He stares at me for a little while longer, but then he gives me that charming smile of his and nods, gripping his hand in mine. “You’re right, we should go.” He slings his arm around me, and again those butterflies flap away, but my skin, heart, and conscience is still intact. I’m just nervous, but everything I felt with Grey, I will feel with Noah. I know it will; it has to. Right?
Mason wasn’t wrong; the restaurant is a few minutes’ walk from where we were. The entire way Charlotte sends cheeky glances over her shoulders, to which I would discreetly tell her to “leave me alone or I’ll get the hammer.” Mason must have caught her crazy drift, or his best friend radar went off, because he does the exact same thing. And soon enough, Mateo joins in too, proving his boyfriend is rubbing off him.
Remind me to never be near a boy around these people.
When we finally arrive at the restaurant, the host seems a bit confused as to why a group of teenagers are entering a posh establishment. But when Mason steps up and tells her his name and how he called earlier, it hits him that his family is wealthy, and I have a sick feeling in my stomach. It’s horrible how people first look at you in distaste, but when they find out your name has power behind it, they suddenly know how to smile and offer their greatest gratitude.
We follow the hostess to the back. The entire time I wonder if I’ll be able to come here or go to another restaurant with just Noah. Will I be able to breathe regularly despite the little hitches here and there as his fingers graze my skin? Will I have a nice time without being distracted? Most importantly, will he fill the gaping hole left in my heart…?
“Enjoy your stay,” the blonde hostess says cheerfully as she sets our menus on the shiny black table before us.
We sit down and begin looking over our menus. The entire while, Noah, who’s sitting next to me, decides to transform into a little kid and plays footsie with me. His little laughs and those baby dimples are enough to draw me into that side of myself because I bump into him and laugh right back, ignoring the curious stares from our companions, who I honestly forget are with us.
This isn’t too bad, minus the trio staring at me like I’m a twelve year old on her first date, and I’m enjoying myself so far.
Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I—
“Liv, what are you doing here?” Rose’s voice stops the hopeful maybes in my head.
I look up from watching Noah’s hand creeping to mine and fall into a familiar black hole with no easy way out. No way that I will not crave the riveting feeling that pumps through my veins and keeps me…alive.
“Just hanging out with some friends,” I nervously reply, smoothing out my dress with both of my hands.
“Hi, everyone—I’m Rose, and this is—” she says with a big smile.
“Grey,” Grey says, eyes locked on mine, hand slung around Rose’s hips. “The name is—”
“Grey,” I say breathlessly.
The universe just loves me so much, hmmm?
Chapter Thirty-One
I watch with a two-ton heart as they sit at the small table next to us. No matter how much I try, I can’t look away. It’s like I’m chained to the chair, forced to watch them prepare to have a date, forced to be tortured for my terrible sins. I can pray for forgiveness and burn as many books as I want, but none of it would change what I did and would never make him forgive me or at least lessen his hate toward me. And just knowing that he won’t even look at me, even right now without a spark of a glare, worsens the black hole of regret in the pit of my stomach.
Suddenly, I don’t think I’ll make it through tonight with Noah at my side, because my past and number one hater is on the other side.
“What are you doing?” Charlotte pipes up as she watches the couple sit.
“What do you…?” Rose looks confused and glances at me, but I avoid her eyes.
“Join us. We have plenty of seats. The hostess is a bit of a, well, a blonde.” Charlotte shrugs with a smile.
My stomach drops.
“What?” I croak.
At the same time, Rose says, “That’d be wonderful.”
When Rose looks at me, I give her a strained but small smile and shift my eyes to Charlotte. What is she thinking, inviting them to eat with us? Has too much partying in California messed up her brain? Why does she want to see me suffer?
I reach over and nudge her in the chin, and she raises her eyebrows and peeks her phone over the edge of the table. I don’t get it until my shoulder bag buzzes. I take it out and swipe my finger across the screen.
Charlotte: Go along with it.
I shake my head while typing.
Olivia: Are you insane?
Charlotte: No, I’m quite sane.
I look up, and she smiles.
Olivia: Then why are you making my ex and his girlfriend sit with us?
I furiously tap my fingers away.
Charlotte: Because doing so with Nick by your side will show the douchebag that you’re moving on too.
I freeze. She does have a good point.
Charlotte: Plus, I want to see how ‘nice’ your new friend is.
I put my phone away and take a sip of water. I get what Charlotte is trying to do: broadcast the idea of moving on. But it isn’t the whole truth. I’m not on a date with Noah. I’m not open to the idea of someone else holding me at night. I am still irrevocably hung up on the boy with black eyes and a habit of playing with his bottom lip when nervous or contemplating…like he’s doing right now.
I look in my peripheral vision of my right eye and hold my breath. He’s sitting right next to me, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. The table isn’t as big as Charlotte claimed, and right now, I’m mentally choking her with my bare hands for putting me in yet another uncomfortable position. There’s my big sister for you all, folks…
I let out a sigh when I feel a hand gripping my bare thigh. My skin melts at the touch, and I somehow just know it’s Grey touching me. I snap my gaze to his hand that is on me for a slight second. And then before I can question him, he slides his tongue between his pink supple lips and nods to his right.
