My parents divorced when I was in grade seven, and my mom never recovered from that heartbreak. She let her despair consume her until there was nothing left but a bleakness that terrified the ever living shit out of me.
It was why I had been so terrified to fall for Everly, to let her get close to me. Because I knew what heartbreak could do, and I didn't want to feel that—or cause it. Everly knew I resented my parents for their parts in screwing me up. I had resented my father for breaking up our family, and my mother for not being strong enough to move past it for me. I'd lost her that year—the year that I finally let myself fall for Everly. The year that I left her, thinking it'd be better for her if I did.
Of course, my misguided attempt at avoiding heartache had me—and her—experiencing it at full force.
I couldn't be mad at Everly because this situation was entirely different from that one. In this situation, I was the one that walked away first. I was the one that made it impossible to be reached. I shut down my email account, my cell phone, and disappeared completely.
Everly did what she had to do with what I'd left her with, which was nothing. I'd left her with nothing but heartache and a baby that I hadn't even known about. But Everly had done a damn good job with the crumbs I'd left her, as far as I could tell. She had found someone who could take care of our daughter while she worked her ass off to make sure Cadence had everything she could ever need without any help from my sorry ass at all.
I took in another deep lungful of air before I stepped toward her, saying nothing at first. She set the coffee down on the kitchen table, her hands shaking. She kept her chin lifted and her spine straight, preparing for me to lash out at her.
I kept closing the distance between us until I cornered her against the tiny wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. Her back was against the wall, her palms splayed out on either side of her hips, as if she was trying to ground herself.
"What would you have done, Grayson?" Everly's voice was gentle, but she had a heartbreakingly wounded expression in her eyes as she looked at me, waiting for the angry words to come. It broke me that I'd conditioned her to feel that way; like I'd either flee or react with anger.
I wasn't going to lash out, but I wasn't going to speak until I touched her. My hand reached out, slow and hesitant. I rested it on the side of her delicate neck, feeling her pulse beating frantically beneath my palm. I brought my other hand up to cup the side of her face, my thumbs gently stroking her soft skin.
I had always struggled with expressing my emotions, feelings and thoughts. I was the kind of guy that bottled it up until I exploded. Words didn't come easily to me—at least not in conversation. But touching Everly always unlocked something in me, that ability that I didn't seem to have when she wasn't around to pull me out.
Focusing on the feel of her hummingbird heartbeat beneath my palm, I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of her. I opened my eyes slowly, looking into the pale green pools that were staring intently at me with wide-eyed uncertainty.
"I kept running it all over in my head, wondering what I would have done if I'd known that you were pregnant," I finally said, my voice heavy with emotion as I gazed into her eyes with remorse. "I couldn't have done it, Everly. Not then..." my voice broke with shame and I lowered my head.
I felt Everly's fingers gently stroke the stubble on my chin, and I realized with embarrassment that my eyes had started to water. I raised my head again, blinking away the moisture as our gazes locked.
"I wasn't ready either," Everly pointed out.
"What now?" I whispered.
"I don't know," she whispered back, letting her hand fall. She was just as vulnerable and lost as I was. "All I know is that I have to be ready."
"Tell me what you need me to do, Everly. I swear I'll do whatever it takes." The words were hard to get out. I was basically asking her to forgive me, to move past what I'd done to her— to us.
She swallowed and I felt the movement beneath my palm. "I don't have any answers, Grayson," she said, her voice shaking. She was avoiding my eyes again.
"Could you forgive me? For...shutting you out and leaving you?" I pressed, arching my hips against hers with a need that was more than just physical, although that was there. This need was an ache that went straight into my bones. The need to connect with her again as I once had.
Everly was the only person I'd ever let into my stony fortress; she was the only one who understood me and accepted me. She'd known my flaws, and she had loved me regardless. I knew I could love her regardless of her flaws, too. I already did.
