She stops from biting her lip and croaks, “I tried calling and texting. W-why didn’t you answer?” Her voice is thick with emotion, and it sounds like she’s been crying. But why would she be crying? Did someone hurt her? I will literally kill any fucker who hurt her. Shit! Do I need to start chaining her to the bed when I’m gone? ’Cause I will if it keeps her safe. I hang with some very bad people, people who have no morals, who aren’t afraid to hurt the girl I love.
“Did something happen to you?” I take another step, but this time she isn’t fast enough to move away. I caress her cheek with my hand but stop when I realize there’s a bit of blood on the glove I am still wearing.
She notices and whimpers, taking a step back. “You didn’t…y-you wouldn’t—”
“What are you going on about?” I shrug, truly not understanding what’s going on.
“You promised you would be safe! Y-you promised!” she screams and begins crying.
“What are you talking about?” I raise my hands defensively, shaking my head. She shakes her head, and I step forward to comfort her, whatever she’s going through, but she takes another step back and lands with her back against the wall. “Liv—”
“The gun is gone, Grey!” she shouts, and I widen my eyes.
She thinks I took it to hurt someone…
“It isn’t like that—” I begin to defend myself, but she pushes me away with her hands on my chest.
“You promised me, Grey! Do your promises not mean anything?” She is crying tenfold now, eyes bloodshot and voice shaking. I push through her tiny hands and pull her into my chest. She fights and screams and cries. I just shush her and stroke her hair and gently rock back and forth. I bend down and press my lips to her forehead. Finally, she grows limp in my arms and lets me talk.
“I didn’t use it or anything,” I tell her, and she stays silent, except for her sniffles and soft cries. “I gave it back to Dean because I knew how uncomfortable it made you. I really was fighting like I said I would be.”
“B-but, the blood…” Her voice is rocky, and my heart breaks at the sound. I kiss her hair and sigh.
“I showed none of my opponents mercy. I do that a lot.” I pause and pull back, cupping her face and brushing away tears, falling into her sparkling oceans of eyes. “But if it scares you too much…if I scare you too much…” I reluctantly pull my hands away, and she whines and pushes her face into my chest, wrapping her arms around me.
“Don’t go anywhere,” she whispers.
I smile and feel my body come alive under her touch. I kiss her head again and mumble as I squeeze her a little and rock us side to side. “Never…me tienes princesa.” (You have me, princess.)
***
Some hours later I awake to the most obnoxious sound of an alarm. I instantly know it’s Liv’s because I don’t fuck with alarms, nor have I ever set one in my life. I mean, what’s the point of it when it cuts your sleep off and just gets you pissed before the day even starts? Speaking of which, why the fuck does she have an alarm anyway? Is she going somewhere she didn’t tell me about?
“Sorry.” She comes rushing through the door a few seconds after I begrudgingly sit up in bed.
“What the fuck was that for?” I grumble, rubbing my tired eyes and letting out an exhausted yawn. I side-glare at her as I scratch my stomach lazily. She laughs at me before crawling onto the bed after she shuts the thing off, looking sexier than ever. Dressed only in one of my black shirts, maybe the one I took off last night before falling into bed next to her, hair messy and lips puffy from the number of assuring kisses I gave her before falling asleep.
“I had a therapy session today,” she sighs and falls onto my lap, straddling me, hands playing with the ends of my hair. “But after what went down between my mother and her mind-state…I just don’t see the point anymore. She was forcing me to go in the first place. And now…” She smiles and tugs a little at my hair; I crook a smile at her. She tilts her head and breathes, “Now I don’t have to listen to her anymore.”
I frown because I have ruined her relationship with her mother. And it isn’t the first time. Mine with my mother is tarnished forever. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive her. But Liv’s is salvageable. Not now, of course. In a few months, maybe even years, just until it hits her mother that her daughter is a woman and not a child who can make her own life decisions.
