Beyond What is Given

by Rebecca Yarros

  “Yes.”

  “But I’m his second choice. And first place just hopped back on the track, and she’s so far ahead of me that she’s almost got me lapped.”

  “Sam, Grayson loves you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, or about you.”

  “He cares a lot about me, Ember, but love… I don’t know how you can love someone if you never get your heart back from the person who took it in the first place. He loves Grace. He’s always loved Grace. It was one thing to compete against a ghost, to make peace with that, but the real flesh-and-blood Grace? This was over before it began.”

  “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Or him.” She stood to make another cup of coffee. Our shared caffeine addiction was as strong as our friendship. “What happened when he came home last night?”

  Warmth rushed to my cheeks. “We didn’t exactly talk. I…slept with him and woke up in his bed this morning.”

  She leaned back against the counter as the machine hissed out another dose of energy. “So he came home off the late flight, and the first thing he did was move you to his room, his bed, and make you come.”

  I almost spit out my coffee. “Holy shit, Josh is rubbing off on you.”

  She shrugged. “I’m just saying that doesn’t sound like a guy who thinks you’ve been lapped by another girl.”

  “He didn’t so much as call.”

  “Okay, well, that doesn’t really help his case, true. But give the guy a break; I’m sure he was in a little shock.”

  “What if he slept with her?” The agony that ripped through my chest at the thought was nearly paralyzing.

  She tilted her head at me. “The girl was in a coma for five years. I hardly think she woke up like, ‘let me get some of that.’”

  “But what if he wanted to?” I hated this, the insecurities that had reared their ugly head and were currently choking the hope out of my soul. “Last night was different. It felt like he was saying good-bye.” My face twisted, and I rubbed my hand over my forehead. “I’m going to have to let him go, aren’t I?”

  The front door opened, and I sucked in my breath, composing myself as Jagger and Josh came into the kitchen, both sweating like pigs. Attractive pigs, but yeah.

  “What? No smoothie?” Josh teased me and then kissed Ember lightly. “Good morning.”

  Jagger grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one at Josh.

  “Where’s Grayson?” I asked, trying and failing to keep nonchalant. I didn’t miss the look that passed between the guys.

  “He’s on the phone,” Jagger said and then drained his bottle.

  I took a deep swallow of coffee, wishing I’d poured liquor into it.

  “Yeah, that sounds good,” Grayson’s voice reached me at the same moment the door shut. “I know, I do, too, but I can’t. Looking at the schedule, we won’t have another four-day until the middle of October.” There was a pause, and everyone in the kitchen looked anywhere but at me. “I know,” his voice softened in a way I thought was only reserved for me, and I knew. He was talking to her. “It doesn’t work like that, and I can’t miss days, or they’ll set me back a class. I’ll try in a few weeks, but I can’t promise anything. Why don’t you have Miranda set you up with Skype and I can see you later?”

  My heart crumpled, and it felt like a sucking wound, a black hole pulling everything in around it. This hurt so fucking much. Worse than being left behind when my friends went to college. Worse than being left when Ember took off for Nashville. Worse than Mom leaving for Afghanistan. Worse than Harrison walking away after I discovered his wedding ring.

  Grayson might be here, but he’d already left, too.

  Somehow I’d done it again—become the other woman, the one left behind and forgotten.

  I felt it happen—the bricks of my defenses started to click back into place. It was like a tiny army invaded my heart and tried to slow the hemorrhage by shutting off every feeling.

  “I’m so sorry I’ll miss it, Starboard, but I can’t leave.”

  Holy shit. She had a fucking nickname. Ultra-serious, calls-me-Samantha Grayson called her by a nickname. Click. Click. Click. That tiny little heart army mortared the last brick into place.

  Anger conquered hurt in the wrestling match to control my emotions.

  Grayson came into view as he cleared the half wall between the living room and kitchen. Why did he have to be so beautiful? His eyes met mine, and my stomach sank. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

  He said it to her, but it felt like it was meant for me.

