Beyond What is Given

by Rebecca Yarros

  Grayson grabbed ahold of Owen and shoved him against the wall. What the hell? “You come here? You don’t get to see her. Ever.” A framed painting fell off its nail and crashed to the ground, shattering the glass. His forearm pressed against Owen’s throat, and then he leaned in.

  For the first time, Grayson’s strength scared the shit out of me.

  “I’m sorry, Gray,” Owen garbled. “I’ve tried to tell you for years. I’m so sorry. I check in on her when I’m in town.”

  “You’re sorry?” Grayson’s voice dropped dangerously low. I’d never seen him so angry, so ruled by emotion. What the hell could this guy have done to bring down Grayson’s prized control? “You’re fucking sorry? Let me know when sorry wakes her up and gives her back the five years you’ve taken from her! From all of us!”

  It clicked. Owen. He was the one driving that night. He was responsible for what had happened to Grace. Grayson leaned further, and Owen’s color changed from a mottled red to a sickening purple.

  “Grayson!” I shouted as I ran to him.

  His gaze pivoted, full of so much loathing and hatred that I barely recognized him. I gasped, my hands inches from his skin.

  The second he recognized me, his eyes widened and his face softened. His grip on Owen didn’t. I stepped forward slowly and laid my hand on his arm. “You have to let him go. You’re going to kill him.”

  His breath released in a rush. Without taking his eyes off mine, he released his hold on Owen, who slid to the floor among the glass shards.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Trespassing. Again. I flinched. “Mia brought me. She told me to wait here while she found Parker.”

  “They’re with Miranda.” His voice was flat, and I retreated, putting the physical distance between us that the mental seemed to call for.

  “Owen?” I called out softly, leaving my eyes locked on Grayson. “You should probably go. Now.”

  He scurried to his feet, coughing, then passed me as he moved to the doorway. “Gray, I’m sorry. I know I was wrong, but I thought you were dead, and I lied. You and Grace were my best friends—”

  “Were,” Grayson snapped. “Never forget that.”

  Owen swallowed and looked at me. “I hope Parker’s right, that he’s different around you. Because that”—he pointed to Grayson—“unforgiving prick…is not the Gray I grew up with.”

  “Maybe you killed him that night, too.” Grayson moved, blocking Owen from my view with his massive back. “Never speak to her again. Ever.”

  “Which one?” Owen’s tone was challenging for a guy who’d nearly been choked to death.

  Don’t make him choose. I’m not ready for the answer.

  Grayson stepped forward. “You’ve already ruined Grace’s life, and if you come near Sam again, I’ll finish what I started five years ago.”

  Both of us. How diplomatic.

  “You going to try to hit me with your car again?”

  “I won’t miss, and even Parker won’t be able to save you this time. Do you understand?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  Owen’s footsteps faded, and I stood entranced by Grayson’s back as it rose rhythmically with his breaths. He finally turned around, pinning me with his eyes.

  Everything we were and could be simmered there, just out of reach—too far away to keep me warm, but dangerous enough to incinerate what was left of my heart.

  “Grayson, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. Mia just kind of dumped me here.”

  His eyes flickered from mine to Grace and back again. “You…you can’t be here. It’s too much.” He shook his head like he’d answered a question that hadn’t been asked, and walked away, leaving me alone with Grace.

  I blinked furiously as my eyes prickled with tears. Suck it up. You barged in where you don’t belong. This was what I wanted, right? To know who Grayson was behind the defenses he so painstakingly maintained. I just hadn’t expected the revelation to hurt so fucking much.

  “See what I mean?” I asked Grace as I picked up the largest pieces of broken glass. “The man has walls you’d need a miracle to break through.”

  Because I wasn’t her. I never would be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sam

  Grayson: I’ll be there in 15 to pick you up for dinner.

  The text message flashed across my phone as I applied the last of my makeup. “Shitty apology,” I mumbled.

  “He’s…a little difficult to read,” Paisley answered, sprawled out on my bed, flipping through a magazine.

