“I should get going,” he said, making no attempt to leave. If anything, I felt his hold on me tighten.
“What? You just got back. I thought you wanted to talk.” As soon as the words came out, I heard how panicked they sounded.
We managed to sit up and he pulled me into his lap.
Bad move, dude. You’re still naked. I’m still naked.
“I’m just going back to my hotel,” he said. He kissed the spot behind my ear and I moaned a little. I turned to kiss him deeply and his muffled laugh vibrated into my mouth. “Lucie.”
He took my face in his hands and I leaned into his palm. He held me back to look in my eyes. “Keep doing that and I may never leave,” he murmured.
“Promise?”
His amusement slid and slowly vanished from his face. His eyes darted away, looking for a point of focus.
“Grey, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” he assured me while easily lifting me from his lap. We both stood.
“Please stay?” I asked, but it was really more of a plea. It felt ridiculous, but I wanted him here as if that would erase the past few days. “It’s late. You should stay.”
“I don’t know, um …” His naked fidgeting and trying to cover himself was somehow incredibly cute to me.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “I … I was just thinking that if you stay, we could hang out tomorrow, you know? Get to know each other a little better. Maybe take a walk, have brunch, or lunch. Or dinner.”
“Screw breakfast, I guess,” he said with a lopsided grin.
“I am highly amenable to having you for breakfast,” I replied, straight-faced.
He closed his eyes and shook his head in amusement.
I laughed. “Listen, just stay. You’ll stay, yeah? You have to fix the curtains anyway,” I told him with a wink.
He swallowed and a flash of discomfort washed over his face. It was quick, but I saw it. I had no idea how to ask about it, and wasn’t sure if I should.
“Okay.”
I kissed him quickly, and went about typical bedtime stuff. I washed my face and started to brush my teeth, but stopped mid-brush when I noticed him staring from the doorway. Still naked.
“What?” I asked through a smile and a mouthful of suds.
Grey laughed, low and breathy. “I don’t have anything to sleep in.”
I spit, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Oh, you’re already wearing it, hot stuff.”
I handed him a spare toothbrush and slapped him on his bare ass before I walked out the door and into the bedroom. I did a freaky little happy dance and collected myself.
“You may have noticed I’m wearing the same invisible pajamas,” I called.
“I noticed.”
His near-growl totally turned me on. Again. I blew the hair out of my face and spotted my phone on the nightstand.
Vivi had sent a text about a half hour ago, so I sent a quick reply.
All’s well, V.
Apparently she was still up.
Meaning?
Grey’s back.
Really.
I sighed, understanding her concern.
I slapped him. Hard. Does that help?
ILY <3 He deserves worse, but it’s a start.
ILY2. Talk soon.
That’s it? No more scoop?!
Later.
Fine. Don’t forget spa weekend coming up! Grey is not invited.
*eye roll* I know that. Looking fwd to it.
Maybe slap him one more time for me, k?
Hello?
This number is now on “ignore Vivi.”
Hahahahahahaha!
“Who was that?” The gravelly whisper in my ear sent shivers over my skin and made my heart hiccup. I felt the warmth of his body behind me and pressed back. He hesitated at first but wrapped his arms around me.
“Vivi asked if I’m okay,” I said, looking away as I continued, “I stayed with her for a few days. I was really upset and I didn’t want to be alone.”
His arms fell away. “Right.” His warmth left me, guilt palpable in his body’s absence.
“Grey.” I spun and grabbed his hands, pulling him back to me. “This is just us right now, okay? Just us. I promise.”
He looked unconvinced, but he nodded.
“Hey, I had every right to be angry and upset. Don’t you think?”
Another nod, almost imperceptible this time. “Aren’t you still?”
I slapped his face lightly to get him to look me in the eyes and his responding expression forced me to swallow a smile. “I’m working on that, quite honestly, but that’s why I want you to stay. Come on.” I pulled him toward the bed and threw back the covers. “I can tell you a bedtime story.”
His lips curved, but he acquiesced. “Is it a scary story?” he teased as I climbed in.
“A little.”
And it was, really. It was my story. The story of how I became this weird version of me. The murders and the fire, waking up clean of it all … I supposed that was kind of horrific from an outsider’s perspective.
Grey rested his head on the pillow with half his face consumed by its loft as I began. I focused on the aftermath when I woke, but I shared what I knew of before and the attack itself. It wasn’t my first retelling of what happened, but since it was to someone so important, it felt hollow. I just didn’t feel right to say what happened to me—not because I remembered it that way but rather like history book text.
Through all of it, though, he remained silent. His expression was stony sometimes, almost blank. I nervously watched his eyes in the dim light. They morphed from stormy seas to bright inviting blue—at least in my mind. His face was partially in shadow, and those shadows played tricks, especially when I was tired. I’d spent many sleepless nights in the hospital, watching dark corners become nightmares.
“So after months in the hospital, you moved in with Vivi and,” he paused, taking in a deep breath, “Nash?”
“Mmhmm.” I nodded, inching closer.
