He’s going to have his eyes roll out of his head one day, I swear.
“Grey,” I whine his name, and he cuts me a glare. My smile only widens, because I hear him even before he opens his mouth.
“I’ll think about it…okay?” His tone is sharp, but my heart doesn’t get the message.
I lurch into his arms and smile. “Proud of you.”
He merely grumbles, but I can hear the smile through his grumpiness.
***
Somehow, I managed to persuade Grey to drive me to the mall, but it didn’t really take much, considering it’s snowing heavily out and he wouldn’t dare allow me to “freeze my cute tooshie off,” his words, of course.
I have one day to buy his gift, because tomorrow is literally Christmas. I can’t believe it. It came so quickly I barely noticed, and it hurts because I still don’t have something for my man—for my Grey. But that will definitely change today. It might take me all day, but I’m hunting down his gift in every nook and cranny.
I told him that I was shopping for “girl things,” and he was quick to stay in the car. I don’t know what “girl things” means to him, but it must mean tampons and bras he can’t undo, because the look on his face changed dramatically and he tensed. But I didn’t mind the slightest bit because he can’t see what I’m getting him.
But even as I shuffle through endless t-shirts and sneakers and Home Depot for God knows what, I just don’t see anything that screams Grey.
“Something troubling you, sweetie?” Helen croons behind me, and I jump as her hand touches my skin. I turn around from shuffling through a sweater rack, and she smiles sheepishly and tips her palms up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay, and yes. Something is troubling me.” I turn back around and let out a frustrated breath, shoving Christmas-styled sweaters to the side. “I can’t find anything for Grey.” I clutch a wool sweater and shut my eyes. “I am the worst girlfriend ever,” I groan.
She laughs, and I frown at her. “You are not. From what I see, you two are great together.” Then she crosses her arms and pinches her lower lip. Wow. So that’s where he gets it from…trippy. “You just need to think—what does he like? What is he interested in? What will he look at and truly love?”
I chew on my lip and turn, diving into my thoughts. Okay, I have this. I know this man pretty dang well. What does he like, what does he like…? Me, but I can’t just wrap a ribbon around my ankle and say Merry Christmas! I could, but it’d be lazy, and Jaimie’s already using that idea—I want to be original. What does he like…oh! He likes punching people…boy, is he weird. Um, there isn’t much I can do with that—wait!
“I think I have an idea!” I exclaim, and she jumps, shocked from my sudden outburst. “Sorry, but I think I know what to get him.” He may not like it, though. He could have hundreds of them already.
***
“We’re back,” I announce as I slide into the passenger side after putting his presents in the back. Yes, presents—plural, because I thought of two perfect things. I can’t wait to go home and wrap his gifts and put them under the—
“What’s wrong?” I immediately notice his tenseness. From his tight jaw to his flaring nose, even to his grip around the steering wheel.
He faces me and doesn’t say anything as his mother slips into the backseat. She had her gift for him wrapped in a store. I don’t know what, but she promises it’ll make him happy. I’ll just have to take her word for it. But I do know it won’t make him any more pleased when he sees my gifts.
“Are we going home or what?” Helen cheerfully says.
I glance at her and smile. “Leaving right now.” I give her an assuring, wide smile, but it doesn’t reach anywhere near my eyes. I turn back and open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong, but he revs the engine and spins out of the parking and speeds onto the road. I shut my mouth and stare at him, worried and confused.
What the heck happened while we were shopping? I’ll ask him when he get home. Whatever it is, it’s obviously not good.
***
The minute we get home, Grey orders me to stay in his room while he has a talk with his mother. I should be happy that he’s really trying with her, but the way he told me in a clipped tone and the look in his eyes, it didn’t sound like he wanted to sit down and “talk things out.” I just couldn’t even find it in me to protest. Whatever he had to talk to her about couldn’t be so bad. He wouldn’t just kick her out after promising me to at least give her a chance this morning.
