When I push back the comforter, I notice something different. I’m not wearing my red dress from tonight, but Grey’s black shirt. The familiar scent of him hits me. Cologne, cigarettes, bourbon, dark chocolate. Sweet and tangy and toxic and addicting. I don’t realize I’m smelling it profusely until my phone rings again. Pulling the shirt away from my greedy nose, I drop my smile and lean over the bed. I decline, but notice a cup of tea, two pills, and a note on a green Post-It.
I pick up the note and read it. “I picked your lock to check on you and noticed you were restless, so I gave you my shirt. You were out like a light after I put it on you.” A smile works its way onto my face. I notice something else. Under the pills is a pink Post-It that says Eat me and under the teacup is a yellow Post-It that reads Drink me.
Has he always been so sweet?
I take the painkillers, downing them with my favorite: lavender tea. I drink the entire thing, letting it slowly wake me up a little. But I could still go for a cup of coffee, or a gallon. After staring at the hem of his shirt that drapes over me like a warm, intoxicating blanket for what feels like an hour, I finally get up. I have work in an hour. So, with much hesitance, I walk into the bathroom.
When I turn on the shower-head, the water that comes out is deliciously hot. I look down and frown. I didn’t leave it like this, unfortunately. And then it hits me. Grey must have set the water temperature to be this hot.
He is the sweetest thing on this planet.
Smiling, I take a twenty-minute shower. The steaming water makes my skin pink and raw, but it feels so good. I work out the kinks in my tense muscles and think about all Grey has done for me. After our little squabble last night, I thought he would have left after not getting what he wanted, like he usually does. But he stayed and did all these small things that have made my body warm and heart grow twice its normal size.
What if he already left? And he just did these things as a way of saying goodbye?
My mood immediately falls like a bag of rocks in a sea of sadness.
I get out and get dressed in a black pencil skirt and baby blue top. I curl my hair and pin with a silver pin to one side after twisting a lock. For makeup, I do a little blush and lip gloss and mascara. It’s just work. Not like I’m going anywhere fancy. After spritzing some sweet perfume, I push my stocking-clad feet in a pair of black high heels and push my white shoulder bag on.
Grey is still here, I conclude as I walk down the stairs. I don’t even need to see him to know. For one, there is an Eminem song playing on the overhead speaker. But it’s not even that. I feel an electric charge run up my calves, sparking the back of my neck. I feel him in the air whenever he is around. We could be on opposite sides of the world, and I’d still be able to feel him. There’s a sort of connection between us that I don’t think will ever truly fade away.
I find him doing push-ups in the living room. The glass coffee table is pushed away. He doesn’t seem to notice me, as he is pushing himself up using one hand, the other behind his lower back. He’s shirtless, and sweaty, and more tatted, and I think I’m drooling. This is just such a lovely sight to behold.
As if sensing me through our strong link, he lifts his head and stares into my eyes. He doesn’t stop doing push-ups. I squeeze my legs together and clear my throat. I think I may be getting a little bit worked up, but what person wouldn’t?
“I thought you would have left,” I say in a shaky voice.
He looks me up and down. “Would you have liked me to?”
I do a little head shake. “No…” I pause as he pops onto the balls of his feet. He looks even better standing up. I examine his chest. “Did you get more tattoos?” I ask curiously, stepping toward him.
He huffs out a tired breath. “Yeah. Why? Don’t like ’em?” I hear the smirk in his voice, the amusement as I blush, even though his face is blank for the most part.
“No, I mean. They’re nice.” I am in front of him due to magic unknown to me and examining the fresh new ink. I spot a “Liv” and nearly have a heart attack until I look closer and notice the entire phrase “Live freely.” I frown for some reason, then feel ultra-aware of his eyes staring down at me. My breathing stammers as I look up into his dark eyes that watch me like a sensual predator would.
“Why, um, did you get them?” I ask, my voice smaller than intended.
