Enough light shines through the high windows that, after a second I see the outline of his lean body. I flip on the light to the kitchen, and his eyes give me my second fright. So intense and black, and geez. They’re staring right through me.

  “You scared the crap out of me,” I admit to him, walking into the kitchen. He only hums, doesn’t reply in words as I take my favorite purple cup down from one of the cupboards. I look over my shoulder as I warm up water in the mug.

  “Everything okay?” I ask him, leaning against the counter.

  He breathes heavily through his nose, leaning against the high-back stool. “Yeah. Peachy. I was just waiting up for you. When, lo and behold, Justin dropped you off.” His tone is accusatory, but his gaze is questioning. Intimidating.

  “Oh.” My cheeks flourish a bright red. I jump when the microwave announces it’s done working. I take out the mug, processing his obvious jealousy that isn’t really necessary. We didn’t do anything compromising in any way. “He walked me home,” I finally answer after I dip the tea bag in the water. I add some honey to it and swirl the spoon around. Sweet, I smile as I sip. I look up after a while of silence.

  He’s still staring at me.

  “Did he now?” Again, accusatory laces his words heavily.

  “Yes.” I nod and take a large sip. “He didn’t want me to walk home alone. It’s really dark out and unsafe.”

  Appreciation and respect crosses his expression. “Good, I guess.” But then he rubs his face and glares at me. “But why didn’t you just call me? I could have picked you up.”

  “He offered to walk me. I couldn’t say no.”

  “Yes, you say it to me all the time,” he sneers, referring to when he proposed.

  “What does it matter now? I’m home, aren’t I?” I roll my eyes in annoyance, walking around him to the stairs.

  He mumbles something.

  “What?” I turn to him, and he jumps to his feet.

  “I said you aren’t home. This place is not your home.” He gestures around, then stares through me with those eyes of his. “This is temporary because you will be coming home with me.”

  I furrow my brows and shake my head. “This is my home for the moment, maybe forever.”

  He looks taken aback, then he screeches, “What?”

  “I said—” I begin.

  “I know what you fucking said!” he snaps.

  “You said what?” I shout, even though I know what he meant.

  He rolls his eyes, pinches his nose bridge. “You’re not staying here forever, Liv. I already gave you two months—”

  “Shut up, you stupid idiot,” I exclaim.

  “What?” He looks me up and down, walks over to me. Sniffs me.

  “Gross. What are you doing?” I take a step up the stairs, and he glares up at me.

  “You’re drunk,” he accuses, teeth bared.

  “Not a lot—” I begin to counter.

  “You’re drunk, and you let him walk you home?” he says loudly, looks at me like I’m the dumbest person to ever live. My bottom lip wobbles. I’m suddenly emotional for some reason. “Oh God.” He sighs, realizing his mistake. Yelling at a drunk Liv. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  “You should be,” I say. “He was just being a good friend and walking me home. We haven’t seen each other in two months, and when we do, you’re ordering me around and making me feel dumb. I know what I’m doing when you aren’t around. This is the exact reason why I came here. To find myself when you aren’t bossing me around and dictating what I do, think, and believe.”

  “Liv—” he begins, guilt truly in his eyes.

  “Goodnight, Grey,” I mutter, too exhausted to fight with him. I sip my tea as I make my way up the stairs.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  He wasn’t there when I woke up the next morning. I thought he would be because he wouldn’t leave. I didn’t say anything too bad, only the truth. If anything, he was the one saying mean, stupid stuff. I hate that he thinks I should be dependent on him, listen to everything he says.

  There are a few things I dislike about him, and his control over me is one of those things. He believes he can say one thing and I’ll follow behind him like a loyal puppy. I am loyal to him, but not in that way. Never in that way.

  I forced myself not to feel sad about his lack of presence and got ready. I was studying the entire day with my school friends. I never thought I’d make so many friends when I came here.

  But I found a lot of common interests like school and career aspirations with the people I interacted with. And over time, I grew to like them and the routine. I love routine. The knowing of what to do next so you don’t have to worry. I even started using my planner again.

  I’d missed planning the days, having things in just the right order. I stopped when I met Grey. I tried to keep up with my goals and pinpoints for the days, but it just got too hard to keep up when he threw everything out of whack. Plans for days—gone. My precious order—gone.

  But among the things he stole from me were my restless nights of terror, my first kiss and virginity, the never-ending hole of emptiness Jonah’s death created in my chest. He took away the negatives, threw in a few new ones just because. But he also gave me positives after positives. He made my life better.