I wrap each present, delicately placing on shiny, colorful bows. I get up and open the door before realizing they’re still talking—even though it’s been an hour of me carefully wrapping—to stall and keep myself from just bursting out and interrupting whatever they are talking about. Maybe he’s realized that, since it is close to his father’s death, he should try and rebuild their relationship before it’s her time.
I am closing the door to give them privacy when I hear an unfamiliar voice.
“Thank you for calling me. We’ve been looking everywhere for her.”
I step out and take careful steps, listening like the nosy girl I am. I poke my head out, just barely enough to find a young girl in purple scrubs with her dark, curly hair strung up in a pink Scrunchie.
“Can’t I just stay for one more day?” Helen pleads, her eyes welling with tears. “Tomorrow’s Christmas, for goodness’ sakes.”
“You know we can’t have that, Helen,” the young girl says and nods to the elevator door. “Now, come on. The van is waiting for us.”
Helen bursts into tears. Grey just stands there with a hard look on his face, arms crossed over his chest. He glares at his mother openly and doesn’t seem bothered when the apparent nurse grabs Helen’s wrist and begins pulling her out of the apartment.
I finally jump into action and jump out from the hallway. “Helen? Who is that girl? What’s happening?” The questions fall from my lips as I chase after her, bypassing an unmoving Grey. The young woman in purple scrubs doesn’t let go of her hand, just pulls her along into the open elevator.
Helen whips her head over her shoulder, her eyes full of tears and lips trembling. “Take this. Please, i-it’s for him. For Grey.” She hands me a rectangular wrapped gift with a bow, and I take it with a frown.
“I don’t get it.” I look up, but she and the lady are already gone, the elevator shaft moving downward. “What the…” I whip around and walk over to Grey, who still hasn’t moved. “What’s going on? Where’s she going?”
“She escaped from the mental institution,” is all he says.
And my stomach drops.
Chapter Forty-Eight
I lay awake at eleven. Not because I’m waiting for twelve o’clock to strike, signaling Christmas, but because I simply can’t sleep. What happened a few hours ago can’t stop repeating itself in my head. It was a total shock, leaving me more confused than I’ve ever been, and I have a hell of a lot of questions. Ones that were answered by Grey. I would have pushed and pushed, because I deserved to know why he didn’t tell me his mother was in a goddamn mental facility.
Apparently, she left without anyone knowing. When I asked Grey if he didn’t find it odd that his mother, who was under lock and key, was here, he said he thought they let her out just for the holidays. But apparently, they don’t do that. Her disorder is particularly very effective because of her husband’s passing, which makes sense. Traumatic events make those with a mental disorder lose all kinds of control, and time warps them back to that unfortunate event.
And when I asked Grey if he felt bad for calling the facility and getting someone to take her back, he told me an answer I was expecting but was naïvely wishing he wouldn’t say—no. He said that she’s a danger to herself and, more so, to us.
I don’t think I have ever felt worse. If I had known, I like to think I could have talked him out of doing it. To think about how horrible she must be feeling as well. But I know even that wouldn’t deter him. His mother
is just one of his demons I can never banish or make him see the good in.
As I lay here in the dark, swallowed in silence save for his light snores, I wonder if I changed him at all. For the better, I mean. He didn’t hesitate in calling the facility. And he didn’t hesitate when going after that man and beating him up, only for him to come back for revenge. Maybe he’s just always going to be like this. Forever tormented by his past, never able to move on to a better, brighter future.
Letting out an exhausted sigh, unable to get even a minute of sleep, I push the comforters off of my body and stand. I glance at Grey, watch his bare, muscular back shift up and down, then pad into the kitchen. I make a cup of jasmine tea and curl into the couch facing the TV. I don’t turn it on. I just sit in the dark, save for the Christmas lights shining on the tree.
I stare at the presents that sit under it and try my best to push this unsettling feeling in my chest down. Because I know I’ve changed, and I know it’s definitely for the worst. And I don’t think I should even be here right now, because I am no better than him.