  “You headed home again?” Jagger asked.

  “No. At least not for a couple weeks, if that.”

  He said that one straight to me.

  “Sounds like you’re needed,” I choked out.

  “It’s a stupid news story that Parker leaked. I’m not joining that circus or acting the part she’s assigned.” He walked around the counter and caught the bottle Jagger threw at him. “I’m not even sure why the news is interested.”

  “Beautiful miracle girl awakens from five-year coma to the gorgeous, dutiful boyfriend who never left her side. Pretty sure that has Lifetime movie written all over it.” I faked a smile, and his eyes narrowed.

  “Sam.” He did the little headshake thing that meant he wanted to say something more but wouldn’t.

  But I sure as hell would. I wasn’t getting left this time. Hell no. I was getting ahead of this bull before it ran me the hell over. “It’s okay, really. You have everything you’ve dreamed of, and even got in a farewell fuck last night.”

  His head snapped back like I’d hit him.

  “And that, people, is our cue to leave,” Josh said. The room cleared while Grayson stared me down. I didn’t flinch, despite the energy crackling between us.

  “Samantha.” He stepped toward me, and I thrust my hands out as I stood.

  “Don’t bother.”

  “You can come upstairs with me while we have a civil conversation, or I can carry you there, but either way, you don’t get the last word. We’re going to talk.”

  Tense moments passed until I sighed. “Fine.” My feet carried me to his room without being told to, and Grayson shut the door behind him. He pressed me up against the back of his door before I could mutter a protest. One of his hands held both of mine captive above my head, and he pressed his weight against me, connecting us from breast to thigh.

  My traitorous body melted. That bitch. Why was there such a fine line between angry and turned on? He glanced from my eyes to my lips and they parted.

  Grayson kissed me, claiming every recess, every line of my mouth. His free hand cupped my neck, angling me for a deeper kiss, and I responded, pressing against him, giving back everything he was putting into it. If this was our last kiss, I wanted to brand his soul so that he’d never kiss again without thinking of this—of me. He wedged one of his massive thighs between mine, and applied subtle pressure. My body positively hummed, and it took all of my control not to rub back against his thigh.

  I whimpered, and he retreated. He’d wanted my surrender, and damn it, I gave it.

  When I opened my eyes, he was almost nose-to-nose with me, his eyes boring into mine. “First of all, I didn’t fuck you last night, Samantha. I made love to you, and there’s a huge difference. Second, even when we’re fucking—hot, sweaty, skin slipping against each other, and my only thought is craving that little keening sound you make when you come—I am still making love to you. I never touch you with anything less than my soul. Don’t ever cheapen what we do. Third, why the hell haven’t you moved into this room? I want you in my bed. Sleeping, not sleeping, that’s your choice. And fourth, last night was not a good-bye. I’m not saying good-bye.”

  Move in? “Are you on drugs? There’s no chance I’m moving in with you after what just happened. You have a girlfriend, Grayson.”

  “Yes, and I’m looking at her right now.”

  “You didn’t call. You left, and went to
her, and you didn’t call.”

  His eyes closed like he was in pain, and he rested his forehead against mine. “I am an asshole, and I’m sorry. My head was not the sanest place to be. But I swear, not calling you didn’t mean that I wasn’t thinking about you. I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t know what to say to myself.”

  “Or you were thinking how to break it off with me.”

  He kissed me again, this time tender. “I’m not breaking it off with you. I’m not leaving.”

  “Yet. You’re not leaving yet. But you will.” It was simply inevitable. My eyes prickled. “Why won’t you do it now and save us both a lot of pain?”

  Grayson released my hands and then brushed my cheeks with his thumbs. “Save us pain? Like splitting now wouldn’t hurt? Fuck, Sam. I…” He swallowed. “I’m not sure I could survive losing you, and maybe that’s selfish. I know I’m graduating. We still have to figure out what we are going to do in December. But I’m not leaving you.”