  Then guilt sets in as I’m going over a review worksheet. Even though he was being an asshole-douche last night, he was, in his own very special way, worried about my safety. He’s always wanted me to be safe. It’s been his main priority, to maintain my protection from the bad. I admire him for it, though I get angry at him trying to reach his insane goal of total protection from the entire world. But it is still very admirable.

  He admitted that he would have picked me up, but Justin had just offered, and I really couldn’t say no. It would have been rude and stupid. Grey would have taken forever, and I would have felt kind of guilty. To have him pick me up from drinking with friends, having the time of my life, when I left him to, well, have the time of my life.

  I still stand by the reason why I came: to figure myself out and feel more of, well, myself. I was too attached to him. I lost my true self a
little, and when I realized that I got so scared, so desperate to fix that. I started to change the way I thought, what I’ve desired for him. And that was not healthy or smart for me. Not one bit.

  I had to get out of there, but that didn’t expel the strong feelings I have for him. They will always remain there for him, sturdy and electric and never-ending. My love for Grey Wyler is never-ending, I assure you.

  “Olivia.” I am nudged, ripped out of my thoughts.

  “Sorry, what?” I say, looking around at the people I’ve befriended.

  They laugh, and Jasmine smiles teasingly. “Daydreaming about Justin?”

  “What? No, of course not.” I try not to scrunch my face up in disgust. By the gasps from the girls and the “are you serious” brow raises by the guys, I know I didn’t succeed in my discreet dislike.

  “The guy’s pure sex,” someone says.

  Everyone nods.

  I blush and give a shake of my head. “Not my type. And he’s just a friend.” Desperate to change the subject, I point to the review paper with my pen. “Shall we get back to studying?”

  “Fuck the studying. Let’s talk about why you’re not jumping Justin’s bones,” Jasmine says, pushing her books to the side to lean over the library table. Everyone else leans closer to me, googly eyes and curiosity radiating off of their bodies.

  I laugh unsteadily, threading my fingers through my hair. “I’m not ‘jumping his bones’ because I’m not interested in him.”

  Girls scoff, and boys roll their eyes.

  “Why not?” Jasmine presses.

  “Because I have a boyfriend!” I exclaim.

  She rolls her eyes. “Fine. So don’t say anything when I make my move on him tonight.” She gives me a pointed look that makes me give her a strained smile. Her eyes read, “We’re fucking tonight.”

  I give her a thumbs up. “Congrats. Now.” I pick up my psychology textbook. “Can we get back to the work now? You know Mr. Davis will castrate us if we don’t get at least a ninety-five on his next quiz.”

  “Frets the girl who gets one hundred every single time,” Jasmine teases, rolling her eyes.

  I blush and ignore everyone’s envious gazes, continuing to study my heart out.

  ***

  When I get home, I plan on putting on sweats and my favorite pair of fuzzy socks and catching up on some TV shows. Preferably some housewife reality TV show. I’ll drink some nice, refreshing wine and finally be able to relax. I feel like I’ve been doing so many social things since I came here.

  Which is good, since I spent eighteen years of my life as a loner without any friends. But at the same time, I feel kind of drained and in much need for a wind down. But later tonight, I’m going ice skating with friends. Which will be fun. I guess. I have to bask in moments like this before I get too old to remember them.

  I feel sad for some reason as I unlock my door. Opening the door, I feel him here. That electric charge, our connection fizzles beneath my skin. I quickly toe off my shoes, shrug off my coat, pluck off my beanie, and place them all where they belong.

  “Grey? Are you here?” I call out. From the looks of it, he isn’t around. But that doesn’t make sense. I feel him. I sound weird and witchy, but I swear there is this signal in me that just knows when he’s close by.

  Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

  Deciding to give him time—and kind of pumped because he came back—I head upstairs to my room. I hear the shower running. He must be in one of the two guest rooms.

  I take off my light pink sweater that has a coffee stain from this morning and take off my jeans. I let my ponytail down after undoing my bra. It’s too tight, and I want to be comfortable when ice skating. Plus, the wire breached the fabric and began poking me while I was studying.

  My heart stutters and my skin sizzles with eyes watching me.

  I whip around and gasp. “Grey…I didn’t see you there.” Consciously, I drape my arm over my chest.

  He’s leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed and eyes intense and dark as they look me up and down. He’s thumbing his full pink bottom lip. Naked save for the white towel wrapped loosely around his hips, he makes me lick my lips. I shove my naughty thoughts in a corner of my mind and lock the door behind them.

  “Just got out of the shower. I heard shuffling in here…” He pauses, and his eyes roam my body once again. Drinking me in. I feel thirsty. For him, I realize. I swallow the lump in my throat, lick my lips again. His eyes watch as I jut my tongue out.

  He walks inside, his steps slow and intentional. “Why are you covering up in front of me?” he asks, curiously, voice raspy.