"Could you forgive me for giving up on trying to find you? For allowing my sister to raise our daughter?" Everly's voice was pained and her eyes were full of sorrow. Everly didn't forgive herself.
I couldn't form the words to express that I had already forgiven her, that I was desperately aching for her, that I'd walk through flames for the chance to have her again. I didn't have the words for that. Instead, my lips collided with hers fervently. I pressed my pelvis to her, grinding my hard length against her, fueled by her tiny gasps and moans.
Her head fell back against the wall as my lips grazed her neck, feathering kisses beneath her jawline. She clung to my body, rolling her hips into me as I returned to her lips. The friction of both our jeans rubbing against my engorged cock felt sensual. The way she was tugging on my lip with her teeth made my eyes roll into the back of my head.
"I need to have you," I told her, half crazed with desire and longing.
Everly opened her eyes, seeming to come to. Her chest rose and fell frantically. Her eyes widened as she took in the kitchen, the pleasured blush fading from her cheeks.
"Not here," she said, shoving at my chest with her trembling hand. I stepped back from her, giving us both space to catch our breath. "I have to pack up Julia's bedroom."
I inwardly smacked myself. I'd completely forgotten that we were standing in the kitchen of her late sister's house, packing up the rest of her worldly possessions. "Jesus, Everly...I'm sorry."
"It's okay." A small smile graced her lips as she raised her eyes to meet mine again. "You always could make the world fall away with your touch."
"Guess that means I’ve still got it." I smirked.
Chapter Nine
Everly
EVERYTHING IN MY SISTER'S house was packed away into boxes, lined neatly against walls. The clothes, the pictures, the knick knacks. The dishes, cookware and cutlery. Several boxes were piled by the door; they were Cadence's things or the items that I wanted, and the ones that I thought my parents and Cadence would want. Photos, her little keepsakes. Her favorite perfume and her pearl drop earrings I'd bought her for Mother's Day, from Cadence.
One of the items that hit me hard to see was the tiny box in Julia's closet that had special Christmas tree ornaments in it. I gently touched the baby's first Christmas ornament with a watery smile. It was nearly December; we would soon be celebrating our first Christmas without Julia. I added that box to the keep pile, my heart heavy.
My last task of the day was to clean out the entire refrigerator. I threw out what couldn't be donated to the town Food Bank and scrubbed the inside of her refrigerator furiously, using the physical labor to keep myself from thinking about the fact that I was packing away my dead sister's home.
Grayson helped...a lot. He did heavy lifting. He scrubbed the oven while I scrubbed the fridge. He was quiet, letting me grieve in the silent way that I needed. He didn't ask me why I didn't just hire someone to do it. I could have afforded it, but this was something that I felt I needed to do. Something that would give me closure.
I hadn't planned on having Grayson's help, but I was thankful for it. It likely would have taken me triple the time alone. I knew that Aubrey and Alicia would have helped had they known what I was up to, but I hadn't told anybody. Not even my parents. I hadn't wanted to upset them or make them feel obligated to help.
Now the only thing to do was wait for the local thrift store t
o pick up the remaining boxes and furniture. They wouldn't be coming until the next day, though, so at seven at night we finally called it a day.
"You haven't eaten," Grayson pointed out, as we carried the final boxes to the car. Some of Cadence's stuffed animals were poking out of the box Grayson was carrying. He gently set the box down in the back seat, beside Cadence's booster seat. I watched as his fingers briefly touched the stuffed animal's head before he closed the door and turned to face me.
It was true; I hadn't eaten. I'd been so preoccupied with getting everything done that I hadn't even thought about food. My stomach was growling now, awakened by Grayson's casual observation.
"Neither have you," I retorted, arching a brow.
He grinned. "I know. Let's go grab food," he suggested.
I hesitated. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" Grayson was still smiling at me, as if he could sense I had very little fight left.
"I'll be recognized, I—" I started to explain, but Grayson's hands were suddenly cupping my face. The look in his eyes instantly silenced me before his lips crashed against mine.
