“Take your time,” I say, and he chuckles, sliding out of the booth.
“Be back in a jiffy,” he chimes before walking away.
“Back in a jiffy,” I mock him under my breath, and Liv pinches my side.
“Stop being rude,” she whispers like she’s afraid good ol’ Maxwell is listening.
I stick my tongue out at her.
She rolls her eyes at my attitude and pinches my tongue.
“Um, ow!” I laugh at her and pinch her hip.
“Grey!” She squeals and tries to scoot away from me but ends up hitting the glass wall beside her.
I burst into laughter as she reddens and hits me in the shoulder in retaliation. “It’s not my fault he talks and looks like a freaking cartoon character.”
“He does not!” she exclaims, obviously lying.
“Of course you wouldn’t see it. You’re just like him. With your huge blue eyes, I bet you see everything in pixels, huh?” I tease, crossing my arms and watching as her face grow a soft red like she’s been pinched in the cheeks. Adorable, I tell you.
“I do not!” Her pouty lips curl into a frown.
“Oh, yes you do!” I laugh and throw a salty fry in my mouth, eyeing her with a smirk. “But I like it.”
“So glad you like my cartoon eyes,” she huffs, resting her chin on my arm. I sling an arm around her waist and try to feed her a crunchy fry, but she just scrunches up her nose. “No thanks.”
“What is your deal with good food?” I toss the fry in my mouth.
“That is not good food. It’s a heart attack just waiting to happen.” She points to my half-plate of fries and little bite of burger.
“Excuse you, I have the strongest heart known to man.” I gasp like I’m offended, and she laughs, leaning on my chest with her cartoon eyes staring up at me.
“Yeah, right.”
I am about to quip back a response when my phone buzzes.
“Hold on,” I murmur, digging my phone out of my pocket. I swipe my finger across the screen. “Oh shit.”
“What is it?” She peers at my phone.
“You have a doctor’s appointment. I totally forgot.”
She looks a little lost for a moment, but then she frowns. “Oh…for what?”
“A check-up.” I don’t like the way she’s looking right now. “Is something wrong? Is there something you need to have looked at specifically? Are you experiencing more intense chest pains again? More vivid hallucinations? What do you see right now?” I hold her hands.
She smiles uneasily. “I’m fine, just don’t feel like going…”
“You have to go.” I want to be on top of whatever is wrong with her.
“Do I?” She shrugs and places her hair behind her ear.
Why is she being like this?
“Are you afraid they’ll find something wrong with you?” I ask gently.
She looks at me, wide eyed, and says in her soft voice, “What isn’t wrong with me?”
“I—”
“Sorry, I have to go.” Milo reappears, grabbing his satchel purse thing and sliding it over his cardigan. “I’ll call you later.”
“No, you won’t.” I smile, tight-lipped.
He just laughs and nods at Liv. “See you Monday, then?”
She nods. “See you Monday.”
He leaves, and she pulls her hands back.
“What’s wrong, princess?” I block her from leaving.
She sighs loudly and pinches her lower lip. “I—just…what if they find something really bad? Something I won’t be able to recover from?”
“Nonsense.” I wave the thought away instantly, gifting her with a grin. “You are the strongest girl I know. You’ve already overcome so many odds…If there’s something else that dares to limit you, I have no doubt you will fight it. And although you may not have the strongest lungs now, you have the best heart.”
Tears fall down her chubby cheeks, and she shakily swipes them away. “Have I told you how much I love you, lately?”
I laugh and nod. “You don’t have to tell me, because I feel it when you look at me.”
“You are so cheesy.” She laughs, and I relish in the sweet, sweet sound.
“Cheesy for you.” I kiss her cheek and pull her to stand outside of the booth. “Now let’s go and get you checked out.”
***
An hour later, we are in an all-white room in the hospital. I hold Liv’s hand and let her grip and scratch and bite into my skin whenever her nerves become too much for her. I am and will always be her support system. Hell, I’ve become her anxiety ball for her to relieve nerves and stress. But although I appear strong for her, I also feel the raging misfits of anxiety coursing through my veins.
I cast nervous looks around the room, my nose full of disinfectant. The last time I was here, holding Liv’s hand like this, I was convinced I would lose her forever. I can still remember chasing down the ambulance after they’d kicked me out for being too rowdy for them to do their work. Can still feel the shakiness of my hands as I burst through the corridors in search of her. Can still see her pale white skin and still chest while she lay on the hospital bed as they tried to revive her.
“We’re losing her,” a nurse had exclaimed, shuffling around the bed.
“You can’t go in there!” a doctor had tried to tell me, but I ran into the room anyway.
“Liv.” My voice came out strained and locked.
My princess wasn’t breathing. Why the fuck wasn’t she breathing?
The shock of the metal contraption on her chest shrieked, drowning out my cries.
“Grey? Grey, are you okay?” Liv’s melodic voice pulls me out of the scary memory.
I look up from her hand, which I’d been clutching too hard, and into her confused, wide eyes. “Sorry, what’s happening?”
“Doctor Fitzgerald was just telling us everything looks good.” Her smile is contagious. I break into a grin and look at the tall man with a wide smile as well. See? My girl can light up any fucking room she wants.
“That’s great! So…” I clear my voice and raise a brow. “About sex? Is that able to happen now?”
“Grey,” Liv whines, face flushed.
Doctor Fitz laughs but nods. “Yes. Your heart seems fine, thanks to these puppies.” He tugs at the heart-listening thing around his neck. “But I wouldn’t go full whips and chains.”
