Grey: New Beginnings (Spectrum Series Book 5)

by Allison White

  Grey doesn’t appreciate this and growls. “Get the fuck out!”

  Mother opens her mouth, and I know her peace accord has broken.

  “Stop!” I point a finger at her, and she closes her mouth, snapping her head to look out at the city. I look up to Grey and tip his chin down to meet my eyes. “I will get rid of her. Just…go sit down over there in the meantime.” He opens his mouth to protest, but I put my finger on his lips. “I promise, please.”

  He looks to my mother, grumbles curses under his breath, then jerks away from me and leans against the wall next to the door, glaring at my mother as he crosses his arms and raises his brows in a challenging gesture.

  This man will be the death of me. I swear.

  Mother walks over to me, trying her best to ignore Grey’s intimidating presence. “I really would like to fix things between us, Olivia. I have already lost too much…I don’t want to lose you too.” Her voice cracks, and I bite my tongue as she looks over at Grey, blue eyes droopy with sadness. “I’m sorry for all the grief I have caused you. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me…the both of you. You have my number.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile, then is out of my office.

  I stand in the doorway for what feels like an eternity as I try to decide what I feel.

  “Wanna tell me what that was about?” Grey asks, jaw tight.

  I look into his questioning black eyes and shrug. “She wants forgiveness.”

  He scoffs and stares up at the ceiling. “Do you really think she deserves it?”

  I chew on my lip and look to the ground.

  He tips my head up and shakes his head. “Well?”

  “I…” I take a step back and wrap my arms around my stomach. “I don’t know, Grey.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Grey spends the rest of the day with me in my office, but we don’t speak. He allows me to be in my thoughts. But it’s not exactly a sweet gesture like he assumes. It’s torture, because I am alone with my jumbled thoughts and emotions. Though it does give me time to ponder what I want to do. Too bad I can’t get over the tidal waves of battling feelings to decide what I should do. I hate this. The fact that I have to think about forgiving my mother or not to rejuvenate our relationship…we should already be secure with each other. I shouldn’t have to contemplate if she’s planning on throwing me under lock and key in a psych ward.

  Should I forgive my mother and really try to fix our broken relationship? Or do I just give up? I mean, she has done so much bad to me. She’s wronged me more times than I can count. And I have forgiven her so many times after all of her attempts to separate me from Grey. So if I forgive her now, will she betray me again? She is a woman who sticks firmly to her beliefs, and she believes that I’m making the worst mistake of my life being with a monster like Grey. But he’s not a monster, and there is no getting that through her determined skull. She will always see me as a stupid little girl who doesn’t know when she’s being irrational, a dumb girl who should listen to her mother while having no thoughts of her own.

  Only thing is I am not a little girl. I am not dumb, naïve, or going through a phase. I am just a new adult going through college, jump-starting her career with the love of her life by her side. There is nothing wrong with my love for Grey. Sure, we go through our blissful ups and insane downs, but he’s always there for me. He has proven that, more than she has. He was by my side, holding my hand, when I went through a trauma that still affects me to this day. But where was she? Not by me, that’s for sure. What sort of mother doesn’t come rushing to the hospital when her child is shot but is so quick to throw them in the mental ward for loving someone she does not approve of?

  I’m not saying I don’t want a nice, healthy relationship with her. I do. But there is, and I believe there always will be, a side of me that is just a bit apprehensive, worried she will strike and make her next insane move on me again.

  “Hey, you okay?” Grey’s rough but calming voice lulls me out of my jumbled thoughts. His dark eyes regard me with a concerned expression while his right hand lays upon the small of my back. I listen to him talking and the slight crank of metal and wires as we head into his—sorry—our loft. It is still so odd yet amazing to be able to say we live together, so far without any major issues. It’s just been our love keeping my semi-dysfunctional heart pumping.

  I nod, bunching my lips to one side. “I’m fine. Just a bit in my head.”

  The elevator shaft finally stops and parts ways vertically. Once the chipped blue painted doors have disappeared, I step out but stumble as my chest tightens a little bit. My vision blurs, and I quickly run my hand over my heart.

