“I went out,” I simply say, bypassing him. I hold my hands to my chest, expecting him to grab them like he usually does whenever he can’t get a straight answer out of me. He always resorts to wrapping his claws on me; it’s quite annoying.
I walk into his bedroom and take out a pair of pajamas and a sanitary pad. I bypass him again as he tries to follow me in the bedroom, but he’s too late. I change and stare into the new mirror I bought, despite Grey’s annoyed protest, for a long while as I try to understand why I love that man out there.
Because you’re a fool, my subconscious says.
I close my eyes before washing my face. I dry off and exit the bathroom. He’s waiting for me when I get out, leaning against the wall with hooded eyes and a frown.
“Where were you?” he questions again.
I merely scoff and turn to enter the bedroom. He grabs my forearm and turns me to him. “I asked you a question,” he gripes. Who does he think he is? He acted like an utter asshole hours ago, and now he’s questioning me like he cares?
“And I gave you an answer,” I scoff again and push against his chest. I pivot on my feet and walk into the bedroom.
“That isn’t enough, Liv, and you know it.” He chases after me, and I make what sounds like a battle cry out of frustration and grip my hair. He furrows his brows like he doesn’t know what he did, what he said.
“What I know is that you’re a dick. Earlier, I was trying to help you, and you flipped out on me for no fucking reason whatsoever. You were the one who came in drunk. You were the one who lost his cool. You’re the one who loves to clam up like a damn vault of secrets. Well, guess what, Grey? I have common sense. And common sense told me to leave before I could punch you myself!” I rant and pant heavily for breath. I face the windows as I try to collect the very little cool I have.
“I got drunk because I wanted to, Liv,” he says, sneering at me. “I don’t need to have your permission to do anything. And you were prying, and I had a fucking headache. Plus sometimes I just can’t stand your talking. So I’m sorry if I hurt your little feelings.” He is such a condescending dick!
I rush over to the bed, pick up a pillow, and throw it at his face. “Have a nice sleep on the couch.”
“Are you fucking crazy? This is—” he begins to say, incredulous.
“Your room, I know,” I finish his sentence. “And it’ll be all yours after I leave tomorrow. But for right now, you go where assholes sleep all across the country—the fucking couch.” I stomp over to him and shove him out of the room.
He stumbles out and begins to scream at me when I slam the door shut and walk back over to the bed. I fall onto it and roughly pull the covers on my body. I listen to him cursing up a storm and a small crash before silence.
Minutes later, I fall asleep with the image of Jay Gatsby’s party playing out in my head, black eyes, and my heart in the shape of a rose, petals falling down, one by one.
***
I’m screaming at the top of my lungs before I can even comprehend what is happening. Hands are shaking me, and I’m sweating like I’d just been swimming in the ocean. I dreamt Nick from The Great Gatsby pushed me in.
But when I open my eyes, they land on a pair so black, it’s unnatural and very…beautiful—enchanting. They search my face desperately, his mouth propped open. He looks so concerned, so scared, so…fake.
“Princesa, are you—” he begins, his voice thick with sleep and an even thicker emotion.
“Get out.” My voice is small and shaky as I am still trying to recover from the rocking nightmare.
“What?”
“I said to get out!” I push at his shoulders and ignore his hurt expression. “Nothing has changed. So just…just get out! Go! Leave me—alone.” I choke out and lay back down with my back to him. Tears stream down my face, landing on the pillow beneath my head. I close my eyes and burrow myself deeper in the bed.
Why isn’t he gone yet?
“I said to leave, Grey!” I clench my eyes shut and brace myself for his departure.
The slam of the door makes me jump.
***
“Careful with that, you dipshit! I will not hesitate when it comes to sticking this up your goddamn ass if you break that!” Julia yells, gripping the clipboard tightly in her hands. I’m afraid it’ll snap. She is really serious when it comes to planning parties, huh? Or is it because it’s Jaimie’s? If not, she’d make a wonderful party planner.