  “Even for her?”

  He didn’t look away, but I felt, more than saw, the war raging beneath the surface. It was in his rigid posture, the ticking in his jaw, the tender way he stroked my skin absentmindedly. “I’m with you.”

  “For how long? Until we get to North Carolina? Until you realize that I’m a hot mess who’s barely pulling herself together and can’t hold a candle to the resident paragon of the Outer Banks? What happens then, Grayson? What happens the first time I see the look in your eyes that you made the wrong choice? Or the first time you realize that if we’d stayed away from each other, you wouldn’t be in this situation? A few months. You made it five years staying faithful to her, and I ruined you in just a few months.”

  “You didn’t ruin me. You brought me back to life. Why are you so sure I would leave you? Why can’t you have a little faith in me?”

  We stared at each other, the silence charged with so much tension it should have come with its own weather forecast. Maybe he was right, and I needed to show a little faith. Maybe I was being horrendously unfair to the man I was in love with. Maybe there was a chance he would be the exception, and not leave. “What did she say when you told her about us?”

  He paled, and his hands fell away from my face. My little army of defense-building minions couldn’t help me this time. “You didn’t tell her,” I whispered.

  “Damn it.” His hands raked over his face. “I wanted to, but her family asked that I wait and give her time to adjust. Her whole life is in upheaval, and I couldn’t bear to add to it. I’ve loved her all my life. She’s my best friend.”

  Loved her all my life. She hadn’t just lapped me; she’d left the track with the flowers already—victorious.

  I pushed on his chest lightly, and he stepped back. “And I’m just the girl who sleeps in your bed.” How much pain could one person handle? How many ways could a heart be shredded before it shriveled and died? I wanted it to die. At least then the feelings would go with it.

  “Samantha, please.” He reached for me, but I sidestepped.

  “Let. Me. Go.” I meant it in more than one way, and given the way he started to shake his head, he knew it. “I love you, Grayson. But you are the last person I want to see right now.” He moved enough for me to open the door.

  “We’re not done talking about this,” he called after me as I slammed my bedroom door.

  “You look like death warmed over,” Avery said as she walked into the gym. Her sweet little southern accent didn’t soften the insult. She wore her gym polo over a pressed pair of capris, her blond hair in a messy knot at the back of her head.

  “Nice to see you, too, cupcake,” I replied from my spot behind the desk.

  She came into the raised office area and dropped her book bag on the ground. “Seriously. And I’m pretty sure you’re wearing two different shoes.”

  I scoffed and looked down. “I most certainly do n—” Well, shit. “They’re the same color, it’s an easy mistake.”

  “Except one’s Adidas and the other’s Saucony.” She pulled out her books and put them on the desk next to the phone.

  “Rough morning,” I said, tucking my feet under the desk.

  “Trouble with the flyboy?” She opened her trig book and her notebook. When I didn’t answer, she swung her head my direction and blinked. “Whoa. Really?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about, Avery. How is your homework?” I peeked over her shoulder.

  “Confusing. It probably didn’t help that I spent most of class making moon eyes at Grady Alexander. But in my defense? This stuff doesn’t make any sense, and I zoned my teacher out.”

  “Bet you wished you’d paid as much attention to your teacher as you did Grady, huh?”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny. Homecoming is in like a month, and I don’t have a date. That is way more important than trig.” She tapped her eraser on the blank sheet of paper.

  At twenty-one, I knew that wasn’t true. Then again, here I was deciding my collegiate future on where my boyfriend planned on moving so that he could be closer to his other girlfriend. I was four years older than Avery and still a fucking mess.

  Not to mention, I remembered what it was like to be seventeen. “Why don’t you ask him? Grady?”