“Order,” he basically commands.
Oh. He just wanted to get my attention. I must have been zoning out a minute there.
I look past him and smile up at the young boy with a notepad—the waiter. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” I apologize and order my food. I lean back in my seat and try to get my flaming heart under control, trying not make a sound as he shrugs off his jacket, revealing his thick biceps and tattoos. One of my favorites, thick gray clouds with a phoenix bird soaring out, wings spread wide open, catches my eye, and I smile just the slightest.
My stomach clenches and my skin tingles when I feel my left shoulder be gripped lightly.
“You okay?” Noah asks, and I face him, ignoring the man behind me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assure him, but I don’t know if I am.
I mean, I’m not hysterically crying or cringing on the ground, right? I can’t tell because I am frozen and have been staring at one spot on the table for the longest while. I think I’m just a little overwhelmed with him sitting so close to me, with my body craving to move just the slightest to the right to be even closer. But I pull against the strings attaching to the dark entity beside me on the right and lean toward the smile of a better future to my left.
I just have to continue to do this for the rest of the night. It’s doable, right?
“Oh, silly me—I forgot to introduce everyone.” Charlotte does her fake laugh, and I nearly choke on my water.
“I’m sure everyone knows each other, Char,” I say in a sweet voice and do my fake laugh too, but it sounds like an unsure hyena with a chicken bone stuck in its throat. I cough to clear my throat and discreetly step on Noah’s foot as he chuckles. “Mason is her brother, after all.”
Her eyes widen, and she looks around before breathing, “Well, fuck. Didn’t see that coming. But I’m pretty sure she hasn’t met golden boy.” S
he nods to Noah, who’s smirking and raising a brow.
“Who hasn’t?” Grey murmurs with attitude.
“What’s been put in the water that’s making everyone so weird?” Rose laughs, and I smile apologetically at her, but Char looks anything but apologetic. “I’m guessing they mean you? I’m Rose.” She extends her hand across to Noah. “So nice to meet you.” Does she ever get sick of being so kind?
“Noah.” He flashes her his signature smile and points to me and says proudly, “Friend of Liv.”
“Sure that’s all?” Grey mutters before taking an angry sip of his water.
What is going on with him?
“And I’m Charlotte, Liv’s sister,” Charlotte says casually.
“I see the resemblance,” Rose jokes, then laughs when I do. I shake my head.
“She’s a close friend of mine,” I explain.
“Very close,” Charlotte reiterates.
“How close we are talking?” Noah winks.
“Don’t be gross.” I laugh and pinch his leg.
“Calm down, children. The food is coming,” Grey grits out.
I look at him and gulp under his hard stare. “We were just—”
“Oh, I know,” he cuts me off and looks away as food is placed in front of everyone.
My heart free-falls.
Why is he acting like this? He’s the one who invaded my night out with my friends. I’m more than okay with Rose being here; she’s actually tolerable. But him? He’s just rude and obnoxious and—and he’s just unwanted.
Sure he is, my subconscious says.
I groan and decide to push away the angry thoughts in my head and pick up my fork. I’m about to stab into the food when I notice something I didn’t before. There’s onions in it. Like, all over it. But it didn’t mention anything about onions on the menu…
“Something wrong?” Noah whispers in my ear.
“No, I’m fine,” I tell him.
“Sure you are,” I hear Grey mumble beside me.
I look at him. “I said I’m fine, not that it’s any of your business.”
He scoffs with an annoying smirk. “It is when you’re bitching in my ear.”
I gasp and hear the silence fall on the table. “I was not…I was talking to Noah. You didn’t have to butt in, okay?” I take a deep breath.
“Whoops, I’m out of line in Liv’s eyes,” he says with a fake gasp. “You aren’t going to write that down in a book and analyze every single word, are you?”
“Hey, just leave her alone. She wasn’t bothering you,” Noah pipes up.
Grey laughs. “Am I supposed to be scared of you?”
“You will be if you don’t stop fucking with her.” I’m shocked. I’ve never heard him be so hostile before. And to Grey…? Well, this just isn’t going to end well.
“Will you two just please stop?” I plead, staring at the food before me.
“I haven’t started anything this pussy would ever stop,” Grey says, and I feel the silence double.
“I don’t think ‘Skull Crusher’ is appropriate enough,” Noah says sarcastically. “I think ‘Grey: the dick’ is more fitting, don’t you?”
Grey tenses, but before he can launch across me and ruin this night even more, I stand.
“I’m going to bathroom. I’ll be right back,” I announce and wriggle out of my seat, side-stepping Grey. I flash him a look, begging he find it in his heart to remember how much we did care for each other before and that he stay mute until I get back. He merely rolls his eyes in annoyance and stabs his food so hard I imagine the table shaking.
I rush into the bathroom and grip the sink. Tears build in my eyes, and I blink them away. I will not cry because of that ass who’s taken over the sweet, frustrating boy I was once so desperately in love with. I will not cry because he is solely making my life a living hell with every word and every touch at a time. I will not cry because if I start now, I will drown in my tears, and God knows how much I am finding solace in the serenity and inability to escape the peace.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” I whisper to myself, more like demand, and grip the sink harder and harder until I’m sure I hear a crack.
