Grey: The Retribution (Spectrum Series Book 3)
Page 34
“Of course, what’s wrong?” I push away my own thoughts and focus on my best friend.
“It’s just that, well, Mateo and I are going out on a date tonight.”
“And…?”
His cheeks flush. “And afterward we plan on, you know…”
I get what he’s saying, but I decide to act like I don’t. “You guys are going to…play card games?”
He gets even redder if possible. “Um, no…”
I nod, then say, “Give each other foot massages?”
“Not that kind of massage,” he mumbles, and I barely rein in a laugh.
“What was that?”
He shakes his head, flustered. “N-nothing.”
I let out my laugh and punch his shoulder. “I know what you two plan on doing.”
His jaw drops, and he hits me right back; I laugh harder as he reddens even more. “That was not cool, Liv!”
“Sorry.” I shrug and bite my lip, shaking my shoulders slightly. “So you two plan on doing the do?”
“Well…yeah.”
I frown. “And what’s the problem?”
“Well, I don’t, you know, really know what to do when doing the…do.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck. “It’s just, I’ve never been with a guy before. So I don’t know the rules and where I’m supposed to put my hands and where I’m supposed to be and—”
“Mase, calm down.” I grab his shoulders and smile. “You shouldn’t freak out, because then he’ll notice, then there’ll be tension and things will get awkward very fast.”
“But he’s been with other guys, and I am…inexperienced. What do I do?”
I shrug. “You know the basics, right?”
“Of course, I’m not an idiot,” he says, then pauses with a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. “But maybe I can do research, so I don’t look like an idiot?”
“What kind of research—oh no! That’s so nasty.” I scrunch up my nose in emphasis.
He nods. “And you’re gonna be my study buddy.”
I gasp and shake my head frantically. “There is no way I am doing that, Mason!”
“Oh, come on. It’s a natural thing. Everyone does it.”
“Not me.” I point to myself, and he pouts and whimpers like a puppy. I roll my eyes. He knows I can’t say no to that face. “Fine, but one video…perv,” I mutter.
He grins too excitedly and holds up a finger. “I’ll be right back.” He dashes out of the room, and I groan.
“I don’t think we should do this, Mase. It’s incredibly weird.”
“Only if you make it weird,” he points out, dropping beside me on the bed, laptop in hand.
“I’m going to die.” I cover my eyes with my hands as a video begins playing.
Mason doesn’t force my hands down, and after five minutes of uncomfortable sounds, the laptop closes, and we both sit in silence for a while.
“I think I’ll stay a virgin for the rest of my life,” he says, voice thick with regret.
I finally pull my hands away and shrug. “I’ve lived as one for eighteen years. It’s not so bad.”
He stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head. “We’re definitely doing it tonight.”
I gasp, offended, and bump into him—he laughs. “Rude!”
He stands and holds out his hand to me. “Come with me? I’m gonna pick him up. We’re gonna hang out here before leaving for the date.”
I glance at his hand and let out a large breath. “Yes.” I take his hand and stand. If I stay here anymore thinking about him, I’ll lose whatever is left of my mind. Plus, I still have a session today, though I would do anything not to be examined by her. But if I don’t go, I’d have my mother’s wrath to deal with.
***
“Liv, hey! What are you doing here?” David sounds surprised as Mason and I enter the gym.
“Not working out like these guys, that’s for sure,” I joke as I gesture to the shirtless men whacking their fists, either in faces or leather bags.
He laughs. “You’re still coming to the engagement party tomorrow, right?”
My breath catches, but I nod with a forced smile. “Yes. I can still bring someone along, right?” I plan on bringing Noah. There is no way I’d last at a party with Grey nearby, lingering, watching. And I doubt Mason or the girls would join me. They’d just be on edge, trying to protect me or something.
He nods feverishly. “Of course.”
Mateo runs up, shirtless and sweaty. “Hey, I’ll go change now. I was just doing manager duties,” he says, panting.
“What are you managing?” Mason asks with a laugh.
“Grey,” Mateo says matter-of-factly.
My throat tightens, but I manage to get out, “What does he need a manager for?”
“Booking fights and repping him, especially for the tournament. Gotta do lots of promos too,” he explains.
David scoffs, crossing his heavily tatted arms. “He’s bullshitting you. I’m actually Grey’s manager.”
I shift my eyes to Mateo, who twitches his shoulders and scoffs loudly.
“I am the manager,” he says firmly.
“More like an assistant,” David counters.
“More like assistant manager.”
David chuckles. “No, you’re the assistant to his manger.”
While they banter back and forth, I keep checking my phone. The appointment is in ten minutes, and the walk is fifteen. If Mother finds out I am even a minute late…I can’t let it happen. But I also can’t let her pick at my brain and demand I just get over him. Not when I can take control of…whatever this is between him and me and offer him a chance. The chance can be interpreted however he wants, but I just have to get it out there before my mind implodes. And I think I have an idea how to do it…
“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” I ask David.
“In the back, third door on the right.”