His gaze is unrelenting, vengeful. “I felt like it.” He shrugs, and I smile. He was always heavy with the “screw the world and normalcy” vibe. He stares at me for a long, torturing while before asking, “Still thinking about getting a tattoo?”
“Huh?” I snap out of my daze.
He lifts a brow and does smirk this time. “You said you wanted a tattoo. Do you still want one?”
“Oh.” I said that so long ago, it feels like forever. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well, if you actually are planning on getting one, I know someone who gives dope tattoos. I can give you her card. She actually did these new ones.”
“Oh,” I say again.
He had a girl tattoo him, while he was shirtless. Why am I imagining stabbing her, whoever she is? The real question is: why am I so mad? We’re barely a couple. We haven’t seen each other in person for two months, and my phone has been radio-silent. What if he really has been seeing another girl? I wouldn’t blame him or them. I mean, just look at him. He’s a god, a sex-god, if I’m being honest.
“Everything all right?” he asks, poking my stomach.
“Um, yeah. I have to go to work,” I tell him, turn on my heels, and pad over to the front door.
“Okay?” He sounds confused. “Bye—”
I slam the door after myself.
***
Is everything okay?
I read Grey’s text message for the hundredth time.
I’m currently standing beside the elevator, waiting for it to arrive, reading this text message. Again. I’ve stared at it time and time again. He’s for sure seen the “READ” tag under the message. But if he asks why I’ve taken so long, I’ll say I saw it once but wasn’t able to answer because of work. But that isn’t the truth.
I’m still worked up over this morning. Still thinking about my stupid, paranoid thought of him seeing other girls. He’s already disclosed that he hasn’t. I don’t believe he would, anyway. He isn’t like that. He’s committed to me, in his own way. He wouldn’t cheat on me or hook up with some random girl. I know that for a fact. I have every amount of trust in him, so why am I acting like a stupid, insecure little girl?
“Stupid,” I mutter to myself as I type a reply.
Yep. Want something to eat on the way back?
I text him.
I’m beginning to text him that I’m going out with coworkers tonight when one of them pops up in front over me. I peer over my phone and smile at him.
“Hey, Justin.” I wave and tuck my phone in my bag.
“’Sup, Liv.” He does his usual charming smile and runs his fingers through his silky blond hair. His deep blue-green eyes glimmer as he looks at me. Sometimes I think he has a crush on me, which makes me out to be a huge target in the office, since he’s the most desirable guy, according to my girlfriends. He’s attractive, sure, but he’s no Grey.
“So are you still going to Joe’s after work?” he asks. Joe’s is a bar a few blocks away from here.
“Yeah. Do you think I should bring cake?” I joke lightly.
He chuckles, and a few women walking by swoon. “Sure, but you have to make it eight feet with a stripper popping out of the top.”
I laugh. “That seems appropriate for the occasion.”
“Totally.” He laughs a little harder, and I do too. A girl walking by nearly faints as his little dimples makes an appearance.
The elevator makes a dinging noise, and the doors part. People come out of it, and I get on.
“I’ll see you there soon,” I tell him, giving him a small wave.
He smiles that charming smile, gives me a small wave. “See you
soon, Olivia.”
***
The minute I step off the elevator, I take off my heels. Exhaustion runs its course in my muddled brain, but I’ve already made a commitment and said I’d be there, so I can’t cancel. And, anyway, I’ll have a good time. What’s wrong with that? A few drinks will surely wake me right up.
High heels in hand, I unlock the door and step inside. I place my heels on the shoe rack, noticing Grey’s boots are still here. I’m a little shocked that he’s still here. After I took literally all day to reply to him, and he didn’t respond, I thought he would have thought I was ignoring him and would leave. Not that I want him to. I want him to stay. But I also want other things…
And then I smell it.
The food.
Curious and confused, I step into the open living room. I gasp. There’s an array of food on the glass dining table. But it smells so good. He couldn’t have cooked all of this. Grey steps out of the kitchen, bringing a chocolate cake to the table. He places it in the middle, completing the look.
“Grey?” I say.
