Grey_The Encounter

by Allison White

  He settles down and sits next to me, ruffling out his short, dark hair with a shy smile, then holds out a hand.

  “Friends?” he asks, his voice low and my heart loud.

  I take his hand in mine and falter with my words, feeling the usual spark of heat rush through with my body. “Friends,” I confirm.

  Something short of an electric wave passes between us. His lips are tugged up, as if what we just said was a joke and we both knew it. I glance down and shove at his chest.

  “What?” He laughs.

  “You know what,” I tell him.

  He holds up his hands with the same expression from a while ago. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  A smug look passes over his face, and I narrow my eyes just slightly, allowing the flutter in my chest when he glides his rough palm along my softer one.

  “How’s the patient?” A man wearing a white lab coat and scrubs with graying hair suddenly walks into the room. I jump back in surprise. My cheeks burn with heat as Grey winks at me. I kick his butt, and he grabs my ankles and pulls me closer, slinging an arm around me. I roll my eyes at him but place my legs across his lap. “Olivia Westerfield?” he questions, pointing at me. I’m sure he knows exactly who I am and is just being polite.

  “That’s me.”

  “I’m Dr. Adams,” he introduces, offering me a warm smile. I smile back. “Well, looks like college is stressing you out already. It tends to happen to new students, but this—” He looks down at the clipboard in his hand and bounces his brows in emphasis. “This is a tad more extreme.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Your blood pressure is high, higher than a kid your age should be,” he says.

  I take a deep gulp and blink a few times, thinking. “I don’t know how…I’ve just been studying. Literally.” I see how that could rise my blood pressure sky high. And I have been stressing a lot about the quizzes I’ve had this week. Especially Psychology.

  “It’s good that you’re so dedicated, but maybe slow down?” he suggests. I sheepishly nod and play with my thumbs. I expect Grey to make fun of my intense studying that made me physically sick, but he doesn’t.

  In fact, he comforts me by offering me a genuine ghost smile and rubs my thigh. My skin prickles. I wonder what his touch can do elsewhere…

  “Was that what made her faint?” Grey gently nudges my shoulder, and I shake away the ridiculous thought and pay attention to Dr. Adams.

  “High levels of dehydration and starvation,” he answers and looks at me for a while. “When’s the last time you ate or drank?”

  “A…while,” I say, ashamed. I realize I took my studying a little too far, but I never imagined it would put me here—in a hospital bed.

  He nods while letting out a tired breath. “Your body was breaking down. We had to get a lot of nutrition back in you as quickly as possible. While you were unconscious, we put a tube down your throat and fed you what your body desperately needed. That explains the pain you’re probably feeling in your throat.”

  I am frozen, tears forming in my eyes.

  “You may leave today; here are the discharge papers.” He hands Grey the papers, and he accepts them with an unreadable expression. I look away and listen to the doctor. “Just take it easy. College may be important, but it isn’t something to risk your life over.”

  I look up to find him tipping his head toward me, silently warning me. I nod with a tight smile. He backs away and leaves the room. The second the door clicks closed, so does my throat. I don’t know what to say.

  “I’m going to kill her,” Grey says after a long pause.

  I look up from the pristine bedsheets and frown. “Who?”

  He shifts his eyes to me. I almost back away from the scolding fire sizzling in them. “Your fucking mother, who else?” He rolls his eyes and stands, fisting his hair. “I knew she was crazy. I could sense it the minute I saw her. But this?” He gestures to me and scoffs. “This is absolutely fucking insane.”

  “Don’t speak about my mother that way,” I warn him. He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “How can I not? She practically put you in this bed!” He turns away from me.

  “I put myself here.”

  He wheels around and arches his eyebrows. “Oh, really?” When I slowly nod, he curses under his breath before grabbing my wrist. I fight to snatch them out of his tight hold, but he’s too strong.