After classes, I agreed to help her with the last finishing touches on the venue for the party. And, to be honest, she’s done a great job doing most of it by herself. The ice lounge is draped with lilac banners with the phrase Happy Birthday Jaimie. Silver-trimmed sheets hang over standing tables, purple glitter and champagne on top of each. The place is gorgeous. And very…purple. But it’s Jaimie’s favorite color, and it’s her twentieth birthday.
“So do you have the food arranged?” I ask as she finishes pinching a boy’s ear when he nearly dropped one of the pieces for the music set-up. I mouth an apologetic “sorry” to the boy and almost cup my own ears out of fear.
She glances over her shoulder with a look that makes me feel dumb. “Are you serious? Of course I have the food arranged. I even got those stupid crusty-donut things she loves so much.”
“They’re called cronuts,” I correct her.
She rolls her eyes and turns around to yell at another worker. He runs away, yelling for his mother.
Jesus, I would not want her as my boss.
“Can I help you with anything?” I ask. Maybe if I can have her busy with a task other than scaring the people helping, things will be easier.
She lets out a lengthy sigh and looks at her clipboard. “Help me set up her presents,” she grumbles.
“Sure.” I follow her out to the front of the venue and pick up an arm full of purple and white presents. “Whoa, this is a lot.” There must be two dozen gifts here. Maybe even more.
“Ninety percent are from me,” she says with a small smirk.
I smile myself and follow her up to the main lounge. We go back and forth, transferring and arranging the presents. Jaimie is a very materialistic person, so I can only imagine the shock and happiness once she lays her eyes on this mountain of gifts. And all from her girlfriend…it’s safe to say I cannot stay in the dorm room tonight. It’s amazing, their relationship. How they barely fight and are so trusting toward each other. I wish Grey and I could be like that. But we butt heads a lot. More than we should.
“That’s it,” Julia announces, brushing off her hands on her pants.
“Do you and Jaimie ever fight?” I blurt out and widen my eyes when the words leave my tongue. “I’m sorry! You don’t—”
“Of course we do,” she answers me, confused. “Why are you asking that?”
I hesitate, debating whether or not if I should tell her my problem. But then I realize, who is she going to tell? She’ll care so little by the time I’m done telling her that she’ll force herself to forget I ever even asked.
“Because Grey and I…well, we do. A lot. And—and we keep going back and forth all the time, sometimes I feel we’re too broken to be together,” I admit.
She laughs, catching me off guard. I don’t think I’ve heard her laugh. Ever.
“Are you dumb?” I cower, and she rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t take it personally.” How can I not? “Look, couples fight all the time. I know you’re new to all of this relationship stuff, but it’s a common thing. It isn’t all glitz and glamor and butterfly kisses. There will be disagreements and heartbreak and annoyance and frustration—just about every bad thing you can think of…but if it’s really meant to be, then the love will outweigh everything else. Everything else.”
***
I’ve been thinking deeply about Julia’s words ever since I left the lounge. Fortunately, she gave me a ride before she could rip out a poor boy’s throat. Plus, the apartment wasn’t that far from the lounge. It sure beats standing in the freezing co
ld; it’s even begun to snow.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about what she told me, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I shouldn’t just completely give up on Grey. I have to continue trying with him, see out this stupid argument that shouldn’t have even started in the first place. But that means I can’t let his harsh words get to me.
I should have stopped at the bar to prepare me for this…
Clearing my throat and the Grey-like idea from my head, I enter the elevator shaft. Maybe he’s calmed down enough and is sober enough to talk to me. Maybe he took deep breaths and thought about how good we were before. Maybe—
The elevator door opens…revealing a woman with raven-colored hair, red lips, and a slimming dress. I watch with a cool, icy glare as she cocks her head and smooths out a slightly wrinkled spot on her tiny dress.
“How may I help you?” She raises her eyebrows and looks me up and down.
“I—is Grey here?” Who the hell is she? More importantly, what is she doing here?