He turns around, smiles softly, nervously. “You look tired.”
I crack a smile. “Thanks.” I look at the food and walk closer. He stands up and watches me with softer eyes than the hard, intense eyes from this morning. “What’s all of this?”
He glances at the table like it’s the first time he’s seeing it too, then he looks back at me, cheeks just the slightest pink. “Oh. I, uh, thought I could cook some things for you. To, you know, say sorry for how much of a douche I was acting when I got here.”
“Really?” I try not to sound shocked but fail.
He glances at the food, then gives me a shrug. “Yeah.” He pauses when I raise a questioning brow. He rolls his eyes and adds, “I mean, I ordered it all. So I technically didn’t cook any of it. But I gave a pretty damn good tip, so I may as well have cooked it.”
I laugh at his technicalities and walk over to him. “I love it. Thank you.” I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. My body sinks into his chest, and I take a subtle whiff of him. I feel smaller in his arms; he really has been working out. It feels like forever since I was last in his arms, simply hugging him. I close my eyes at some point, and he’s hugging me back, seemingly familiarizing himself with me like I am with him.
“It’s no problem at all, prin—Liv.” He clears his throat, pulls back.
I frown and take his hand before I can stop myself. He looks confused but attentive. “You can call me princess. I mean…” I begin to drop his hand, blushing, but he tugs me closer, grips a little harder. I smile up at him. “We still are a couple, right?”
I hold my breath, nervous for the answer.
“Yes. Of course. I mean you did promise me—” he says, smiling.
“Always and forever,” I say, smiling too, but wider. “I remember…”
***
Hours later, we’re stuffed with delicious food and desert, laughing at nothing. I feel so happy, so content. I never want to leave this moment with him. I sip my second glass of red wine, staring at him as he goes on and on about how high his rank in the UFC is growing with each fight he dominates. He only lost one fight, but he claims it was because he was too busy thinking of me. I felt guilty, but he assured me he needed to hold himself back from killing his opponent because he was so damn good, as he put it. I smiled shyly, and we kept talking.
I’m telling him about what the chancellor of NYU told me about the high possibility of me graduating next year if I keep it up when my phone buzzes. I ignore it the first time and we’re laughing and I’m holding his arm, his eyes are glistening, and my cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. But then it buzzes for the second time, and I can’t ignore the look in his eyes telling me to answer it.
Sighing, I pull it out and see it’s Justin calling. Grey peeks over at my phone, so I quickly decline and shoot him a text telling him I’m on my way.
“Who’s Justin?” Grey asks, setting his empty wine glass down. His eyes are downcast. I sense anger and annoyance in his voice, but he’s doing a great job of keeping it hidden from his face as he looks me in the eyes.
I gape for words and tell him, “Just a friend from work.”
Here’s the part where he accuses me of seeing him, but it doesn’t happen. And I am pleasantly surprised.
“Why was he calling?” he asks. Still, the annoyance for interrupting our great moment is there.
“Oh. He and I and other friends from work are supposed to be going out tonight.”
“For?”
“To celebrate something,” I say and wave a hand. “It’s just a few drinks. But I’ll be back in an hour or two.”
“Okay,” he says, pushing to his feet.
I frown and watch him take our empty plates and glasses to the sink.
“Okay?” I question. I was sort of expecting him to lash out. Not that I wanted it to happen, I’m just surprised, is all.
“Yes. Okay. I’ll be here when you get back.” He smiles, kisses my cheek, then proceeds to clean up the table.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“To Jenny’s promotion!” Fiona, a friend from work, exclaims, shot raised in the air.
“To Jenny’s promotion!” we reply in an equally bashful tone, clinking our glasses together. Laughing, we throw our shots down our throats.
I cough a little. “I will never get used to that,” I utter to no one in particular.
“Ditto,” Jenny agrees.
I smile at her. “Congratulations on the promotion, Jenny. I know you worked your butt off for it,” I tell her earnestly.