  “Then what are these marks doing here?” I get ready to accuse him of losing his mind, but then my eyes land on my left wrist. Just beyond the silver charm bracelet are fading red semi-circles. They’re just the right size to be made from my nails…

  “I swear I didn’t know I was making them.” My voice is soft as realization hits me. When I am anxious or frustrated, I play with my bracelet. I guess I experienced both emotions and scratched a little harder than I intended. “It wasn’t on purpose. You have to believe me.”

  “I do, but…your mother.” He takes a deep breath to obviously calm himself down. “Was she the cause of all this?”

  “No, of course not,” I quickly say. “She only reminded me how important hard work is.”

  “Meaning she forced you to study yourself to near-death?” He laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you understand how insane she is? But it isn’t all her fault. You’re too gullible and afraid to defy her, so you would do just about anything she told you—no—commanded.”

  “I am not afraid of her!” I object. She may terrify me sometimes, but she only has good intentions.

  He stares at me. “If you aren’t so afraid of her, then shall we do this?”

  “Do what?” I don’t like the way his mood has suddenly shifted from flustered to tranquil so suddenly.

  “Call her.” He nods at me with a twitch of his lips. “Tell her that we’re friends again. Let’s see what she has to say. I can only imagine the damage you’d do because of her poisonous words.” He says friends with a sense of irony I don’t understand.

  I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. He called my bluff. But he doesn’t stop there. He walks over while pulling my phone out from his back pocket.

  “Why do you have my phone?”

  “It dropped when you fainted, because your stress levels went through the roof.” He raises a brow and hands it to me, sitting down next to me. When I don’t take it, he rolls his eyes, takes my hand, and forces me to hold it. I retreat my hand and hold it to my chest as if I touched fire. He eyes me with a shake of his head. “That’s what I thought.” He tosses the phone to me, and I let out a sigh and catch it.

  “Can we just…keep this as our secret?” I offer, curving back a loose hair strand behind my ear.

  “Keep what as our secret?” He arches his eyebrows, but I know he knows exactly what I mean. The tug of his lips tells me so. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been one to defy my mother. Ever. But something about him makes it hard to not…be with him. Even if we aren’t friends, I just want to be able to soak up his cute laughter and obnoxious comments. He’s like a drug. You know it’s bad for you…but it has a hold over you and keeps you coming back for more.

  “Us, as—you know—friends?”

  “I don’t do friends,” he says. “Fuck friends, maybe, but just friends? Eh?” He shrugs, and I blush at his colorful words and kick his thigh. He grabs my foot and pulls me to him. I stop the chuckle short of my lips and instead suck in a long strip of air.

  I watch his eyes follow my busy lips as I slide my tongue across the cracked surfaces. The image of him tugging the bottom with his teeth flashes through my head.

  “Fine,” he says gruffly. I brush his cheek with a smile before I can stop myself. He looks into my eyes and suddenly grabs my wrist. I flinch, but he breaks out into a grin and leans his head into my palm with a dangerous glint to his eyes. But it didn’t scare me off. He can’t scare me off. I’m in too deep to do such a foolish thing.

  “Friends it is
,” I say with a smile he regards with his own, but his spells a different tune than mine. His spell a word I am wary of, but at the same time anticipating with open arms: danger.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  My body feels like it is on fire, but the flames graze my skin and puts a smile on my face. I snuggle into the heat and recollect yesterday’s events.

  The minute we left the hospital, Grey took me to a fast-food place and practically forced me to eat a greasy burger. But since I fought so hard with him, he ended up watching me with a scowl as I delightfully chowed on fresh, hot fries. After that, he took me to my dorm. There, Mason bombarded me with a hug, then awkwardly thanked Grey for taking me to and from the hospital with that weird energy of hate sizzling between them—I have got to ask him about that—and I fell asleep but woke up minutes later, the dream too intense. It had me drenched in sweat. Being the apparently great friend he is, Grey wrapped me in his arms and laid back with me until I drifted off into a comfortable slumber.