His lips curled upward.
“Vivi became my ally, you know? She helped me in ways I didn’t know I needed. And Nash and Drew and Charlotte … it was the ultimate comfort to have such friends.”
“I’m sure,” he whispered.
“Tell me you’re okay,” I pleaded. My fingers tingled as they lightly touched his chest.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I just want you to know that—” I stopped. Words failed me. My pulse vaguely throbbed behind my eyes and I blinked as if my lids were too heavy. I wanted to tell him it would be okay. They’d be friends, brothers again. But I didn’t know that. Did I?
I suppose I was asking for it.
The smell is musty, as if time had been locked in and left to decay. Piles of boxes and a few pieces of wardrobe furniture are scattered throughout the space. Grey stands on the cement floor with his arms crossed over his chest, feet spread apart. He looks stressed, sad.
“He sent it all to me,” he says. “Every last scrap of my stuff. He didn’t want it taking up any room in his new office. So instead of just throwing it out, he thought I’d enjoy all the stuff I left behind. I didn’t want it either.”
“So how did you get it back here?” Drew’s voice sounds hurt and angry as he steps over to peek inside a box to Grey’s left.
Grey turns and paces in the opposite direction. “Military helped me organize the shipment.”
Silence fills the room like a dense mushroom cloud.
“Dad said you came to get it, and that’s when you said goodbye.”
“He’s not my dad,” Grey snaps and spins around to face him. He seems contrite. His tone becomes softer and shamed. “I already said goodbye.”
I opened my eyes to Grey’s, panicked and dark, as he cradled me in his lap. His touch was soft as he smoothed my hair off my face.
“What the fuck just happened?”
I touched my head, the throbbing sensation heavier now
.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I told you I have premonitions,” I said quietly. “That’s what happens when I have one. Then I get a headache and sometimes feel dizzy or nauseous.”
“Jesus.”
“I don’t see Jesus. It’s not a religious experience.”
He chuckled. “Well it looked like a possession. Or at least maybe a tonic seizure.”
“What the hell is that? A cocktail?”
“No,” he said, laughing.
“I don’t shake,” I said, glowering.
He shook his head. “Tonic seizures are when all your muscles go rigid.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, no. I don’t always freeze up like that, but they checked me for those in the hospital. A few times.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, just a few times.”
I narrowed my eyes at his sarcasm. “I had quite a few while hanging out at the hospital for as long as I was.”
He shrugged. “I see you’re pretty comfortable with these … visions?”
The label came out somewhat condescending through tight lips and underneath raised eyebrows, and I tried to deflect the pang of hurt. I knew he was struggling to accept it as fact, but that didn’t make it sting any less. I hadn’t been totally comfortable with them to start, so I had to remember that I couldn’t expect him to immediately assimilate.
“I prefer to call them ‘previews.’” I turned my head and kissed his stomach. “And they usually revolve around you.”
His eyebrows pulled together as if by a drawstring. That statement had clearly made him uncomfortable, if not suspicious. He wanted to ask what I saw, but didn’t.
“It’s okay to be curious. I was going to tell you anyway. I saw you and Drew talking about all the stuff that your—um, your un-dad sent you.”
If it was possible to see him pale in this light, I did.
“What else?”
I moved next to him so we could settle back down. He didn’t move until I coaxed him down next to me. I stayed very close with my head on his pillow.
“A bunch of boxes and a few pieces of old furniture? A royal blue chair with a high back, I could see. Seemed like a garage or something.” I watched him flip onto his back and sigh as if to scream. “Does it sound familiar?”
His profile and the shadows around it nodded. “Who told you about this?”
I poked him in the shoulder. “No one told me, you asshole,” I said, unavoidably offended. “I literally just saw it. If it doesn’t sound familiar, that’s fine. It’s just what I see.”
As he rubbed the spot on his collarbone, he eyed me carefully. Calculating. He still didn’t trust me fully and I had to admit to myself that it was tough to accept.
“Okay. I could be having psychotic delusions, for all you know, but here’s the thing. I’ve also been checked by an entire team of psychiatrists and psychologists, a.k.a. experts on crazy, and I’ve been deemed sane!” I argued, flopping onto my back and crossing my arms. It was a bit of a tantrum, but I got tired of the eggshells I had to walk on.
Quiet took over, the bland sounds of the city outside the windows and the soft rush of air conditioning the only response to my minor tirade. I felt embarrassment prickle at my cheeks and sighed. “Sorry. I—”
“No. Don’t be,” he said finally. His tone was strained, but when I turned to look at his face, he looked guilty. “The garage you saw is probably my storage unit in Queens. There is an old blue chair in it.”
I wasn’t sure if he was mad because I was possibly right, or if it just made him sad.
“You have stuff there?”
He nodded. “That’s it?” he asked, sounding a bit more relaxed.
“It was short. Just before I opened my eyes, he insinuated you never said goodbye to him … because he wasn’t there or something?”