Her brown eyes glimmer under the bar’s horrible lighting, her lipstick smudged from a hard day’s work. She widens her grin.
“Thank you, Olivia,” she says, tugging on her black hair like she does when she’s excited. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a psychologist. It feels like just yesterday when I was giving my dolls therapy sessions.” She laughs, and I do too.
Everyone is smiling, getting to unwind after a long day of working, or rather, interning. Even I am grinning so hard my cheeks feel heavy and stretched to the maximum. I feel warm despite it snowing outside of these thin bar walls.
I can vividly remember when I first walked into the glass building where I work. The interior was even more intimidating than the exterior. Stern faces were everywhere, black and white decor, a pin-straight chandelier I didn’t even think existed—everything screamed “RUN!” But I got through the first day, meeting all of these wonderful people, who wanted the same thing as me: to help others.
I was very nervous to basically start over from scratch. But look at me now, grabbing a few drinks with nice people and enjoying myself after interning for an elite, powerful corporation. This is the Liv I like.
An hour and a half passes with mindless chatter and a lot of laughing.
“Enjoying yourself?” Justin asks, leaning against the counter.
“Thoroughly,” I reply, taking a sip of my gin and tonic.
“We were thinking of going bowling afterward. You up for it?” he asks, blue-green eyes watching me intently, scouring my face.
Grey’s blank face and his “okay” flashes across my mind. I suddenly feel very bad just leaving him back at my place after he did something so sweet and unexpected. He’s been showing me why I love him so much, yet here I am drinking and having fun without him.
Don’t think like that. You are enjoying yourself. Don’t think you have to be with him because he’s sad. Think of yourself, my subconscious sneers.
But he ordered food and wine and we laughed, and I had a really good time. I could have stayed with him tonight, maybe watched a movie or two. A new movie came out that I thought was hilarious and wanted to show him. I watched it in the theatre with a few friends and couldn’t stop laughing.
I instantly thought of Grey and I watching 21 Jump Street, and how I couldn’t stop laughing at the crude jokes I grew used to because of him, and how he loved to
tickle me to make me laugh more, and how I always caught him staring at me with so much love, even my heart ached.
“I’m guessing that smile is a yes?” Justin says with a smile of his own.
I shake my head, thinking of Grey’s smile and the warm feeling that floods me when I stare as he does. “No. I have to get home. But maybe a next time?”
“Sure, yeah.” He ruffles his full head of hair, sounding kind of disappointed. I feel bad, ignoring the women giving me glares while the others swoon.
“Me and a few friends are going ice skating tomorrow night. Would you like to come?” I offer him. I would feel horrible if I left him hanging like this. Despite his obvious crush on me for whatever reason, he is a really good guy.
His eyes light up and he nods, stuffing his hands in his pants pocket. “I’d love that. I’ve actually never been,” he says, shocking me.
“Really?” I turn to him after paying my tab.
“Yeah.” I jump off the stool, and he laughs at the long way down. “Stop.” I nudge him with a blush, and we walk outside. I let out a shiver and tuck my hands in my coat pocket. “I’ve been skating at least a million times. Practically a master at it. How have you not gone at least once?”
He shrugs. “It’s just not my thing,” he says, and I nod. “But maybe you can, I don’t know…show me a few moves?” He moves closer to me as we walk. I smile politely and take a step to the side. He either notices and doesn’t mind, or doesn’t at all, because he’s smiling at me, all tooth and no offense.
“I don’t know.” I sigh. “I’d have to charge you for my expertise,” I tease, and he laughs loudly.
“Deal,” he says, nodding. “Want me to walk you home?” he asks, squinting his eyes as if it will give him the ability to see through the dark.
“Um…” I look ahead at the dark streets. Then look back at him and nod appreciatively. “I’d love that. Thank you very much.” I didn’t drive because it’d be hard to find parking. It’s next to impossible to find parking in the city. There are way too many vehicles in the city already; I didn’t want to add mine to the mix this time. Plus, I live only fifteen minutes from here. I got here in record time.
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