  “If there was a manual on Grayson, it would be written in a dead dialect of Aramaic and then published in Braille. He’s impossible.”

  She smiled up at me. “You look stunning.”

  I rubbed my lips together to evenly distribute the gloss. I’d dressed carefully, stopping at the outlet mall and picking up a new dress with thicker straps, a fitted bodice, and a flirty yet classy skirt. “Thank you. I’m still half tempted to tell him to shove this dinner up his ass.”

  Paisley sat up, the scar from open-heart surgery peeking out the top of her shirt. It was a jarring reminder of how close Jagger had come to losing her. He loved her so completely that I could feel it when they were in the same room. Hell, in the same state.

  “I’d use this time to snoop. If he won’t let you in, then ask his family the questions you want answers to.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Miss Southern Politeness 2015, really? You never snooped into Jagger. You wouldn’t.”

  She chewed her bottom lip for a second. “You’re right. But Jagger and I kept too many secrets. We should have come clean early, and it would have been so much easier. Do you love him?”

  What? “Love him? I wouldn’t go that far. I care about him. Deeply. I love things about him, but I wouldn’t rush into using that word.” No. That word got me screwed, in more than the literal sense, in the past.

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?” I strapped my wedges onto my feet.

  “You remind me of someone.”

  “Who? Morgan?” Our outspoken natures had been compared more than once.

  “Me, right around the time I started dating Jagger.”

  Grayson called my name before I had time to process that.

  “Have fun!” Paisley called out as I headed down the steps.

  Grayson waited for me at the bottom of the stairs, wearing pressed khakis and a light blue dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and rolled up just past his elbows.

  I stopped on the second to last step, making me equal with his height, and ran my tongue across my lower lip. He looked incredible.

  “Wow,” he said as his eyes scanned over me and then came to rest on my mouth. He leaned forward, and I stepped back up a step.

  “Oh no,” I said. “You’re not going to kiss me and think that gets you out of what happened today.” I shook my head for emphasis.

  A corner of his mouth rose. “I didn’t think it would.”

  “Ugh. Don’t do that half-smile thing. It makes me think you’re back to being my Grayson and does things to me.”

  He stepped up the next step. “I’m always your Grayson. Now tell me more about these things.”

  I put my hands on his chest to stop his assault and nearly groaned at the feel of his muscles playing beneath my fingers. “No. You give me whiplash, I swear. Now take me to dinner. I’m not starting this with you again to get called out of it halfway through.” Hell no. I liked sex, loved sex, and the need I felt for Grayson’s body had me ready to rip his clothes off on the stairs. But I selfishly wanted all of him with me, every thought on me, every touch only for me. I didn’t want to share him for a single second, and I didn’t know if that was possible after seeing things go down today, or if I could separate sex from my feelings for him. They ran too deep already.

  His arms slid around my sides, pulling me off the step and into his arms. “The next time I get my hands on you, Sam, I’m not stopping. So if you’re not su
re about this, about us…well, this is your warning.”

  I wound my arms around his neck as he carried me down the steps. Mad or not, I wanted him too much to not enjoy the tiny moment. “It’s hard to be sure about anything when you keep me locked out.”

  I cringed as the wall went up behind his eyes. “We’re going to be late.”

  The drive to his parents’ house was only about ten minutes, but I enjoyed every one of them. He pointed out places that held significance to him and held my hand.

  “Are we going to talk about today?” I asked, fidgeting with the hemline of my dress as we pulled into his parents’ driveway.

  He parked and turned to me. “Yes. I promise. Let’s get through dinner, and we’ll talk after.”

  I had to ask. “Did you really hit Owen with your car? Is that the damage on the front end?”

  His jaw locked. “I hit the fence post right next to him.”

  “You’re a different person here,” I whispered as he held my face. “I don’t like it.”

  He answered with a soft kiss. “I promise. After.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He held my hand as we walked up the steps to the door but paused before we went inside. “Oh, Sam?”

  “Oh, Grayson?” I smiled up at him, soaking in this one moment that he was still my Grayson.

