Grey: The Reconnection (Spectrum Series Book 4)

by Allison White

  He gently lifts me, and I stand in the water. I look around, nervous. “I’m not going to let you drown or anything,” he says, pulling me further. I give him a small smile and quickly wrap my legs around him when I don’t feel the ground anymore, but he’s still walking back. I catch him grinning before he spins, and I’m on his back as he swims out to the middle. I close my eyes and lay my head against his back, softly running my fingers along his shoulders. “Having fun back there?” he calls out over the loudness of the waterfall.

  “Yup.” I kiss just under his ear and laugh when he shudders.

  “Wanna see something insane?” he asks, and I hum.

  “Will it end with my death?” I ask playfully, and he shifts his eyes to me, shrugging.

  “If so, it’d be lovely ’cause I’d be by your side.”

  “Thanks for making us sound like a pair of toxic teens.”

  “I’m twenty-one,” he argues.

  “I know, Grandpa.” I stick my tongue at him.

  He narrows his eyes, and I giggle. “Do you want to see the cool thing or not?”

  I nod and fix myself on his back, biting my lip because of the friction between my legs. He smirks, and I clamp my lips shut and let my head drop against the back of his neck. He laughs at my sudden coyness and continues swimming toward the waterfall. I close my eyes when we pass the pounding water. I gasp when we are in a little cave with a glittering wall that looks like specks of diamonds, but I know it is the light and water making it look that way.

  “You can stand,” he says, and I hesitantly do.

  My feet touch a rock floor, and I look around. “This is amazing.” My voice echoes as I crane my head back and touch the wall. It’s ragged and sharp. I pull away and look at him. I find him already staring at me with so much emotion, so much passion, I nearly have my knees buckle from the intensity. “What?”

  He walks over to me and tilts my head back, the other arm wrapped securely around my waist. “You are just so…perfect.”

  I blush and glance at the wall. “Thanks?” I say more like a question, and he laughs.

  “Do you know how to float?” he asks, tipping me back.

  “No, I don’t think I can,” I tell him honestly, lying flat against the water with his hands supporting my back. I can faintly hear the water rippling around my ears and his instructions. I can’t help but writhe in panic even though I can stand up. There is just something about water that frightens me. The finality of it all. That, if you don’t know how to swim, you’re dead. No amount of fighting against it can help you. You’re just gone.

  “You need to relax,” he says, breaking me from my fearful thoughts.

  “I’m trying,” I say, fixing my shoulders and breathing deep, but nothing is helping.

  He crouches down and lays his hands flat on either side of me, on my stomach and back. “Deep breaths,” he says, then adds, “and if that doesn’t work, just listen to my voice. Close your eyes.” I do as I’m told and listen to him speak, eyes squeezed shut. “Picture yourself on a boat sailing in the Pacific. It’s a warm day, and there are not many waves or anything that could possibly harm you. You are safe, and I am right beside you, looking sexy as fuck in a pair of Speedos.”

  I laugh as I picture what he describes, but he’s rubbing my feet and not showing off his Speedo.

  For a few moments, all I can hear is the waterfall and the seagulls overhead. This is oddly really calming.

  “Liv?” He sounds like he’s been calling my name for some time.

  “Hmmmm?” I hum a smile on my lips.

  He laughs a kind of laugh that I just have to see. “You’ve been floating for, like, five minutes.”

  I panic and stand up. “Really?”

  “Yes.” He nods, and I throw my arms around him. He spins around and pulls back, accepting my thank you kiss. “But you’re not exactly Michael Phelps yet.”

  “So?” I shrug, staring at his lips.

  “Floating gets you frisky, good to know.”

  I giggle, feeling my cheeks redden with heat. He stares at my lips, then into my eyes with that look he was giving me before. “It’s just good to know that I have even a little chance at surviving water.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asks, and I raise a brow. “You have a huge chance with one incredible sexy-ass weapon.”

  “Oh, yeah? What would that be?” I can’t even hold back my smile.