***
“Hey, wake up, Liv. Get up.” A soft whisper and even softer kisses makes me shift in place. I try swatting away whatever is trying to wake me and hear laughter. Deep laughter that makes my stomach flutter.
I peek one eye open. Grey is kneeling beside me, his face a bare inch from mine. He has a warm smile and dimples popped into place, and it takes me a while to understand what’s happening.
“Christmas,” I mumble with a smile as I yawn, stretching my arms out and accidentally pushing his face away. He chuckles, eyes pinched closed. He gently pulls me up and makes me stand. I wobble, still exhausted but energetic in spirit.
I let him pull me to the tree and yawn as I sit in a crisscross position on the floor. “What time is it?”
“Christmas time,” he answers.
I glare at him. “You know what I mean.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He turns to the gifts and hands me a large rectangular one. It’s horribly wrapped, but at least he tried. I laugh, and his cheeks flush. I cautiously take the bow off and place it on the ground beside me.
“This was always my favorite part,” he says, and I stop to look at him. His eyes are dark and his smile light as I lean over and peck his lips and rub his back.
“I know,” I mumble into his neck, and he hugs me back briefly before pushing me back and staring at the present. I laugh and nod frantically. “Okay, okay—I’m opening it.” I love how excited he is; it’s adorable.
He watches me with hawk eyes as I peel off the wrapper and come face to face with the back of a large picture frame. “Flip it over, genius,” he says impatiently.
“I was going to! Geez, calm down.” I finally flip it over and furrow my brows. It’s a painting of a gray penguin that says my name in the middle of its stomach.
He rubs the back of his neck. “I know how much you like penguins, actually I guessed, and it’s gray because, um, me. And, yeah—it’s horrible, I’m sorry.” He rubs harder; I think he’s going to take his skin off. “I spent two days to make it all nice and—wow, I’m such a fucking idiot. I’ll get rid of it for you.” He reaches for it.
“Stop it.” I smack his hand away and clutch it to my chest. “I love it, and I’m being serious. It’s perfect, Grey. Thank you.”
The pink in his cheeks doesn’t fade as he grumbles under his breath and tugs at the waist of my pajama pants. “You’re welcome.”
I set the painting down and hand him one of mine to him to ease the tension. “Here. Open mine.” I, too, am nervous. But I think what I got him will make him very happy. Or at least, I hope it does. For it being last minute, I hope it’s something he’d want or even use.
I watch as he bounces his eyebrows while tearing the paper off haphazardly. I laugh because he looks like an over-excited child but a cute one. An ultra-cute one. When he finally gets to the actual box, he tears it open, stares at it, gasps a long gasp, then looks back at me…and gasps again. He pulls the object out and practically chokes me in a tight hug.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he says over and over, and I laugh as he pulls back. He holds up the ridiculously expensive fighter gloves. He looks at me with the cutest smile. “You are…the best. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. You…do like it, right?”
He scoffs and regards the gloves with a soft sigh. “Of course I do. Oh, the people I can knock out with these.” He presses the shiny leather to his cheek and sucks in a deep breath, eyes pinched closed.
“Okay, I get it.” I laugh, and he pops his eyes open. “My turn.” I smile bigger and rub my hands, eyeing another, smaller box, beside his leg. I begin to reach for it, but he literally smacks my hand away. I sit back, frowning. “Why did you—”
“I have to open my other one. Rude.”
Okay?
He picks up his other, larger present, tears off the wrapping paper, and rips open the cardboard box. His smile drops, and he cocks his head to the side. “You are…” He reaches a hand in and touches it, a smile slowly forming on his face. I blush profusely as he pulls the jacket from the box. He holds it up and laughs as he looks at it from front to back.
“If you don’t like it, I can get you something else. Maybe, I don’t know…socks?” I choke and anxiously play with his charm on my wrist. His eyes take in the rich leather with fascination.
He laughs again and brings the leather jacket to his chest, baring a wide grin. “It’s fucking awesome. This is fucking awesome.” He taps the engraved letter “G” on the upper left side. “I love it, babe. Thank you.” He leans over and pecks my lips.