  “Can you remember not to mention anything about flight school?” His forehead puckered.

  “Uh. Sure? Why would—”

  He kissed me again, this time swiftly sliding his tongue along mine. I quickly forgot my name, let alone what I’d been asking.

  “Ahem.” Mia cleared her throat. “Maybe you should come in before Mom comes out?”

  Grayson released my mouth with one more quick kiss. “After.”

  I nodded, and then growled as my head cleared. “Stop doing that.”

  “Stop doing what?” he asked with mock innocence.

  “Kissing me to stop me from asking questions.”

  “You look very kissable while asking questions,” he answered as we stepped into the house.

  “Excuses.” I laughed.

  “Where is everyone?” Grayson asked Mia, who was grinning at us.

  “Oh, Mom set up the table outside. There were too many people here for the dining room.” At the look on Grayson’s face, Mia clarified, “Only family, I swear.”

  “Good,” Grayson replied as we walked toward the back of the house.

  I stopped at the doorframe that led to the kitchen. “You have one!”

  “What?” Grayson asked.

  My fingers skimmed over the inked lines with dates and names. “Your heights. They’re all marked as you grew up.”

  “Yeah?” Mia asked.

  My cheeks warmed. “It’s just really cool to see you guys grow up in this house. It’s all right here. A family story.” I stood, my eyes prickling, and brushed imaginary lint off my dress. “You probably think I’m stupid.”

  Grayson tilted my chin. “Mia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Leave.” He didn’t wait for her response, instead pressed me against that doorframe and kissed me breathless, tilting his mouth over mine to get the deepest, sweetest angle.

  I was dizzy and ready to strip him by the time he finished. “What was that for?” I asked, unable to tear my eyes off his mouth.

  “Now it has the next chapter of my story. I’ll never look at it again without thinking of the way you taste.”

  Excuse me while my panties evaporate. I swallowed and tried to get my reaction under control.

  “Grayson Masters!” his Mom called from the back of the house.

  “Coming, ma’am,” he responded, but his eyes sparkled in a way I hadn’t seen since before the disaster of a party. Maybe kissing him was my best weapon, the key to keeping my Grayson in the world that demanded Gray.

  “Your accent isn’t as strong as theirs.”

  “My dad’s a northerner. I always tried to emulate him, so I guess mine was never as heavy.”

  We walked onto the deck, and my hand tightened reflexively around Grayson’s. The family stood around a perfectly set beach-themed table, and Grayson led me to a set of empty chairs so I’d be sandwiched between him and Mia. He held out my chair and then pushed it in as everyone sat. His dad did the same for his mom.

  Chivalry wasn’t dead in North Carolina.

  “Sam, you remember my dad, Constance and her fiancé, Bryan”—he skipped two empty chairs—“Mom, and Parker, of course.”

  “Hi.” I smiled, waving to everyone, especially Parker. She wasn’t getting the best of me tonight. I needed all my strength to deal with her brother later.

  “Who are we missing?” Grayson asked.

  “Sorry we’re late!” A couple in their mid-forties came up the porch steps behind us. The woman reminded me of a blond Gillian Anderson and the man looked like someone had permanently pinched a nerve…in his ass.

  “Ian, Tess. We’re glad you made it,” Grayson’s dad welcomed them and motioned to the empty chairs. “How is Miranda?”

  “A healthy girl! Amberly Grace.” Ian grinned. “We couldn’t be more thrilled.”

  “You two should be celebrating.” Connie handed down a bottle of wine.

  “Well, we wouldn’t miss a chance to see Gray, would we?” Tess smiled at Grayson as she accepted the bottle.

  He nodded to them. “It’s good to see you.”

  Maybe they were an aunt and uncle? Grayson took hold of my hand under the table. “Sam, these are the Bowdens. They’re very close friends of my parents and own the house next door.”

  “As Grace’s parents,” Parker added with a smile, “they’re family. I figured they’d want to meet you, Sam, so I asked Mom if we could invite them.”

  “Of course you’re always invited,” his mom agreed.