“What’s wrong?” Liv asks, her voice small.
I shrug and rub her waist. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She laughs a little and sucks on her bottom lip.
I meet her searching eyes and shrug again, feeling a little guilty. “For causing all of that between your mother and you.”
“You didn’t cause that, Grey,” she says, and I shake my head adamantly.
“I did, and I’m sorry I can’t be what you need.” My voice wavers, so I clear my throat and avoid her eyes. “I don’t mean to worry you about whether or not I’ve shot someone. I just want to love you, but I can’t do that correctly. How do you even care about me without fearing me?”
She wraps her arms around me and kisses the crook of my neck. “Don’t you ever think like that. I love you more than you will ever know.” She pulls back, tears streaming down her cheeks. I wipe them away, and she shakes her head. “I only worry about you because I love and care about you. Why don’t you get that? I would never fear you…I could only fear how much I love you. Because sometimes it drives me to the point of insanity.” She smiles so brightly I have to squint my eyes, and she laughs that cute smile of hers where her cheeks grow red and that tiny little dimple rests on her cheeks. “But it is definitely worth it in the end. Grey, loving you is worth everything…”
I suck with words, so I respond with my lips. I pull her forward and tell her with a passion-filled kiss how much I love her and will always love her. I whisper irrevocable and undying love in my native tongue. I caress her cheeks with promises to be there for her for whatever she needs and to protect her with my life. I pin her to the bed and spread her legs open with a string of curses just to show her what she does to me.
She moans when I pull back and lick her bottom lip.
“I love you, Olivia Westerfield,” I tell her, resting on my elbows and admiring her flushed cheeks and blown-out blue eyes. “There aren’t enough words in the world for me to explain. So just remember that.”
She smiles widely and nods. “There’s no way I can forget it.”
I laugh, and it hits me square in the heart: I want this girl, officially. I want her to be mine, and I don’t want anyone else to ever have the chance of taking her from me. I let that happen once before because I was such a blind, prideful fool. But I’d be damned to let it happen again.
“What would you and that therapist talk about?” I ask her, and her smile drops.
She shrugs and writhes a bit under me. “How I am still, or was, hung up over you. How my love for you was weighing me down…” She bites her lip, guilty. But I get it. I was still hung up over her too. And my love for her could bring down the world if I let it.
“How would she respond?” I rub her hips, and she bites back a blush, but I still see the redness and the baby dimple.
“Something along the lines of ‘You should learn to move on and look toward a brighter future…’”
“Well, I say fuck that.” I grip her hips, and she gasps but grins. “Go for what you want. I am…do…you?” I shrug, and she tilts her head.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at…” Her eyebrows stitch together in confusion.
Fuck! I told you, I am horrible with words.
I would tug at my lip contemplatively if my hands could stop holding her—never.
“Like that Ryan Goose guy said, we should know what we want and take it.” Does that sound any fucking better?
Her puzzled features give me my answer. “You mean Ryan Gosling?”
“Sure, yeah, him.” Sorry, I don’t know the actors of modern-day life. The only TV
I watch is the UFC channel.
“Wait, when did he say that?” She tilts her head, lips pursed.
“When the Allie chick didn’t know what she wanted,” I refer to that one stupid rom-com movie I know that Jaimie forced me to watch when she was going through her romance movie-watching obsession.
She clamps her lips tight.
“Well, I definitely want you,” I say sheepishly and clear my throat looking away. This is fucking stupid. I sound and feel fucking stupid.
She leans up and presses her lips to mine. “I understood what you meant at Ryan Goose,” she admits, and I gasp and narrow my eyes at her.
“That was mean of you. I was struggling there!” I whine but can’t help to laugh as she cracks up in laughter, mocking me.
“Sorry.” She laughs even harder.
All I can do is stare down at her in awe and place a simple kiss on her lips. She stops laughing and looks up at me with those oceans for eyes and baby dimple and a comically goofy, wide smile.