“You’re welcome.” My eyes shift to the little wrapped present Helen handed to me before she was taken away. “But you have one more.” He looks confused until I reach behind him, grab the gift, and sit back, placing it on his lap. “It’s from your mother.”
“Then I am done,” he says with a wide smile that drips with sarcasm, putting it to the side.
I groan and put it back in his lap. “Open it, Grey…please,” I beg and jut out my bottom lip.
He rolls his eyes and grumbles as he peels away the wrapping. “Necesitas dejar de ser tan maldita adorable todo el maldito tiempo.” (You need to stop being so goddamn adorable all the damn time.)
When he pops open the cardboard box, he stares with an empty expression. His brows are scrunched together, his lips turned down in a deep frown.
“What is it?” I ask him and try to peer over, but he lifts his gaze. Stunned by the amount of emotions swimming in his eyes, I slowly sit back. “Grey, what’s wrong?” Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad, right?
He answers me by reaching in the box and plucking out a golden frame. I don’t understand what has him so tongue-tied until he flips it around. I squint my eyes and scoot closer. I barely hold in my gasp as I take the frame from him.
A small little pair of black eyes stare at me from an even smaller Grey. It’s the photoshoot Helen was talking about, the one where Grey was so hesitant to take part of. A small smile warms up until I’m grinning from ear to ear. His lips are twisted into an upset snarl as he crosses his arms, glaring into the camera while his parents hold onto him from behind, smiling widely into the camera.
“Oh my God,” I say, tearing up. I look into his eyes, present Grey. “You were so…cute.” I draw out the word.
He groans and blushes, looking away. I laugh as he rolls his eyes and rubs the back of his neck, trying to keep up his status with being “cool.” It makes me laugh out loud, so much that my stomach begins to cramp up.
“Shut up,” he mumbles.
I laugh harder.
Fed up with me, he rips the photo out of my hands and shoves it back in the box before flinging it on the couch.
“Forget you ever saw that,” he demands.
“Never,” I say and reach over to pinch his chubby cheeks.
“Fuck off,” he curses, slapping my hand away with an a
nnoyed huff.
I laugh some more and wipe away tears. I’m so going to take a picture of that and save it as my phone background.
“Okay, okay, now can I open my other gift?” I make grabby hands at the small box next to him.
“Oh, okay, you greedy minx.” He hands me the present, and I feel my heart leap as I take it and peel the paper off. I gasp and feel my heart stop. “No…no…no!” It’s a signed first edition copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. “But this must have cost, like, five hundred dollars! At least! How did you—”
“There’s more to it,” he cuts me off. “Open to the first page.” His tone is more serious; it makes a chill run down my spine. But I do as told.
In his writing in black sharpie is:
There is no place I’d rather be than in the Grey with you…Love, G xx
“Oh,” I gasp, tears bubbling in my eyes. “That’s so—”
“Shhh.” He presses a finger to my lips and whispers, “Open the page where the bookmark is.” He holds up a long string somewhere in the middle of the book.
I hold the string and prop open the book to the pages. Attached to the string is…is a…a key. I can feel my heart behind my tongue and hear each beat. Thump, thump, thump! A question forms behind my heart, behind my throat, and burns in my soul.
“What…is this?” My voice is creaky, wary.
“Liv, will you move in with me?” he asks, and I try but fail to blink back tears. They form in massive drops and trail down my cheek. He must take my silence and tears as a no and clears his throat. “You…you don’t have to, if you don’t—”
I launch forward and smash my lips onto his. I straddle his lap and hold his face in place, as if he could melt and dissipate through my fingers. I hold him steady, and I kiss him fiercely, giving him everything I have in me. His large hands grip my waist, and I grip his hair. I pull him forward, wanting more. And he gives it, deepening the kiss, and kissing me back with so much passion, so much fire…I feel sweat slick against my bare thighs and my cheeks, as if we were by a fireplace.
Grey: The Infatuation (Spectrum Series Book 2) Page 38