  “Whoa, you are obviously not okay.” He rushes out of the shaft and wraps his arms around me, stabilizing me on my feet.

  “I am, promise,” I tell him.

  He just rolls his eyes at my persistence, then puts one hand under my thighs and the other on my lower back. He lifts me into his chest with ease and walks over to the couches. He lays me on the one that faces the TV, oh so gently. I lay against the cute flowery throw pillow I basically forced him to decorate the chairs with, along with a few other decorations in the apartment. It was a real tough challenge to convince him to get the cushions, but they were just too cute.

  “Are you listening to me?” He snaps his fingers in my face.

  “Huh?” I groan, rubbing my throbbing temples.

  “I’ve been talking to you, but you’ve just been staring at the ceiling,” he explains and rubs his forehead, mouth strained in a straight line. “I’m calling Doctor Fitz.” He pulls his phone out of his jeans and begins tapping, and I freak out, grabbing his wrist. He lifts an eyebrow at me, and I take deep breaths, slowly pulling myself up.

  “There’s no need for that. I’m fine,” I lie, feeling a headache creep under my skin.

  “You almost fainted and grabbed your fucking heart. You aren’t fine,” he snaps, and I pull out the big card—whimpering. “Oh…oh, no. Don’t do…that.” He gestures to my big eyes and gaping lips. He rolls his eyes and stands, covering my body with the nice fuchsia blanket I knitted for him. I gave it to him as a thank you for being by my side every day while I was in the hospital. Sure, I was hopped up on pain medicine and in actual pain most of the time and made a few mistakes here and there, but it’s the thought that counts. Plus, it was scary and stressful in that white room. I had to keep my mind busy.

  “I’ll get you some tea,” he grumbles as he shuffles into the kitchen.

  “Lavender,” he and I both call out. I sit up, ignoring the sting in my chest and watch his lips curl into a rueful, knowing smirk. “Babe, I know you like the back of my hand.”

  “Then what am I thinking of right now?” I challenge him, crossing my arms.

  He sighs, his head craned back as he gazes up in one of the cupboards. “How you want your lavender tea in your favorite purple cup…which is dirty and in the wash with all of our other coffee mugs?”

  “Good. Now what are you going to do next, which we both know you will do?” I quiz him, squinting my eyes.

  “The only thing a sane, smart human would do—use a cereal bowl,” he scoffs proudly.

  “Oh, how I love you.” I laugh as I fall back onto the cough.

  Five minutes later, he is sitting on my feet with a cereal bowl of my favorite tea.

  “For you, my love.” He bows his head as he offers me the bowl.

  “Merci, mon amour.” I smile softly and lean my head against his chest, closing my eyes in contentment as he rubs my curled-up knees resting against his stomach. I take a few sips, silently wishing he had read my mind just a little more.

  “I started the dishes in the dishwasher and here.” He drops a fortune cookie onto my head, and I laugh, causing him to chuckle and me to bounce a little. “The leftover fortune cookie I saw you eyeing last night. I told you, there’s no thought I can’t read from you, princesa.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I scrunch up my nose and peer into his eyes. “What am
I thinking now?”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re thinking how I am complete bullshit and really want to kiss me.”

  “No. You got it wrong. Ha.” I stick my tongue out at him.

  He raises a brow and leans down, covering my mouth and tongue with his. I gasp in surprise and whine about my tea that might spill. He just laughs like he understood my mumbling and keeps kissing me. It is sweet and slow and tugs at my heartstrings. I hold the back of his neck gently and deepen the kiss a tad, letting him explore me while I get lost in the sparks that run from his mouth touching mine all the way down my back.

  I love this man with all of my heart and more. I would give him my soul and entire being if he asked. I am so head over heels that it is ridiculous, because he has the kindest heart, sweetest soul, and brightest smile—even when he puts on a hard façade. I see past it all. I see him, for him.