I let go, unable to keep the tears at bay. I told myself I wouldn’t do this, that I wouldn’t take them, but I don’t know what else to do. So I rip open my purse and search for the medication bottle—the anti-depressants my therapist prescribed and my mother ordered me to take. I always said that the sessions were enough and that I was getting better. I was lying, but I did feel like I could get better without having to take them.
But the way I’m feeling now, like the vault of emotions is being cracked open…I know I can’t do this by myself.
When I find it, I open the cap and swallow down two pills at a time, knowing I should take one per the instructions on the back of the bottle.
“Don’t cry.” I open my eyes and find black eyeliner smudges underneath my eyes. I quickly wash under my eyes and dab it dry with a piece of toilet paper. I’m throwing away the evidence and placing the bottle back in my purse when the door slams open.
“I am so sorry, but I didn’t know he’d be that much of a dick.” Charlotte rushes in and throws her arms around me. “Voy a ir a buscar mi martillo y golpear a su ego hasta que no queda nada más que polvo.” (I’ll go get my hammer and beat his ego in until there is nothing left but dust.)
I laugh and pry her off me. “There’s no need for that, Char.”
She narrows her eyes and looks me up and down. “Are you okay?”
“I’m—I’m fine. I’ll be at the table.” I take a deep breath and rush out of the bathroom before she can question me any further. I feel like the entire restaurant is quiet and watching me as I make my way back to the table.
Breathe, Liv. Just—just brea…
I stop short at the table, finding Rose in my seat, Grey’s arm around her and playing with her fingers, thumb rubbing her skin…like he used to do with me.
Rose stops laughing and finds my eyes desperately watching her. “Oh, sorry. I switched our plates, since I figured you were maybe allergic. Do you want to order something else or…?” She genuinely looks confused but concerned as I say nothing.
“Thank you, that was very nice of you.” I begin to sit down with Noah on the other side of the table.
But then Grey looks up, and he smiles just a little bit, but it is equivalent to boats crashing onto shore, stars bursting in the sky, and buildings collapsing onto my chest.
He whispers something in her ear, and she giggles and touches his chest.
“I can’t do this.” I feel my face grow hot and cold, a tear betraying me. But I don’t even care anymore. Let me cry, let me drown—I deserve it and much more.
“Oh no, you’re crying—what’s wrong?” Grey bats his eyelashes, and that sickening smile grows even more.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being an ass?” I exclaim, drawing all kinds of attention. I swallow my pride and shrug. “Enjoy your night, everyone. I’m leaving.” I turn on my heel and begin storming out of the restaurant when I feel a hand slink into my own. My skin tingles. I smile, knowing exactly who it is without even looking at my side. “Take me home, Noah?” I whisper and lean on his arm.
“Of course,” he says, and without looking, I know he’s smiling that charming smile of his.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The next morning, I wake up to the sounds of loud snoring. I almost drift back into peaceful sleep when I realize that I don’t snore. Then I start freaking out. I look to my left and freak out some more, finding Noah shirtless and snoring like there is no tomorrow. I am shocked and about to wake him up when it dawns on me that after we left the restaurant last night, we took a little stroll through the park before he had to take me home, because I began to feel exhausted, mentally and physically.
I smile as I remember how worried he looked when I started to slightly slur my words. I knew the side effects would be quick then would leave me in a da
zed enough state that whatever problems were present before would slowly fade away, but he didn’t, and he acted quickly, taking me home without any hesitation. The image of him tucking me into bed and the look of adoration in his emerald eyes ties a knot around my heart and gives it a nice tug.
I lay back down and sigh. My skin is still tingling, but that could be because his foot is overlapping mine. I face him and suck in a deep breath, letting it sink in that he’s slept in the same bed as me twice, and it sort of feels normal. Not entirely like I was made to be next to him and just him, but enough that I don’t feel like overdosing on those anti-depressants.
I don’t know if it’s the remainder of the drugs fizzling underneath my skin or because I feel so hopeful, so…complete in this moment of pureness, but I reach out and twirl my finger through a lazy curl of his, resting over his scrunched eyebrows. He looks so conflicted even in sleep, but when I get a tad closer and force my eyes not to draw another’s face…his lips part and the crease above his thick eyebrows disappears.
He really is beautiful; it’s actually killing me. I feel as though he is too perfect for my dark aura to linger even an inch away from him.
Like I shouldn’t be touching him, for fear of marking him with my darkness.
A knot in my stomach makes its presence known, with me cementing his face in my head and associating euphoria with it. It tells me that this isn’t right, that something feels off, but I brush it all away and throw out the negativity. I paint his face on a canvas, and I admire it, and I try my best to get rid of the gut-feeling that it isn’t…right.
I must have tugged on his hair out of anger or something because his eyes flutter open, and he looks surprised for a second…then his natural arrogance seeps back into place from slumber, and he smiles lazily.
“Morning, buttercup. Having fun?” His voice is deep, almost too deep.
Grey: The Retribution (Spectrum Series Book 3) Page 21