“Thanks.” I smile and walk to the back, but I keep walking past the third door…
***
Grey
I couldn’t sleep last night.
I could only think of her, of Liv. And how her hair was so naturally curly and unruly when she first awoke. And how perfectly soft she was under my touch, and how she always got on her toes when she kissed or hugged me. And how she smelled like fresh vanilla and a field of flowers. God, everything about her was perfect, and they still are. When I saw her last night, I couldn’t help but gawk at her and secretly wish I could watch the dress fall down to her little ankles and kiss every inch of her smooth skin.
I stumbled back when hit in the stomach. “Fuck,” I grumble. I am so distracted I’m getting knocked around by a lower-level fighter. Talk about fucking embarrassing. “Again,” I order, and this time, I stop thinking about the girl with moons for eyes and actually fight.
When I finally finish my spar match, I am a little out of breath as I make my way to the back for my stuff. I’m not done for the day, I want to train some more in a few, but I need my bottled water and to check my phone. Dean may have texted me because I have some business with the gang I have to…take care of.
I am opening my locker when a folded-up paper falls out.
“What the hell?” I bend down and scoop up the paper. I look around, thinking it’s some sort of prank. If it is, I have no problem beating their ass for trying to pull something over me. When I find no one suspicious, I let out a heavy breath and flip open the paper. My heart stops, and I feel my knees grow weak.
It’s a letter from Liv. I can tell from her neat script that just has a way to it where I just know it’s her. I can even smell a little whiff of her left behind: vanilla and lavender.
I will always be drawn to your middle ground, G.—Forever yours, L.
Chapter Fifty
When I get home, my eyes are puffy from all the crying I’ve been doing at therapy. Dr. Drews was extra harsh with me, screaming and trying to drill in my head that I have to get over him or she just may have to give my mother
the recommendation needed to send me to some group therapy house in Nebraska. That’s right, my mother is threatening to ship me off to some state, so I’d get over Grey and every feeling he left with me, damning college and my career, which I’ve already begun pursuing. I had to beg her not to and nodded along with everything that she said, but as soon as I left that sterilized building, I couldn’t help but break down into tears like the emotional sap I’ve become.
I wish I could heed her advice and just move on. I could let her and my mother wipe my brain clean of any remnants of Grey. I’d forget the heartbreak and lies and dark past and even darker present and feel rejuvenated and clean. But I can’t do that. There is no switch to just reboot myself. My hard-drive has been hijacked by all things Grey. And wiping myself clean of him would surely be a difficult thing that I wouldn’t be sure to survive, not completely, at least.
But to survive the summer, I will abide by their words. I will appear to be smitten with Noah. I will smile, and I’ll laugh, and we’ll appear perfect. I will act perfect. Because otherwise, I will be shipped off and treated as a naïve girl who got so caught up with a boy that she lost all common sense and reality. I’d be looked at as insane, obsessed, unstable.
And the humiliation my mother will be faced with would be horrendous. Monumental. She’d be asked by her snobbiest friends, looked down upon for raising such an insubordinate daughter, and wouldn’t be able to live. And she’d have me to blame, forever hating me. Despising me more than ever. I couldn’t live knowing that my own mother loathes me, so if I have to pretend I’m happy…I’ll pretend all she wants. Even if I won’t feel alive…at least I’d be living, right?
I jog up to my room and lose myself in my relaxing shower. The hot water pounds on my skin and loosens the knots in my muscles. I stand under the heavy shower for maybe half an hour until it finally grows cold and my skin gets pruned. I step out, reluctantly take my pills in case Mother asks, and get dressed in a flowing white dress and brush out my natural curls. I am barefoot since I’m just staying in the house. Mateo and Mason are out on their date, Jaimie and Julia are out sight-seeing by themselves, and Charlotte…she’s still upset about me going to David and Holly’s party. So I’m pretty much by myself in the massive mansion.
But when I enter the kitchen to get something to eat since I haven’t eaten all day, I find Charlotte behind the center island, chewing on an apple. She stops chewing when her eyes meet mine. The hairs on the back of my neck rises in anticipation. I wring my hands anxiously. We haven’t spoken since she stormed out on our dispute in the dress boutique. I hate that. We don’t ever cut ties like that. If this goes on any longer, I’ll absolutely lose my mind. She really is like my sister, and I can’t live knowing that she’s angry at me.
“Hey,” she says, nodding.
I nod back and look around, unsure. “Uh, hi.”
A beat, then two, then—
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
I gape incredulously and rush over to her. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for.” I sit down on one of the stools and clasp her free hand. “I’m the one who should have taken what you said under consideration. I get that you care about my well-being, and I was wrong.”
“No, you were right.” She shakes her head frantically as she sets down the apple and takes my other hand. “Although I don’t agree with your choice…” She lets out a lengthy breath. “You’re a grown woman, not a little girl who doesn’t know how horrible khaki pants paired with polo is,” she jokes, and I laugh.
“But I—” I begin, voice thick with emotion.
“Shut up and let me apologize,” she cuts me off.
I bite my lip, swallowing my words.