  “I…I don’t know,” I say honestly. I’ve been naked in front of him a million times. He knows every dip and curve and detail of my body. He knows me better than I know myself.

  His gaze scans my body, then his hand is on my wrist, pulling my arm down from my chest. I suck in a breath as he takes a step back. The back of my knees hit the bed behind me.

  “Don’t cover yourself in front of me. Okay?” he demands, but his voice is soft and pleading.

  I can’t speak in fear of asking him to do bad things to me, so I nod.

  He smirks, and his finger trails up my side. “You’re still so beautiful,” he whispers. “Always will be.”

  “Grey,” I gasp, taking a step back. I fall onto the bed, and it’s too perfect. He stares down at me, his hand toying with his lower lip. It’d be so easy to raise my feet, lock them around his waist, and pull him down onto me…but I can’t. We can’t. Our relationship is too weird. Adding sex would only complicate things even further.

  I sit up. “There are extra clothes in the bedroom next door,” I inform him, voice firm and low. I get up, cover my chest, and pad over to my dresser. My throat feels tight and I feel horrible, but it’s for the best.

  He steps back, his face frowning in hurt, but then it’s blank and he gives me a single nod. “Got it.” Even if I feel dejected as he spins on his heels and begins to walk out of the room. I frown after his muscular back, feel my heart clutch at the words that could have been written in vain. And then I remember something.

  “Oh yeah! I won’t be back until late, maybe twelve,” I tell him, then wonder if he will still be here. Does he feel rejected enough? And then I quickly add, “But you can come if you want, if you aren’t leaving tonight…” I bite my lip as I put on a black lace bra. He’s quiet, so I turn around as I tug my jeans over my butt.

  His eyes quickly raise, and I can’t help but smile at catching him checking me out. “Where are you going?” He crosses his arms, his muscles rippling under his strong, tatted arms. I look up at his curly black hair that’s thicker, and his beard that’s growing fuller.

  Damn, my mind whistles.

  “Liv?” he says, smirking at catching me checking him out. The roles have reversed, and I blush and finish zipping up my jeans.

  “To Central Park to ice skate,” I tell him. I curiously watch him as I take out a white cashmere sweater and pull it on. My hair is everywhere in front of my face when my head pulls through the hole.

  He laughs and walks over to me. His large hands are pushing my hair to the sides of my face before I can see it coming. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Oh, come on. You have to experience New York, the big juicy apple.”

  He laughs. “I’ll bust my ass,” he says.

  “I’ll teach you,” I tell him, smiling from temple to temple. “But you’ll have to wait in line behind…” I stop talking and turn around, clearing my throat. Did I really almost say that? Such an idiot.

  “Behind who?” he asks.

  “No one.” I smile lamely at him over my shoulder.

  Growling impatiently, he turns me around, pushes me against the wall next to my dresser. “Behind who, Liv?” he asks again, but rougher this time.

  I rub my thighs together. “A friend.”

  “Does this friend have a name?” He asks nicely, but his smile tries to take away from the d
eadly look in his eyes.

  “Um…”

  “Liv.”

  “Fine…Justin, but you—”

  He rolls his eyes. “I’ll go.”

  “—have nothing to worry about—” I begin to assure him.

  But his hand covering my mouth and narrowed, untrusting eyes shut me up.

  “I said I’m going,” he repeats, baring his teeth and pressing himself to me.

  More thigh rubbing.

  Chapter Fifty

  The ice-skating rink is moderately packed tonight. Families are dressed in bundles, the toddlers resembling stuffed tater tots with their heavy coats. I can’t help but aw at each one that passes me, waving enthusiastically. I wave back and catch Grey scrunching his face up each time it happens, which is a lot. I swallow the sad lump in my throat and keep walking.

  “You made it!” Justin shouts with the biggest smile on his face. He’s standing among our group of friends as they put on their skates, chatting and laughing freely.

  “Of course I did!” I exclaim, letting a smile overtake my face.

  Grey wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to his side as we walk over to the group. I roll my eyes, blushing for some reason, and lean into him. I can’t help it. Not even when he’s acting like a jealous ass for absolutely no reason.

  “Hi. You are?” Justin holds out his hand. If it weren’t for his genuine smile, you’d think he meant it as a diss. But he’d never do that. I just don’t talk about Grey that much, admittedly. Grey frowns and looks at me. While on the path to finding myself, Grey hasn’t come up because I want to focus on myself. So why do I feel like complete and utter shit?

  “Grey,” he answers, slapping his hand against Justin. The smack is loud and meant to hurt Justin. He winces just a bit but maintains his sweet grin. “Her boyfriend.”