  The heat becomes too much. I try pulling his arms off my body, but his grip is like steel. Letting out a breath of defeat, I maneuver myself around until I am facing a sleeping Grey. I smile at how cute he looks. His full lips are parted, wispy snores huffing out. I scrunch up my nose at the distinct smell of cigarettes, greasy burger remains, and oranges that emit from his opened mouth. I wiggle myself up until my eyes are level with his.

  I take my time to examine his complex but breath-taking features. He owns a pair of thick, long eyelashes. His eyebrows are strung together as if he’s in deep concentration while dreaming. At the top of his left, dark, furry eyebrow is a white scar about two inches long, while on his right cheek there is another slashed scar but a few inches longer.

  I find myself tracing the scar on his cheek before I can stop myself. He’s just too imperfectly perfect. Somehow, I think the scars strengthen his attractive appeal. They show a story of pain and violence but also danger and experience. Not an experience I’d want to have, but it’s his own. No one else can have it. It’s his to keep. I wonder why he really fights. He says it’s all he knows, that it’s just always been that way. But I doubt it. There’s a deeper meaning behind it, and I intend to find out what that is.

  Without any warning, his eyes peel open and meet mine. I suck in a staggering breath, stopping my curious hand’s movement. His eyes are the most unique eyes I think I have ever seen. They are so black, it’s almost like he can absorb me faster and make my heart lose control all at the same time. His dark lashes pull down for a brief second before he lazily curls his lips up. Ah, first frustrating smirk of the day. It’s no wonder this is how he starts his days.

  “G’morning, Princess.” He suddenly drops his smile and gently pushes against my shoulder.

  “Well, good morning to you too. Rude.” I start to get up, since he can’t stand to be next to me all of a sudden.

  “What are you doing, weirdo?” He pulls me back down and props himself up on his elbow, ruffling out his bedhead, while the other runs a hand across my exposed stomach under my gray Penn State shirt.

  “You were just crushing my arm.” Oh. I knew that. My cheeks blush as I whisper an apology. He waves it off and smiles down at me with a look that emphasizes my wish to be able to read his mind. I wonder what he is thinking right now…

  A smile forms on my lips but drops when I feel my stomach clench as he glides his rough but firm hand across my waist, tugging me closer. His warm breath tickles my nose, and I make an unidentifiable sound, laying my hand on his bare chest.

  “Friends, remember?” I lift a questioning brow. He holds my gaze, challenging me to back down, rubbing his thumb across my hip bone. A breath shudders against my parted lips, but I close them and arch my brow again. He rolls his eyes, accepting defeat with a loud groan.

  I let laughter slip out before pushing forward and clamping his mouth with my hand. His eyes widen, and I feel his mouth curl into one of his devious smirks. He bites my palm, and I fall back onto the bed with a chuckle as he winks at me.

  “Fine,” he huffs out, poking my stomach. He’s acting like a child, but I find it adorable.

  I open my mouth to quip back a response, but the shrilling sound of my phone slices through my words. I turn around and lean over to see the faded blue phone through my khaki pants. I feel my throat close.

  What if it’s my mother calling to chew my head off? Maybe she sensed my disobedience…

  With a heavy sigh, I bend over to take it out of the pocket. But a pair of arms wrap around my waist, pulling me away from the phone, pushing me onto my back.

  “What are you—?” I begin to say, but Grey’s fingers stop me mid-sentence, with loud shrieks and laughter. His fingers tickle my sides, causing me to kick my legs in an attempt to push him off. But he quickly lifts his knees while pulling mine between his own and leaning down, locking me under his hard body.

  I arch my back and shake my head, my curly hair flying everywhere. The sensation is all too much, and I scream and giggle with my might. “S-stop! Grey!”

  “Don’t get it,” he demands.

  “Why—not?” I say through fits of shrieks and laughter. I hope we’re not waking anyone. That’d be really rude. But if anything, I’d blame it on Grey. He’s the one making me scream like this.

  “Because I don’t want you to,” he says. My eyes enlarge, and I shriek when he suddenly lifts himself up and attaches his hands to my wrists, sitting against the wall, holding me captive.