  His lips pull up into a smirk. “Me.”

  “You are so full of yourself.” I snort in laughter.

  His arms tighten around me. “You were full of me last night.”

  “Grey,” I whine, letting my head crane backward.

  He chuckles and kisses just under my chin. I wrap my legs around him when I feel him walking toward the opening of the cave. I squeal and close my eyes when we go through the rushing water. He’s still kissing me along my jaw. I am very aware of how we’re naked and how someone could stumble upon us, but I don’t care. This feels so perfect and magical, anyone who dares to mess with this could screw off.

  “I thought you were going to teach me how to swim,” I whine, gripping his hair and pulling his suctioned lips from my tender skin. I frown at him, and he pouts his lips before kissing me softly. Then again, and again, until I am giggling and trying to avoid him. But he just laughs and marks my neck. “Grey,” I whine some more, and he grunts, pulling back, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “If you want to swim, you’re gonna need a lot more patience,” he says, and I roll my eyes.

  “Sure.”

  He splashes me, and I stand since we’re in the shallow part.

  “Did you just—”

  He splashes me again before I can finish what I was saying.

  “Oh, you are so getting it!”

  “Your pussy? Sorry, got that last night. Not so in the mood again.” He shrugs, and I blush.

  I answer his snarky remark by splashing him, using a lot of force. I laugh as he sneers at me.

  “You got that right. This,” I gesture to myself, “is closed for business until you apologize.”

  “I think I’ll just find another establishment, then.” He looks away from me, crossing his arms.

  I gasp, feigning hurt, hand over my chest. “Well, okay, then.” I turn around and begin climbing out of the stream. But he pulls me back in. I go back in the water, and when I come back up, he’s hunched over, laughing his butt off. “Come here!” I lunge for him, and he catches me, swimming us back. I push off him and stand, splashing him.

  He splashes me back, and we somehow end up in a splash war. Our laughs and declaration of war and shutting down of bodies fill the air and fill my heart. It feels so full, like it’s going to burst sometime soon. For a moment, I feel as though we are perfectly imperfect but meant for one another. Our past mistakes are on the back burner, leaving us naked, wild, and splashing each other like insane children. My lips are swollen, and his back is marked when we find ourselves on the blanket from last night laid out on the grass.

  We are enveloped in a very comfortable silence, with the exception of the birds, crickets, and his heartbeat beneath my ear. I trace his tattoos, finding solace in being able to find their patterns and hear the stories behind them again. He is telling me about the fiery gray skull on his torso when he says, “Hey.”

  “Yeah?” I sound as calm as I feel.

  There is a pause.

  “Where’s my charm?” he asks, lifting the hand that is re-visiting his tattoos.

  I take a sharp breath and glance at his confused expression, then stare at his chest. “I, uh, I took it off…”

  “Well… why?”

  “Because I wanted to distance myself from you and our memories when you didn’t respond to my letter,” I explain, and he lets out a shaky breath.

  “Oh,” he says sadly, and I nod.

  It grows quiet, but not the comfortable one we were basking in moments before he spotted my wrist.

  There goes the blissful ignoran
ce of our problems and our confusing relationship. What are we right now?

  “I am sorry,” I break the silence.

  He cranes his neck to frown at me. “For what?”

  I take a deep breath and hold his confused gaze. “For what I did and how I treated you…” I have to get this out there. I have to try and mend us correctly. I don’t want us to just get back together, if this is what I think it is, and not really talk about what needs to be talked out.

  “Oh.” His head falls back.

  “I just—I don’t know how I could ever make you really see how much I regret doing what I did,” I continue. His silence is killing me. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me? Do you—do you ever think you could maybe…love me again…?” My heart braces for impact.

  He lets out a winded sigh, and I follow the slow rhythm of his chest. “I never stopped loving you, Olivia.”

  So why does it feel different when he just called me Olivia? He never does unless he’s extremely pissed at me.

  “You sure?” I sound insecure, and he makes it known.