“Who’s that, Paige?” Grey’s voice booms behind her. She steps to the side, and his eyes land on mine and widen the same time mine does when I look at his attire. Or lack thereof. He is naked and wet, save for the towel hung around his hips.
“Oh…hey, Liv.” He smirks at me and winks like he’s proud.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Hello…Grey.” I spit his name out as if it’s poison. I’m shaking in anger. At least, I think I am. I can’t tell. But what I can tell is that I’m seeing red. Not grey, not the middle ground—full-blown red. And I wish, in this moment, to be color-blind so I could see nothing and not feel this much rage gathering inside my bones.
Like thick molasses, silence fills the apartment with the exception of my raging heart and his eyes shooting daggers at it. My eyes burn through him, and his do the same to me, not one of us speaking up. If looks could kill, we would both be six feet under.
“I think I’m going to go,” the girl named Paige says, clearly uncomfortable.
I look at her and nod slowly. “I think you should do that…Paige.” I spit her name out with an equal amount of malice. Maybe even more…no, that honor goes to Grey. He is the asshole who brought this…woman here. I swear to God if he cheated on me…
I jump when the elevator door clicks shut. I close my eyes to keep from turning around and pushing her head into the metal door.
“Okay, out with it,” he says exasperatedly.
“Don’t speak to me like that!” I snap, outraged he can even act so lighthearted after whatever this is. “Who the hell was she, and what was she doing here?” I scream, my body shaking as I point a finger at his naked chest.
He laughs and winds his long fingers through his dark, wet hair. “She’s my friend, Paige.” I wait for him to finish, but he just bounces his right brow and puts his fists on his hips. He can’t be serious. There is a lot more he’s not saying—a lot he needs to be saying. Like, what the hell is she doing here in the first place and why I have never seen her before?
“And?” I inquire impatiently.
“And she was helping me with something,” he says tiredly. Oh, is my confusion as to why a woman I have never met before is here with him, while he’s naked, boring him?
“Bullshit. Who is she really? Did you—have you been seeing her behind my back? Is that why you’ve been such a dick to me lately?” It physically hurts to ask. I would think after all we’ve been through, we’d be close enough that he wouldn’t dare do that to me.
He looks at me wide eyed and laughs. “Are you shitting me?”
“No, I’m not. Answer the question, Grey.” Why won’t he just talk to me instead of making himself out to be more of an asshole? He’s only digging himself a deeper grave. If he gets any deeper, he might stumble upon hell. Oh, the wonderful “friends” he could meet down there.
“Grey!” I shout his name, and he shakes out his hair. I ignore the way his biceps tighten and his abs clench as he does so. Why does he have to look like that? It’s distracting me.
He nods, clinging onto that devilish smile I want to literally tear off his face. “I told you, she’s my friend.”
“Yeah, I can totally see you two watching a football game together.” I roll my eyes sardonically, and he laughs. “This isn’t funny, Grey.” He sighs, and I shake my head and walk up to him. “You tell me right now what happened before I got here, or I will leave and never talk to you again. And I don’t care how much I love you. I can get over you just as fast as you got on her.”
His childish façade drips like the water falling from his hair down to his lips. “I’m telling you the truth. She only came over to help me with something.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you don’t trust me.”
“Oh, I trust you…but how would you feel if you walked in on me coming out naked with a guy answering the door?” His fists clench, and I have my answer. “That’s what I thought.” I try to brush past him, but he grabs me and wheels me back into his chest. “No, don’t touch me until you tell me what she was really doing here.”
“She is my friend, Liv,” he says through gritted teeth. “I swear on my father’s grave.” He puts his hand on his chest.
I look deep into his eyes, as deep as I can get without drowning in those black pools of his. He wouldn’t lie about his father; I know that for a fact. From how he spoke of him, it sounded like he really loved him, and his death twisted him in the worst ways. But if he is lying…well, then he’s just not the man I thought he was, is he?