  He pulls away much too soon, catching his breath with his forehead against mine. “You should give her another chance…”

  “Who?” I ask, furrowing my brows and lightly kissing his lips.

  He smiles against my mouth and murmurs, “Your mother.”

  I sigh into his lips, and he gently rubs my back, single-handedly relieving me of the pain in my chest.

  “You should,” he reiterates.

  “Why do you want me to give her a chance?” I ask, honestly confused. “I thought you’d be the last person to convince me of that.”

  “I just…” He shrugs and delves into his own thoughts while playing with a piece of my hair. “You know how my relationship with my mom is practically nonexistent. Not that I’m saying I want to forgive the woman—that’s just not fucking happening anytime soon or, like, ever—but I want you to be cool with your mom. I know she’s done a lot of fucked-up shit and isn’t my biggest fan, but maybe she’ll get used to the idea of us and will finally accept that you’re a grown adult. I just don’t want you to be full of guilt and regret when years and years pass and you’re still feuding with your mother.”

  I tear up at the end of his little speech.

  I think about his words for a while, playing with my bottom lip as I do.

  “Oooh, I’ve rubbed off on you.” He tickles my side playfully.

  “Stop! I’m thinking,” I hush him and pat his hand away.

  “Fine.” He rolls his eyes with a smile dancing on his lips. He exhales deeply, making me sink into his body as he lays his head back on the couch. I drink my tea and nibble on my cookie as I think.

  Grey surprises me. I never thought he’d ever advocate for my mother. I mean, the woman despises him like it’s her life’s calling. And she has basically shoved medicine at me and sat me down in front of a therapist who only fed me the lines she paid her to say…so does she really deserve it? No. I can’t think like that, because she doesn’t. But a part of me knows that she did whatever she did for me. That stupid, naïve little part of me still vies for her approval. However, I let the larger, more mature part of me drown that nuisance out, and I root the idea of starting over, her old, vile acts behind her. I want to start fresh and have an actual mother. My heart aches for it too much.

  “Yes,” I finally say, coming to my conclusion. I set the wrapper of the cookie and bowl down on the glass coffee table.

  “Yes what? Yes, you were reading my mind and decided you’ll make me your award-winning lasagna? Or yes, you’re going to try to fix your relationship with the dragon, you know, after she grovels for a bit, of course?”

  “Yes, to both.” I chuckle.

  “I should totally be a therapist. I just fixed everything.”

  “No, you didn’t. But nice try.” I poke his shoulder.

  “Maybe this will do the trick…” He brings my face near his and overtakes my lips powerfully, dripping with his love. I feel it in the crack of my bones and pool in the middle of my chest. I swim in the passion and lightly sigh in contentment in his mouth, cupping his rough cheeks.

  “Je t’aime,” I whisper, pulling back the slightest.

  He licks my lips and tries to repeat it but completely butchers the phrase. I burst into laughter at his expense, gripping his shoulder. “Stop laughing at me. I tried.” He pouts like a baby, and I coo as I peck his lips, rubbing my thumb over his dimple.

  “Y es por eso que te amo,” I whisper in his native tongue, using mine to poke his dimple, making him chuckle heavily and grip me closer to his chest. (And that’s why I love you.)

  “That’s much better,” he mumbles with a smile that makes it hard to breathe. But then his lips are on me, tasting me, claiming me, savoring me…and I can breathe again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, I am filled with dread because the select interns will be visiting a mental institution. I am not deathly afraid a patient will try to gouge my eye out with a plastic fork or anything. Though it is plausible and can really happen, it’s not the reason my palms are sweaty, and my head feels light. Gosh. Now that I think about that, what if it really does happen to me? Oh! My hands fly to my eyes, and I rub in fear of losing them before I realize I may look like I belong in a cell at the institution.

  I’m anxious about how I will do. I have a fear of failing, and it is the last thing I want to happen today. We are supposed to shadow doctors while they guide us around and explain everything thoroughly, like the kind of drugs the patients take, their practices of how they evaluate patients—the whole nine yards. And I am gravely nervous I will mishear or not hear at all or upset a patient and get a black mark on my reputation.