  “What the fuck did we do last night, Liv?” His voice booms, and I cower. He rubs my shoulder but doesn’t change his tone. “Did you not feel me in you, getting as close as I can because I fucking needed you to know that I wasn’t imagining it and losing my mind? Did you not see me look at you as if you were a fucking goddess? Someone I could never ever deserve but am glad to have and hold and to make love to or fuck so hard because I need to claim you? Olivia, do you not know that I am desperately in love with you?” His voice breaks, and I can only stare at the emotions pouring into me via his dark eyes. “I’m saying your full name because I want you to understand how serious I am,” he says, again reading my mind.

  “I just…I don’t know what we are and—and I need to know that you forgive me—”

  He rolls over, pinning me to the ground, arms above my head. “What you did was fucked up,” he says harshly. I look away. He forces me to look into his eyes by moving my head. “I trusted you, and you broke that. You will have to earn that back. And it will take a very long time. As to what we are…” He shrugs like he doesn’t really know. “We will figure that out as time goes on.” His hands tighten around my wrists. I bite back a moan when he moves my legs apart and glares at me. “But as for my love, never doubt it. Because after all the bullshit we’ve been through…it will be there for you and you only, always. Understand?”

  I nod quickly, cheeks and chest painted red. “Y-yes.” I love how open he is being with me. How he’s speaking directly from the heart, not holding back like he usually does. He’s being upfront, and I want to show him my love. “And my love will always be there for you too…” I bring my foot up and brush the inside of his thigh. His eyes widen, and he bites his lip. “Always…”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Grey

  We leave the hidden stream after another session of mind-blowing sex. Speaking on the blowing part, that alone was fucking fantastic. I never truly knew how much I missed her soft, responsive body and lips, full and perfectly made for me. I filled her in ways no other man ever would. And although we have not yet titled whatever the hell we are, it still felt amazing knowing how open she was to me. To touch her, caress her, kiss her, claim her.

  I have half a mind to just have us continue like this without any title, but I know she wants one. She still has to win back my trust first. To be honest, that’s just what my pride is telling me. What I really want to do is have her back in my life again. I have been so fucking dead on the inside ever since that day in December. And now that I have her slowly falling in my palm like putty, I want so fucking desperately to just sweep her off her feet and live blissfully in ignorance to the many, many reasons why we shouldn’t be together.

  You have to protect your heart, Grey, my rather reasonable but pretty fucking prideful subconscious reminds me. She’s hurt you before and you didn’t see it coming. The same thing can happen.

  I grip the leather wheel and tap my fingers anxiously. “You won’t hurt me again, right?” I need to hear her say it. I need the reassurance, or I will go internally crazy and it will spill over and—fuck, I already feel my skin itching. Without my meds, I feel like I am slowly driving myself insane. I have to admit, when I was on them, I felt calmer and more rational. But I am who I truly am without them. And I am determined to show everyone that I can be sane without any fucking pill.

  I feel her eyes on me, so I glance over at her. She’s staring at me with an unreadable expression, and that’s not good because I can usually read her mind with one look. Her huge brilliant blue eyes are squinted, and her lips are bunched to one side.

  “What?” I say, feeling a little analyzed. I don’t like the feeling. I didn’t feel it the first time around, and now I feel paranoid that’s what’s happening now. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?” she asks.

  “That,” I snap, and she flinches. I let out a breath, grip my hair, and stare at the deserted roads. “I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” she asks. I see her shrug in my peripheral vision.

  “Like you’re studying me,” I say, and my knuckles turn white. I peek a glance at her and see she’s frowning at her hands, like she’s about to burst into tears. “Just…promise me that you won’t hurt me again.”

  “You know I won’t,” she says, her voice hoarse with tears.

  Fuck—I shouldn’t have let my crazy-ass mind speak. Now she’s all hurt and shit.

  “I’m—” I begin, briefly rubbing my face, fighting a battle in my head.