“She doesn’t look like your type of friend,” I spit out the word and lower my voice, so it is covered in icicles. “Just—let go of me. I can’t even look at you.” The hurt is heavily evident in my voice.
I tear my hands away from his and storm off. He screams and chases after me, but I quickly lock myself in David’s old room. It’s empty, just as I feel. I sit on the bed and try to think beyond his yelling and the pounding on the door. But I can’t. All I can do is cry, and it’s not because of my period or because I’m just naturally hormonal. It’s because he’s turning back into that cruel monster I despised.
And I’m not so sure I can survive his torment this time.
***
The moment the car stops in front of the ice lodge, I get out. Hours have passed, and I haven’t spoken a word to Grey. Not when he so carelessly ripped my heart out. I don’t believe for a second that Paige is a friend of his. But I also can’t believe he would cheat on me. It doesn’t feel right. Because I know he’d never do that. At the same time, he lied and made me believe he did with Diana. Maybe he did the same thing with her…I don’t know.
The weirdest and most masochistic part of this is…I don’t think I even have the heart to leave if he did do something with her.
I sigh as I look up at the sign. Feeling a hand on my back, I look over my shoulder. Grey looks at me with an unidentifiable expression. He and I stare at each other until I finally find it in myself to walk inside. He doesn’t get to touch me. Not now and not ever until he tells me the truth. For now, I’ll put on a smile and act like we’re okay. Just for Jaimie. Because it’s her night.
I wholeheartedly grin when I take in the ongoing party. Some popular song is playing on blast. Girls in colorful sequined dresses and guys with button-up shirts flood the dance floor. My skin bubbles with goosebumps as the ice room settles around me.
I almost ask Grey for his jacket, since he’s like his own sun and doesn’t even need it, or even step into it with him and curl up against his chest, but then I remember he and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms, and I awkwardly sling my arms around my stomach and attempt to scope out Julia, which shouldn’t be that hard since she’ll most likely be the only one wearing black.
And then I hear it.
“Where is the cake? She’s going to be here any second. Did your mother drop you on your head when you popped out of her crusty little vagina?”
“Julia!” I call
her name once I spot her running down a boy wearing a headset, which he is speaking rapidly into and stealing nervous glances over his shoulder. Ignoring the demanding presence just behind me despite the chilliness that surrounds each solid-ice block wall, I start after her. I wiggle through tight spaces of dancing bodies and put my hand on her shoulder, stopping her from ripping off the boy’s headset and, possibly, his ears too.
“Another guy I have to murder?” She wheels around, fist ready to meet my face. But then she recognizes it’s me. “Oh, it’s just you.”
“Um, ouch?”
She rolls her eyes and looks around, talking, but not to me. It’s then I realize she’s wearing a headset, like that boy she was just chasing. Then she swivels her eyes toward me and barks, “Is there something you want?”
“No, I—I just wanted to say hi.” Sounds lame, but it’s the best response I could come up with. Really, I just needed to get away from Grey. I need time away from him. And staying in a separate room or not speaking a word in a car isn’t enough. “Actually, is there anything I can—”
“Shut the fuck up. She’s here,” Julia exclaims, using the clipboard in her hands to push my head to the side. Staring past me to the front entrance, she squints her eyes.
“Everyone shut the fuck up and get ready to say the one thing I invited you God-awful people for.”
Everyone gets quiets, too afraid to say or do anything.
“Hit the lights, fucker!” she shouts and hikes past me, pushing and cursing people out of the way. The lights are instantly cut off. Leaving behind indignant expressions and harsh whispers, she gets to the frontline. I walk behind her and come up shoulder to shoulder with Grey. I can feel his eyes on me, his aura warming my cold skin. I hold my breath and focus my attention on the door.
“Why is it so dark in here? I’m so giving this place a bad yelp review…” Jaimie mutters as she opens the door. But once she steps inside, she is pounced with a very loud whopping greeting.
Grey: The Infatuation (Spectrum Series Book 2) Page 28