He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, and a low groan emanated from his throat. The muscles under his skin vibrated, overly taut with a surge of tension.
“Grey,” I said softly. I lightly placed a hand on his bicep. To my relief, he didn’t startle, but his fist clenched. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about this right now.”
“Really? We can only seem to avoid this shit for minutes at a time,” he spat. His arms dropped to his sides as if to erect a barbed wire fence between us. “Why are we even—”
I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but I wouldn’t give him an excuse to run from me again. “You can’t leave again.”
He made a pained expression. “I agreed to stay tonight,” he answered cryptically.
I exhaled harshly. “Don’t do me any favors. It’s not a contract.”
His eyes went wide and filled with a fear I didn’t understand. “I know,” he sputtered. “I,” he began, pausing to suck in a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen my brother in ten years and … I don’t know how to wrap my head around it all.”
I snatched his hand from his side and moved his entire arm up so I could sneak beneath it. I kissed the spot above his heart.
“You’re going to have to deal with them. One way or another. But doesn’t it help to know that”—I gulped, my heart in my throat—“I am on your side?”
He watched me, blinked hard, and kissed my forehead. “More than you could ever know.”
I released a breath, a surprise tear blinking off my lashes, and he softly wiped it away with his thumb. I shifted to find a spot on his shoulder to settle, throwing my leg over his. I reveled in the comfort of his skin against mine and kissed him behind his ear.
“Then let’s just be,” I whispered. “When we talk, we’ll only talk about us as we are now. Not then, not via people we know, or what someone told us. Okay?”
He answered with a squeeze. I playfully bit his neck and relaxed into him. He laughed and he relaxed some, too.
I hated that this was so delicate. Building a relationship under such strange conditions seemed impossible at moments like this—not that there was another choice. Not for me, certainly. We were a given as far as I was concerned. But we could not exist separately from the world and survive. A bubble is no shield from family warfare.
Chapter Eighteen
Grey
Awake
Last time I slept here, it was an accident. Actually, it had felt like a goddamn miracle. I hadn’t slept that well in years. That fact alone had disturbed me. There were too many moments where my guard had been completely down. That had only fueled the drive to leave as I did.
This time, I was wide-awake and hyperaware. Restful sleep was unlikely. I hadn’t even figured out what the fuck I was playing at, spending time with her. Was I just going to jerk her around? It wasn’t as if I’d had much luck resisting her.
It was insanely frustrating being at the mercy of her influence. Not only did it make me seriously uncomfortable, it made me more of a dick.
I lay there with her wrapped around me for the better part of an hour. I was reasonably relaxed, but my mind ran in circles while expecting to arrive at a new destination every time.
Eventually, I was able to get out of bed without waking her. I pulled on my jeans and went to the living room. I sat on the couch until I felt as if I might actually fall asleep.
Partly guilty that she might wake and freak out, I considered going back. I’d gone plenty of nights without really sleeping, so I could do it again, but Lucie was a completely new experience. I couldn’t predict shit when it came to her, especially not how I would react.
In the end I made the wrong fucking decision again and fell into a fitful sleep on the sofa.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucie
Cold
I stared at the empty spot in my bed, unwilling to believe he would abandon me a second time after everything we talked about. I was reasonably sure I didn’t need to check into an asylum. Yet.
Tempering the mild panic in my chest, I put on my robe against the chill on my skin and walked
somewhat calmly out of my bedroom. As soon as I saw Grey on the couch, I nearly cried in relief. The early morning sun ricocheted off the windows across the street, painting a faint glow across my sleeping man. He was beautiful in repose, his face smooth and free of doubt and anger.
I watched him briefly, desperate to stroke his cheek or touch his chest or shoulder, but I admitted to myself that I was afraid as if I were sticking my hand in a bear trap. It didn’t matter, though. He sensed me and his eyes opened immediately.
“Good morning,” I whispered.
“Hi.” His voice was scratchy and deep.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked, timid. Something about him was unreadable, wary.
His eyebrows pinched together. “What?”
“I want to kiss you.”
“I caught that,” he said, sitting up.
I took one step forward but stopped when he cleared his throat. I tightened the belt on my robe. “I just wasn’t sure if … I don’t know. You moved out here, so I’m not entirely sure you want to be kissed.”
He sighed and nodded before he motioned me over. I aimed to sit next to him, but he pulled me onto his lap. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“You were sleeping when I came out here.” And you didn’t really answer my question. Or maybe you did.
He scrubbed his hands over his face, and for whatever reason, I found it extremely hot.
“Eventually I slept, but it took a while and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Okay.”
My expression must have irked him because he made an annoyed face. “I don’t know how I fell asleep here so easily last time. You … you are the anomaly. You make me different.”
Fighting a bit of smugness, I gave him the side-eye.
“Lucie, I don’t share a bed with anyone. Ever.”
“Seriously?” I stared at him, soaking in the gorgeous sight and marveling that he could have been alone for so long. Then again, maybe I had, too. “But, um. Girlfriends? Or, ya know, booty calls?”
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