She sucks in a large breath. “And if I know you, which I do pretty well, I know that you don’t break promises.”
“I promise I won’t interact with him or anything…” I pause and swallow the lump in my throat. “But I don’t think that should be a problem anymore.” Seeing how it’s been a while since I slipped him the note and he hasn’t made any calls or texts to me…I think he’s officially given up on us. He’s just been playing with my feelings some more, torturing me beyond words.
She pulls me into her arms, probably sensing I need it. But she’s been able to sense it for a long time, so she’s practically an expert by now.
“Knock, knock,” a voice says behind us.
I turn around to see who it is, but Charlotte smiles and says, “Nick, what a pleasure. What’s dragged your lazy ass out of bed?” She looks at my confused expression, shrugs, then explains, “I called him earlier to hang out. I wanted to go surfing and thought he looked like a surfer dude and would join along. But he couldn’t answer his damn phone.”
“Why not?” I ask, shaking my head.
He blushes bright red and scratches the back of his head, like he’s nervous. But what does he have to be nervous about?
“I’ve been busy,” he mutters.
Doing what?
“Doing what?” Charlotte mirrors my thoughts, but rather rudely.
He flushes red again and glances at me. “Can I talk to you…um…o-outside?”
He’s stuttering?
Char and I share a confused look.
I look back at him and watch as he stares at his expensive watch and his leg shakes. Almost like he’s about to miss a flight or something.
“Um, sure?”
“Charlotte, stay,” he says just as she’s getting up.
“Wha—I’m not a fucking dog,” she spits.
“Char.” I turn around and hold up a hand, telling her to cool down. “We’ll just be right outside.”
She rolls her eyes and slumps against the counter. “If you’re doing any freaky shit, don’t come back inside the house. Go ’round and wash off, then come inside,” she instructs, and I lift a questioning brow. “What? I am Louise’s daughter. Gotta keep shit clean.”
He smiles, ignoring Char, and grabs my hand. “Now, don’t be weirded out or anything. I don’t…normally do this, and I don’t know if you’d say yes under normal circumstances.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask him, seriously concerned. I know he’s into drugs and everything, but I thought he knew his limit.
“Shh, just—here.” Suddenly, my vision is blackened. His palms are rough and smell like bar soap, clean.
“Why are your hands on my eyes, Noah?” I ask nervously. I don’t like being left in the dark. Literally.
“You’ll see…now.” He yanks his hands away and grips my shoulders, tipping my body backward. I stare up at the sky confused. Am I supposed to be looking at something?
“What?” I shrug and look at Noah. He’s grinning from ear to ear like a kid in a candy store.
“Look, look—it’s happening!” He tips my chin to the right and up so fast, I almost have whiplash. I want to ask what drugs he’s taken, but he clasps his hands on the sides of my head and forces it to stay up.
“What the—?” I gasp.
A little jet plane is slowly making its way across the sky, leaving behind the words: Liv, will you go out with me?
I turn to Noah. “What the heck, Noah?”
He still has that buzzed look of excitement sprawled across his face when I turn around. “Well? Will you?” He furiously runs his fingers around his dusty-brown hair. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, but I’ve either fucked up with you or you were too…” He trails off, and I look away. Even he knows I’ve been haunted by Grey. “Um, but, will you?”
The excited look on his face makes my heart squeeze, and I find myself bracing for a buzz from my phone, bearing a text or a call from a boy who clearly doesn’t want me. But when I feel nothing, and I realize how fucked up it is, I look at Noah, reach up, and cup his face…and nod.
“I’d love to,” I say, holding back the breakage in my voice.
He nearly bursts in happiness as he picks me up by my waist and spins around. I laugh, throwing my head back. And as I list
en to him chuckle and allow myself to admire his deep dimples and how radiant he is…I realize, I don’t think I’d have to pretend to be happy as much as I did before…
THE END
Acknowledgments
First off, I want to thank you for continuing the very frustrating story of a very frustrating couple. If you are one of my Wattpad readers, then you know it only gets more insane and more emotional from here. But WP reader or not, I have to thank you for picking up this book and resuming the story that has probably made you want to tear your hair out. I hope to see you around for the next three books!
Next, I have to thank my family, again, because I can’t thank them enough. They encouraged my writing and solitude from the world as I poured my heart and soul into stories I forbade them to even read. Thank you for supporting me, as always.
Limitless, you already know how much I appreciate and love you for giving this couple a chance. You’ve helped me get their story out there, and I cannot thank you enough. <3
Toni, I am so grateful to have you as my editor. These books needed a LOT of work done since I basically threw rambling words on my laptop without ever thinking I would have it professionally edited, but you helped sort through my mess, and I have to thank you, a million times.
About the Author
Allison White is a writer spending most of her days creating stories when most people are asleep. She has always been a lover of stories, especially romance. From the very first word she typed, she knew writing was her passion and never stopped. And when she isn’t creating stories that tend to break and mend reader’s hearts, she’s either listening to music or getting way too involved with fictional characters.
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