He shifted me so that it was my back against the car instead of his. He pressed his pelvis to mine, pinning me against the car. It sent me back to high school, back to the night of Zoe March’s Halloween party. It forced me to replay when he kissed me like that and I went with him, knowing it would lead me to heartache, but also knowing that I wanted it no matter the outcome.
Grayson kissed me until I melted completely into him, until he could have had me then and there on the roof of my parents’ car in the freezing November night with the snow softly falling all around us.
As if he'd felt my surrender, Grayson stopped kissing me and looked into my eyes. He smiled wantonly. "So we'll order pizza and we'll go back to my place for a bit." He arched his eyebrow suggestively. My stomach rolled with desire and my heart fluttered frantically in my chest. "I'll drive," he added.
"Don't you always?" I remarked dryly.
He grinned, gesturing to his truck. "Your chariot awaits," he said with flourish.
***
Grayson eased his truck into a long driveway that led up to a beautifully designed modern house. It was two stories and all sharp, clean angles and shiny windows. Light poured out from inside, illuminating the beautiful front yard.
"Oh my God, Grayson. This is beautiful!" I told him, opening the truck door and jumping down. My feet struggled to find tread on the icy driveway.
I nearly slipped, but just as I was falling, Grayson caught me, his hand shooting out to grip my arm and steady me. "Guess I should put some salt down."
"I guess so," I responded, disoriented.
Grayson made sure that I was steady on my feet before releasing my arm, a smirk on his delectable lips. "Let's go inside," he said as he turned to lead me up the slippery walkway. He hesitated for a moment before his hand found mine. My heart thudded loudly in my chest. My hand felt so good in his, and from the intense way Grayson was covertly looking at me, I knew where this night would go. I swallowed, suddenly nervous.
I hadn't been celibate for the last five years, but my experiences were far and few between...and definitely nothing to write home about. I hadn't had good sex since Grayson. I didn't know if that was because of my intense feelings for him, or if he was just an incredible lover, or if the two different guys I'd met in LA were just more concerned with themselves getting off than with me getting any enjoyment.
Grayson though...Grayson was a very attentive lover and always had been. It was his mission to make me enjoy myself as much as possible before he allowed himself any kind of release. He'd always been focused on me.
"I'll be right back," Grayson promised, flicking on the lights. "I'm just going to put some salt down over that ice patch. Make yourself at home."
My heart stuttered in my chest at his words. I couldn't look at him. I was afraid to see his expression, afraid that he'd regret his choice of words when he saw how profoundly they had affected me. Instead, I focused on examining the beautiful rooms of the main floor.
Grayson's living room was located to the right of the main foyer. The south and north facing walls were completely made up of windows. I couldn’t see outside since the light from inside caused a mirror image reflection. It made me a little uncomfortable to know that I couldn't see out but people could see in, so I crossed my arms and ducked into the kitchen.
His kitchen was modern, sleek and masculine with black walnut cabinetry and dark marble countertops. All of his appliances were stainless steel, and the backsplash was a light and dark gray tilted pattern. Everything gleamed; there wasn't a speck of anything out of place.
Grayson cleared his throat, surprising me; I hadn't heard him come back in. He was standing near the island, his eyes assessing me with pleasure. "You look good in my kitchen."
"Well, don't count on me cooking. I never learned how," I retorted, turning my back on him to inspect his refrigerator like the nosy house guest that I was. It was stocked full of yogurt, produce and beer. I closed it wordlessly.
"Excuse me? You don't know how to cook?" Grayson said with astonishment. "Even I know how to cook, Everly, and I'm fucking hopeless."
"You're not hopeless." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Besides, I never had to. My mom cooked for me until I left on tour, and...well. Who needs to cook when you've got an album that went platinum and a couple of Grammys?" I added, shrugging with discomfort. I was ashamed of the fact that I didn't know how to cook, and I hadn't really thought about it until this moment.