  “Grey, this is ridiculous!” I whine and bring my head back childishly, but he yanks me back up. I am so surprised by the sudden force; my face nearly smashes with his. More so our lips. I am suddenly aware of how little both of us are wearing. And then it hits me, though it should have hit me a long time ago. I am on a bed, with a boy, who is only wearing low-riding Levi’s jeans, while I am dressed clad in shirt and shorts, and we’re alone. This has never happened to me before; I don’t know what to do. But the persistent ringing behind me rips me out of this situation before I can delve any deeper.

  I lean in closer, watching with intrigue and curiosity as his dark eyes stare at my lips. He stares at them like he wants them. On his. That makes me hot all over. And I want him to do it. To bring ours together. I want to taste what his lips are made of. Maybe spice? Honey? Mint? Chocolate? All of them? Oh, how delicious that’d taste—

  “What are you thinking right now?” he asks, his voice deep like an abyss and soft like cotton candy.

  “What your lips taste like…” I answer, my voice raspier than I intended. I’m not lying.

  I can practically hear him curse in his mind. His hands relax and instead play with the ends of my naturally curly hair. I tilt my head, exposing my neck. I don’t know how I know how to seduce him, but I don’t think about it and run with it. When I have him just where I want him, face leaning in to mine, I take his signature smirk and paste it onto my lips.

  “Too bad, we’re only friends.” I bop his nose before turning around and scrambling to my feet. I grab the pants and rush over to Julia’s bed.

  “Tease!” he shouts, frowning like a child.

  “Friend!” I shout back, sticking my tongue out. He narrows his eyes while crossing his arms. I wink at him before sliding my thumb across the screen and leaning against the wall, facing him with a devious smile. “Why, hello?” I answer in a chirpy tone. He gives me the finger, and I raise my hand over my mouth to stop the laugh on my tongue.

  “Olivia? This is your mother.” My smile drops, and I feel my hand tremble.

  “Mother, hello.” I catch Grey’s darkened expression and stand, my knees wobbly.

  “Why did I receive a call from the hospital about you being sick?” she asks, venom in her voice. I flinch and press my phone between my shoulder and cheek, so I can play with my charm bracelet.

  I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for asking, I sarcastically say in my thoughts.

  “I fainted yesterday due to lack of nutrition and dehydration and stress�
��”

  “Sounds really theatrical. That wouldn’t have happened if you had been taking your iron pills.” How can she possibly think this is my fault?

  “But, Mother, I was ill from all the studying you had me do.”

  “Do not blame me for your carelessness.”

  “I wasn’t being careless, I was—” The phone is snatched away from me before I can finish my sentence. Grey hovers over me with a wicked smile as he waves the phone up high. “What are you doing? Give that back. I was speaking to my mother.” I stand and jump, stretching my arms out high, but he’s too tall for me to reach the phone.

  “That’s exactly why I had to take it away,” he says.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your mother stressed you out so much, you ended up in the hospital.” When he says it like that, it sounds terrible. I turn away from him. I hear him sigh and take a step closer to me. “And she wants to blame you for that? Fuck that. She should be pointing the finger at herself. Hell! I should show her my finger.” I turn my head to find him scowling at me.

  “She didn’t mean to, and how did you hear that part?”

  “She barks like a pit bull,” he says with a smile. I laugh, though I didn’t mean to. He’s still looking at me with mischief flashing across his eyes. A single glint that makes me wary, and he hasn’t even spoken a word.

  “Let me take you out,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. That was unexpected.

  “To where? Friend town?” I tease, squinting my eyes while a smile washes over my mouth.

  He pulls his mouth to the side. “You don’t need to put the word friend in every sentence, you know?”

  “Just making sure. I have to drill it in your head, or you might twist what this actually is in your favor.”

  He rolls his eyes and takes another step forward; I take one back. He lets out a loud sigh that makes me cringe. “If we’re going to be friends, you’re going to have to be more comfortable around me.”

  “And you’re going to have to stop breathing down my neck and unhand my phone.” I glance up at the phone that is still in the air. He makes a humming noise and tilts his head side to side.