“Mine, okay?” I whisper, hovering over her lips.
She nods and whispers back, “Yours.”
Finally, our lips meet, and our hearts also meet in a beautiful, disastrous collision.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I can feel my heart pumping fast enough to make me wonder if it’s going to jump out of my chest as I run. Everything in me is begging to stop, but I have to push myself to the limit and far beyond that. The tournament is in two weeks. There is no way I can hold back now. If I don’t win, let’s just say my life will have no meaning. Not to sound dramatic or anything, it’s just the only way I can legally fight, which is my passion, and get some really good money out of it. I can’t just keep looking for underground or back-door fights. I want my girl to see me beat people’s asses on national television.
My run comes to a stop twenty minutes later. I catch my breath and chug the rest of my bottled water as I enter the gym. A few guys greet me with a nod as I walk past them. Others don’t pay me any attention. I’ve been coming to this new gym ever since David decided to be a traitorous, lying bastard. The fucker still calls me to this day, wanting to apologize and explain. But what is there to explain? He held back an important thing…him moving multiple fucking states away. I mean, what kind of friend just happens to not mention something as fucking massive as that? Especially when said friend has been there to save your ass more times than you can count.
I rotate throughout every machine in the gym. I push past my limits, nearly breaking the fucking boundary until my body is sore and aching. But I push through that even because, like I said, there is no time to be a pussy. I have to be better, stronger, faster if I want to win this thing. My dream lays beyond my win at the tournament. I will face many skilled, talented guys who want the same thing. But none of them have trained as hard as I have. None of them have dreamed of being an MMA fighter for their entire lives. They haven’t had their ass beaten night after night when they first started out, only to push as hard as they could and could finally hold their own. No one, and I mean no one, wants this as badly as I do.
“Yo, Grey,” a familiar voice booms behind me.
I set down a two hundred-pound weight and turn around. “Jake—took you long enough.” I smile as he walks up to me and we exchange a little bro-hug. “Did you get lost or something?” I tease, and he rolls his eyes and sets down his duffel bag.
“Sorry that I didn’t know exactly where this unknown gym was.” He rolls his eyes, and I shrug. He looks at me for a moment and exhales, tilting his head. “Why don’t you two make up already? Everyone misses you down at the gym.”
I exhale too and walk over to the weights. “The minute he admits he acted like the scum of the Earth, maybe. But until then, I’m training for the biggest fights of my life.” I glance over at his contemplative expression and grunt as I lift the heavy weight. “Are you going to stand there acting like a pussy mediator, or are you going to spot me and train with me?”
He quirks that smile that makes the ladies swoon and walks over to me, all confident-like. “You already know the answer.”
“I know, now get the fuck over here, Martin,” I call him by his last name, teasing him.
“Just for that, add another hundred-pound weight.” He smiles sarcastically at me.
“Fuck you,” I spit, setting the weight down and adding another.
“Nah, not really into meat-heads.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I laugh, glad I had him come here. To be honest, I kind of missed his cocky-ass. I have been coming here for a while, and after a while I missed the usual faces at the old gym. I would still go there happily, if fucking David wasn’t there. But that fucker is there nearly every single fucking day. And there is no doubt in my mind that he would try and corner me to speak his peace or some shit like that. I’m just not ready to look at him right now, nor am I prepared to talk to him.
He spots me through the heavy lifting that lasts about half an hour, then spars with me in one of the rings that aren’t already occupied. I work on my quick dodges and uppercuts that I need some work on. I have to be in tiptop shape in every way if I want to win. This lasts for about another half an hour until I feel like I’m going to cough up a liver or intestines. Could be both, who knows?
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says as I’m texting Liv, asking if she wants something before I get back to the house. There is a string of short and late replies from her from the past few days above, and I pull at my bottom lip. She has been a bit distant lately. I fucking hate it. She’s usually always…there.