  “I already lost you,” she croaks, cutting me off. “I have apologized a million times. I burned the book. I pled for you—I did everything I could. But I can’t go back in the past and erase what I did.”

  “I know you can’t, Olivia,” I gripe through clenched teeth. She’s getting all emotional again. I wish she knew how much I just want to burn the past and resume what we had. How much I want to get rid of my horrendous pride and slap my heart on my sleeve, all for her.

  “Stop calling me that!” she screams, and I pull over.

  “What do you want me to call you, then?” I face her, letting my random burst of anger get the best of me.

  She just stares up at me with eyes like the sky. I watch as a raindrop falls down her cheek. “I don’t know,” she says, closing her eyes briefly, then settling her deep baby blues on me. I surrender to them in an instant. “I just want you to look at me the same. I want us to be the same. And most of all, I want you to trust me without having to ask if I will hurt you.”

  “After what you did, you want me to treat you the same, like nothing happened?” I look at her as if she’s the crazy one. And I very well can, because what she wants is greedy and nearly impossible. “When you did what you did, my heart broke in two, and you took one half of it. I am only now getting it back. And I’m still healing. So I’m sorry if I am a little cruel or rough with you, I just want to make sure I’m not making a mistake.”

  She looks down, and it is quiet for a moment. “I know, I’m just selfish enough to want us to resume what we had,” she admits sullenly. She looks up and reaches out to me. I don’t move when she holds my face, and she looks relieved. “But I will do everything in my power to get us back where we once were.”

  I look into her eyes and see past the normality of them. I swim in her deep oceans, and I search for the truth. It takes me a while, maybe seconds, minutes, maybe even hours or years, but I finally find what I am searching for—her sincerity. Her desperation for us to be us again. And I latch onto that too, because I need every last bit of help to hold onto the idea of us being okay. Not in pain or miserable or losing our fucking minds. I just need her…

  I nod, feeling tears in my eyes as well.

  “Okay.”

  She looks a little taken aback, and I smile. “Okay?” she questions for assurance.

  I lean forward and take her lips in mine. “
Okay,” I whisper when we pull back for a brief second.

  ***

  “Do you have the food I cooked for the flight?” Abuela asks, dark eyes wide as she gestures wildly with her hands, as she always does when it comes to how well fed I am. I swear, sometimes I worry she wants to fatten me up to the point where she must intervene and take care of me for the rest of my life.

  “Yes, Abuela,” I assure her with a little sigh. I can’t be harsh with her. She just lost Grandpa and is going through a lot. She tries her best to show she’s strong and dealing with it fine, but I know she isn’t. I can see past everything she puts up. I wrap my arms around her, and she stiffens; my cousins raise eyebrows at me. I barely show affection toward any family, but she deserves this. And to be honest…I kind of need it too. “I’ll call you when we land.” I kiss her forehead, and she makes a strange sound between a cough, a laugh, and a coo. I just roll my eyes, smile, and hug a little harder.

  “Oh, my bebé has grown up so much,” she whines and pulls back. The heavy emotion of love in her eyes as she holds and squishes my cheeks together makes my heart hurt. “You take care of yourself, you hear me?”

  “Yes, Abuela.”

  “Oh!” she exclaims suddenly. “Before I forget, I have something for you, left by your abuelo.” She scurries off, and I walk back inside our room.

  Liv is finishing up packing her clothes in her luggage. I’m surprised she didn’t do this after the funeral. But then again, she didn’t have time since we were out and kind of busy. I smirk at the images flashing through my pervy mind.

  “Hey.” She touches my arm, and I look into her eyes expectantly. “You okay?” Her lips dance with a little amusement.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, cupping her face and rubbing my thumbs over her soft skin. I watch with satisfaction as she sucks in a deep breath. I love how much of an effect I have on her with just one touch. “Just thinking about last night and how amazing you felt as I was fucking you…” I run my thumbs over her lips, and her tongue peeks out to bite or suck like the naughty little princess she is.