  My stomach fell twenty feet to the patio below us. Of course Parker invited them. How better to slam it home that I wasn’t wanted in his life? Like today’s reminder hadn’t been enough? Grace was ingrained in every single detail of his life here.

  In an instant, my excitement over getting to know Grayson’s family, and hopefully find out more about him, was squashed under the awkwardness of his girlfriend…wait, was she still his girlfriend?

  As long as he wants you, that’s all that matters. I straightened my spine, pushed my shoulders back, and gave Grayson some side-eye. I was the daughter of a Colonel in the United States Army. I’d held my own at parties with people a lot more powerful and with harsher ulterior motives than Parker could ever dream. I could handle Parker. Thank you, Mom.

  He brushed his lips over my ear in a delicate kiss and whispered, “I didn’t know, and I’m so sorry.”

  I gave the tiniest nod possible and tried to remember what he’d said. I’m always your Grayson. But how would he hold up when everyone expected Grace’s Gray?

  Dinner was passed family style with grilled chicken legs, roasted potatoes, green beans, and some kind of stuffing that looked delicious. The others made small talk while I dug into the stuffing, lifting the fork to my lips.

  “No!” Grayson shouted, knocking the fork out of my hand. It clattered to the table, nearly taking out my wineglass.

  Well, there went the small talk.

  “Gray?” his mom asked while I stared wide-eyed at him.

  “That has pecans in it,” he explained to me, panic in his eyes, then matter-of-factly switched our plates, since his had yet to be touched by the stuffing.

  “Thank you,” I said softly as his hand brushed across my cheek.

  He took a deep breath like he was steadying himself. “Sam’s allergic to nuts.”

  “Oh my, Sam, I’m incredibly sorry,” his mom apologized.

  “Don’t be, you didn’t know.” Holy shit. That could have been bad. “I didn’t even bring an epi pen,” I said to Grayson. “It’s at the beach house. What was I thinking?”

  He squeezed my hand under the table. “I carry one, don’t worry.”

&n
bsp; “What? Since when?”

  “Since I almost fed you that banana-walnut muffin. I ordered it online,” he answered with a shrug.

  “Seriously?” Parker asked.

  “Seriously,” he shot back, his voice harsh.

  We all chewed in relative silence. He carried an epi pen? For me? Well, crap if I didn’t love that about him now, too.

  “So, Sam, how did you and Gray meet?” Grayson’s dad asked.

  I swallowed my food. It had begun. “We’re roommates.”

  “You’re living with this young woman?” Ian set his knife down abruptly. Better than picking it up, right?

  “Funny story there,” Grayson cut in. “I thought she was a guy when I said yes to another roommate, and well…” The way he looked at me caught my breath. “As you can see, she’s an incredibly beautiful woman.”

  “So you’re living together. In a relationship and living together,” Tess said, then took a shaky swallow of her wine. “That’s nice.”

  “So, Sam, what are you studying in school?” Connie asked, trying to keep the peace.

  “Mathematics.” I gave her a thankful smile.

  “You want to teach?” his mom added, and my head swiveled to the opposite end of the table.

  “No, ma’am. I tutor now, but it’s not my strong suit. I’m more interested in applied mathematics.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, and Mrs. Bowden cleared her throat.

  “Grace was going to be a teacher,” Ian Bowden added. “She thought it would be a perfect fit once Grayson came home to take over the shop.”

  Take over the shop? He’d never even mentioned it.

  Joey sat up a little taller and all but stabbed her chicken. This was definitely going down as the most awkward meal I’d ever had. What was I supposed to say to that? “I’m sure she would have been a wonderful teacher.”

  He looked somewhat appeased.

  “Math, huh?” Parker raised her eyebrows and leaned forward to make sure I saw. “I bet that’s useful while you’re helping Grayson study, right?”

  Crap. I should have asked him what he did tell his family.

  Grayson tensed beside me. “Parker?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Gray. I didn’t tell you. I found your study guide today at the hospital.” She threw his 5&9 cards into the middle of the table.