  I know I should have some faith in me, I do. I mean, I got into this program twice now, and I am not saying that to brag or anything. But obviously I have some sort of talent for this profession. I somewhat know my way around the field and am naturally adept with psychology. It’s not like I will be examining anyone, either. I’m just observing. I will be lightly assessing in a few days. That is when I can confidently say I am freaking out. But today, I can do today. I can totally do today without any problem.

  I tell myself this over and over on the way to the asylum. I hum a very light tune in the company van as it drives along the forested area. The trees are huge, and the road is clear and wide. I smile at the vibrant orange and dark red leaves drifting down from the trees and littering the ground. The scenery is breathtaking and a vast contrast to the city we left behind.

  I have always loved fall, so bright and calm and smelling like pumpkin. Oh, pumpkin. Thinking about it now makes my stomach bubble in loss. I tried to eat the food Grey made for me like the cutie he is, but I physically couldn’t stomach it. Not because I was rude…because his food making skills aren’t all that…great. He tries, and I love him for it. But because, well, I felt nauseous because, like I’ve explained, I have been so wracked with angst. But the thought of pumpkin pie makes me ravenous, weird. Maybe it’s just the upcoming holiday scent looming in the air that’s appealing to me.

  “No, bugger off!” William snaps beside me, annoyed as Lily yanks on his shoulder.

  “Shut up already. We get it. You’re British,” she exclaims, making the other interns look at her weirdly. “Just…bitch, I swear to God, if you don’t move right now, I will literally kick your ass to Britain to have high tea with the Queen.”

  I hold my hand over my mouth to keep in the laughter as they continue to bicker, her throwing in funny insults after the next while he counters with some British slang I don’t understand. Finally, he gives in and lets her climb over his lap, straddling for a second in which she repeated, “Ew, ew, ew!” before he finally scooted to the right and took his seat. Right next to me.

  Flustered red cheeks, soft red hair scattered, and all.

  “‘Sup.” She nods coolly at me, and I chuckle.

  “Hello?” I say more as a question than anything.

  “So…have you and your hubby bunny, you know.” She jabs me pointedly in the side, referring to Grey.

  “Have we what?” I tilt my head in pure confusion, and s
he laughs, pointing at me.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she says, but I am honestly lost.

  “Huh?”

  She sighs and shakes her head. “You have a desk, your own office. Leaving me with this piece of shit.” She throws her thumb to William, who merely grunts at her with a flick of his eyes. She grins in satisfaction, and I chuckle. “But you get where I’m going. You guys must have banged in the new place. ‘Cause if you haven’t already, well, then it’s just a plain damn crime.”

  My cheeks flush red, and I am thankful for the grumble of the van and the light chatter about, because I would be as red as the leaves on the road if everyone heard what she is so crudely suggesting.

  “W-what? No! Of course not,” I stutter frantically.

  She nods, but the smile on her lips says otherwise. “Right, right. ‘Cause you don’t look like a fuck on the desk kind of gal…” She pauses, then winks at me.

  “Lily.” I groan as I shove my face into my palms, horrified.

  “Liv.” She mimics me, and I laugh through my fingers. She laughs too, and I notice a dimple just under the corner of her mouth. I remove my hands and try my best to hide my smile as she wiggles her brows while murmuring, “Huh? Eh? A li’l come on…”

  Oh, what the hell. Who is she going to tell? It doesn’t look like she gets along with any of the other interns, and she hates William…

  I look around, making sure everyone else is busy chattering away. When I find no one notices my wandering eyes and that William’s face is glued to his phone, I sigh in resignation and shrug my shoulders a little. “Maybe a little…s-something?” I wave a hand, and the inner Grey in me comes out, because half of my mouth slinks up, and I’m pretty sure my eyes glimmer with mischief. Only difference is he looks like an evil cute bunny when he does it. Me on the other hand? Eh. Not so much.

  Her eyes blow up, and her hands go haywire. “Oh my God! That is—fuck, tell me everything!”