Grayson walked over to me, stopping just before me. His fingers came up to brush against my jaw. "Hey now," Grayson said soothingly. "I wouldn't have learned either if it wasn't a necessity. But that won't stop me from trying to teach you how to cook. Everyone should know how to at least make spaghetti."
"You can make spaghetti?" I asked, peering up at him skeptically.
Grayson grinned, stepping away from me so that he could inspect his refrigerator. "Do you care if our spaghetti is missing a crucial ingredient or two?"
"What?"
"Noodles? Meatballs? And...erm," Grayson opened and closed a few cupboards, "spaghetti sauce?"
"So...we're going to drink boiled water?" I smirked. So much for his plan of teaching me how to cook.
Grayson pulled his phone out of his back pocket, flipping through the contacts quickly. He raised the phone to his ear and waited for someone to pick up. "Hi there, I'd like to order a pizza. Large, deluxe. Two pops. One Dr. Pepper, one Pepsi. Yeah, toss in a couple of dipping sauces. Creamy garlic works?" I nodded in response to his question. "Yeah that's fine. Okay, thank you."
He flipped his phone shut and set it back on the counter, his eyes never leaving my face. He licked his lips. "Forty minutes or it's free," he remarked, arching an eyebrow while he leaned back against the counter. The way he was looking at me made my breath hitch and desire roll in my lower belly.
"We should talk first," I said, folding my arms across my chest and looking away from him. He approached me slowly, as if he was stalking me.
"What did you want to talk about?" Grayson asked, nuzzling his lips against my neck. My thoughts melted away from my mind, and suddenly I had a very difficult time recalling what I wanted to talk about.
"Cadence," I finally said, nearly gasping as he gently sucked and nipped at my neck. He paused, pulling his face away from mine so he could look into my eyes.
"Oh, I intend to talk about her, just as soon as I'm done making your legs quake," Grayson murmured, his hand traveling up my ribcage and lifting my shirt. He squeezed my breast, rolling my nipple with his thumb and index finger through my lace bra. "I've waited too long for this moment, Everly. If I don't have you...I'll explode."
My eyes fluttered closed and my head fell back. I wasn't sure if my response was to how incredible his fingers felt on my nipples, or his desperate words. I moved my hips against his, feeling the hard length of him through both our jeans.
"There, now nobody can see us." Grayson sauntered towards me again, a hungry look in his eyes. Driven with five years worth of need, I closed the distance between us and jumped into his arms, hugging his hips with my legs. He caught me like he'd known all along I was going to jump. His hands gripped my ass and he gently squeezed as he pressed his hard length against me.
We looked at each other while my hands weaved through his thick hair. The smoky desire behind Grayson's heavy-lidded eyes made my lower abdomen clench with anticipation. I tugged gently, pulling his face up so I could kiss him.
I channeled everything into that kiss; I truly let go, let myself submit to him and my feelings for him. Thinking could happen later; right now I wanted to curl up in the bliss and stay there for a little while.
Grayson carried me to the counter, never breaking the kiss. He set me down on top of it and stood between my legs, his hands running all over my thighs while he kissed me with his own burning need.
He pulled my shirt off over my head, pausing to admire my black lace bra. His hands brushed across the tops of my breasts, and I shuddered with the pleasure of having his hands on me once again.
"God, Everly, you're stunning," Grayson told me, his eyes drinking me in with awe. I slid off the counter, pressing my body to his. The action made the desire even more evident in Grayson's eyes. His lips came to mine again as his hand gently unbuttoned my jeans. I worked on his shirt, pulling it up over his head and tossing it aside.
My breasts rose and fell rapidly with the hurried pounding of my heart. I could feel Grayson's heart beneath the palm of my hand, and it was beating just as chaotically as mine, matching the tempo beat per beat. His breath hitched as my hand traveled down the cut muscles of his torso and unbuttoned his jeans. I pushed down his jeans and boxers just enough for him to spring free.
Reckless Abandon (Damaged #2) Page 9