  She looked at me like I’d grown six heads. “Yeah, okay. No. I’m not one of the girls he goes for, trust me. The most communication we have is when he asks me for a pencil. Every day, he asks me for a pencil. Like, what am I? A pencil-supply store? But if he brought his own pencil, then I wouldn’t have a reason to even talk to him.”

  “It’s kind of cute. You have something he needs, and he asks you every day because he knows that you’ll take care of him.” Ugh. Now I was analyzing high-school crushes.

  But what does Grayson need? What are your pencils? Faith. The one thing no one else had. He needed me to have faith in him. At what cost to yourself?

  Avery shook her head. “Computers are easier for me than boys. Give me good internet connection, and I can change my grades. Give me a homecoming dance, and I can’t change my fate. I’m so pathetic.”

  I looped my arm around her slight shoulder. “No, you’re not. Is he coming in today?”

  She shrugged. “It’s Tuesday, so he might come in to lift after football practice.”

  “Then you’d better get your homework done now, because I have a feeling your little moon-eyes will be back.”

  “Will you help me?” she asked quietly.

  I rolled my chair closer to her. “Let’s do this.” I spent an hour explaining the differences between cosign and tangent, using the walls and equipment as visual aids. Avery worked best with imagery, not rote memory.

  “Name one time I’ll actually have to use this when I grow up.”

  “I’m going to use it all the time,” I answered.

  “Yeah, well I have no intention of majoring in math, or anything of the sort. You’d better get your homework done, too, since you started classes last week.” Her eyes flicked to the clock. “Almost five.”

  I’d finished summer term with two A’s. Now it was time to bring home four more before term ended in December. “Grady might be here soon,” I said with a smile.

  “Flyboy might be here soon,” she answered with her own.

  We both sighed.

  “Mail is here!” Maggie called, bringing a stack of envelopes in the door. “I ran into our carrier, so I brought it on in.”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Maggie kissed her daughter soundly on the cheek. “How’s your homework?”

  “Done!” she replied enthusiastically.

  Maggie’s eyebrows rose. “Good job!” Then she came up behind me. “Thank you,” she whispered as she sorted the mail.

  I smiled at her and answered the phone and my tenth question that day about our hours.

  “Maggie Norman, Advantage University? What the…” She flipped the envelope over, and I snagged it out of her hand.

  “Yeah, actually that one is for me. Sorry.” I slipped it into m
y lap.

  “Oh really? What are you up to?”

  “I wanted to see my transcript from my college in Colorado. I’m trying to apply for places in the spring, and I wasn’t sure what was on it.” I gave a bright smile. If I finally gave in and read the exact wording of the disciplinary report, I could write an effective application essay that might give me a shot at a North Carolina school.

  Just in case.

  “Well, it’s good that you’re prepared. Avery, did you want me to carry you home before I headed over to the bar?”

  Carry, take, whatever. I was never going to get used to the small southern terms.

  She shook her head. “No, I was going to stay with Sam and help out cleaning the equipment, if that’s okay. She said she’d take me.”

  I plastered the smile on my face like we’d planned it the whole time.

  “Sounds good. Thanks, Sam.” She kissed Avery on the cheek again and headed out.

  I smacked Avery’s shoulder with the back of my hand. “How about a little warning.”

  “Sorry,” she said, biting her lower lip. Then she looked over my shoulder and her whole expression changed. Her eyes went wide and she started to fidget, suddenly occupied with the paper clips in front of her.

  “Hey, Avery, how are you?” Grady asked as he signed in.

  She took a minute to answer, but he waited, never looking away. “I’m just fine, thank you.” Her voice was a whisper, but her eyes flicked up at him once.

  “Glad to hear it.” He smiled and then headed into the locker room, a black backpack hanging off one shoulder.

  “You could, you know, speak to him,” I chastised her.

  “He makes me so nervous,” she answered.

  “Go clean something, then you can ogle a little less obviously.” I motioned to the gym floor. She giggled and chose something near the desk, no doubt waiting to see where he’d start.