I turn around and shrug. “What?”
A smile slowly breaks out on his face. “Happy early motherfucking birthday.”
“Ah, fuck. How’d you know?” I run an agitated hand through my sweaty hair, gripping it just to instill how much I am fucking pissed he found out.
He shrugs and puts his gloved hands on his hips. “I have my ways.”
“Well, I fucking hate your ways,” I spit, and he just laughs at me. I grumble curses under my breath as I turn around and begin walking.
“Have a great day, Grandpa!” he calls after me as I am exiting the gym and storming to my car.
“Fucking August 18th,” I mumble as I slip into my car.
***
“Honey, I’m home!” I announce as I enter the house. Liv didn’t respond earlier, so I just got her some kale salad and a milkshake. She eats like a freaking rabbit. Adorable, but so freaking nasty. I’m treating myself to a nice greasy burger. I can already see her disgusted reaction and hear her lecture about being healthy and blah, blah, blah. I only pay attention when she does that because she looks like an adorable angry chipmunk bitching about hibernation or whatever.
I drop my duffel bag and kick off my boots. As if sensing the mess, she steps out of the hallway and glares at them, then at me.
“How many times have I told you to put them to the side?” she chastises.
“About a million.” I kick them to the side, and she begins to whine before going into a lecture about keeping the place neat since it technically isn’t ours. Her cheeks puff out and her big eyes shimmer. Aw, upset chipmunk time.
“You can’t keep doing tha—” she begins.
I cut her speech off with my lips. Her hands slide up my sweaty chest and cup my neck. I lift her up and firmly place her against one of the walls. I will never get tired of her mouth. Or these curvy hips. Or her soft, soft skin. My hands are roaming all around her. She moans, and I smirk. I bite down on her bottom lip, and her mouth falls open. I sneak my tongue in and listen to her moans as I knead my fingers in her ass under her thin dress.
She pulls back so I begin to kiss her velvety skin. “You’re so sweaty,” she whines, and I laugh.
“What did you expect? I just came from the gym, babe,” I explain and nip at her skin—it will surely leave a mark. Good.
She moans my name and begins to say something when a ring punches through the air.
“Shit. That’s me
. I have to go.” She pushes against my chest and lands on her feet. “Don’t worry, we’ll continue this later,” she promises with a smile and seals it with a kiss. Falling back onto the balls of her feet, she leaves me wondering what the fuck that was.
I will interrogate her on her weird behavior later; I’m fucking starving. I set her food on the counter island and tear through my food. I’m throwing the trash away when I hear hushed whispers. I narrow my eyes skeptically and tip-toe over to the bedroom. The door is cracked. I softly push it open a crack and find her looking out the window, talking on the phone. Who is she talking to? She ends the call and tosses her phone on the bed. Sighing as she rubs her eyes, she turns around. Why the hell does she look so stressed?
I fully open the door, and she snaps to attention. “Who was that?” I ask slowly.
“No one,” she lies. I know because she’s playing with the charms on her wrist. A typical identifier for when she’s dishonest.
“Mm-hmmm, sure.” I nod my head, and she smiles. “Actually, I have another question…where have you been lately?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
I sit on the edge of the bed, and she stands in front of me, arms crossed.
“It’s just that, well, you’re barely around. And if you are, you’re off on the phone doing God knows what…so what have you been up to?” I speak easily, carefully watching for any signs of dishonesty.
“I’ve just been a little busy with the formalities with the program,” she says with a small smile. I hum and look her up and down for any sign, but I find none. I guess it does make sense. She’s the type of person to gather all the information on something she’s soon to dedicate her time to. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distant. I promise, it wasn’t my intention at all.”
I shrug. “All good.” I may seem cool about it on the outside, but I’m a freaking mess on the inside. I’ve missed her a lot. I didn’t know how much I loved her company until she started pulling away.
Grey: The Reconnection (Spectrum Series Book 4) Page 23