“Oh, doctor.” Liv covers her face, embarrassed.
We both laugh at her, and I kiss her knuckles.
Twenty minutes, we are driving home. So far, it’s been silent. The only thing that’s keeping the car from being totally mute is the low volume of a favorite rock song of mine and the purring engine of my car. I tap my fingers along the wheel, and she plays with my charm, bouncing her left leg.
“So, like, we can have sex now,” I say, breaking the silence. “Not a big deal.”
“Right…right,” she says more firmly, and we lock eyes. Her lips twitch, and she looks at the road, clearing her throat. “Right.”
A moment of silence, purring, and electric guitars.
“Because, like, sex doesn’t control us or our relationship,” I add, gliding my knuckles along the leather wheel. “We define our relationship. Am I right?”
“You are so right. We don’t even need it to breathe or anything.”
I look at her with a curt nod. “So right.”
“Like, we’ve gone a month without it and we haven’t withered or anything, right?”
I shake my head. “Not one bit. I’m still desperately, blindingly, crazy in love with you.”
She looks at me with a cheeky shrug and wide smile. “Aw, same, babe.” She leans over, and I turn my head, meeting her puckered lips for a quick kiss.
I hum and look back to the road.
Silence ensues for a long while, her sighing, the purring, screaming voices, and my finger tapping.
“So…” I slow to a stop at a red light and look at her. “You aren’t, you know, on the pill
, right?”
She shakes her head, bottom lip jutted out. “Nope…” She shrugs and runs her fingertips along my arm. I raise a brow, and her lips twitch into the smallest smile. “You mind stopping at a 7-11? I could really go for a slushie. And not just because it also sells condoms.” She leans her elbow on the center console and taps her cheeky lips that are bunched up.
“Nah…I don’t mind at all…” I hold her gaze, and we burst into laughter as I slam on the gas the minute the light changes.
***
About an hour later, we fall back onto the bed, sweaty, panting, and smiling elatedly. We are completely spent after fucking. And let me tell you, we fucked like we had never fucked before. I think that’s my new favorite word. Forget fucker. Fucking is my new favorite word of all fucking time.
I drape her leg over my waist, and she snuggles her face in my chest.
“That was…” I let out a long breath.
“Tiring,” she answers, and we lock eyes before descending into laughter. She kisses my chest, and I smile as her soft lips trace my tattoo. I gently rub her lower back, feeling her breasts pressed against my stomach. I run my fingers along her back, and she shivers. I smirk ruefully.
“Want to go for round two?” I ask.
“What if my heart can’t handle it?” she questions, but I see her smile playing on her lips clear as day.
“It’s all about exercising the muscle, babe.” I wink at her, and she laughs a snorting laugh that makes my chest hurt…but in a damn good way.
Chapter Eleven
Liv
Grey and I spent the entirety of the next day “making up for lost time.” In other words, we had sex. And lots of it. It’s not like we were going insane or losing our love for each other without it. More like, we just missed being one with each other. Missed feeling each other’s increased heartbeats pressed against our chests while connecting together. There is nothing better than having our souls intertwine. Or hearing him laugh if I blurt out something weird, only to cover my face and him smother me in wet kisses to make up for laughing again. I can still feel my heart stammer and explode as he hovers above me, pinning me using both his large hands and black eyes.
Now, it’s Monday, and to say I am sore would be an insane understatement. I would like nothing more than to throw on a shirt of his, wipe off the makeup, and jump into his lap with a blanket on the couch. He’d watch his fighter channel while I read, smiling softly as he cheers on a favorite fighter of his and trying to “ignore” the affectionate rubbing of my leg when something good happens on the TV. But I can’t. This week I have the program and no time to do anything like that with Grey. However, this week we get to garner some experience in the psych ward of a hospital. I know I shouldn’t be so excited, but I’ve always been fascinated with the mental diseases that distort and contort your mind. I sound insane, but I can’t help it.
I tilt my head as I examine my face, noticing how much thinner my cheeks look. Not by a lot, but just enough that I notice. I continue to curl my hair but am unable to get rid of the haunting image. There are no bags under my eyes. My hair is still full, no loss there. So I’m not stressed. There wouldn’t be any reason for stress anyway. I’m doing great with my schoolwork and the program. So good that all of my professors are proud of me considering where I was a month ago, and Garrett constantly praises me. Plus, Doctor Fitzgerald would have pointed out my stress levels when he took my blood pressure at the doctor’s appointment. Have I always looked this way, or am I going crazy…?
I step out of the room and into the living room, where Grey has his feet on the coffee table, sipping a beer while watching his fighting channel. Before I can even get to why I came out here, I raise a brow and cock my head to the side. He drags his attention to me and stares at me, then at his feet.
“This was my house before you got here,” he mumbles grumpily as he sets his heavy boots on the floor.
I shake his snarky comment away. “Do I look skinnier to you?”
His brows shoot up, and his mouth opens and closes quickly. “Um…h-how am I supposed to know?”
“You know my body, right?” I question.
He narrows his eyes. “Yes?” He sounds hesitant, and I groan. Why can’t he give me a straight answer?
“Do I look the same to you?” I press, putting my balled-up fists on my hips.
Again, he looks like a stupid fish out of water, gasping for words.
“Grey!” I snap.
“Look, babe, I don’t know what to say without you getting mad at me,” he says honestly, raising his palms in the air. “But if I am being honest…you look great, as always.” He flashes me a smirk I know he’s only showing me because he’s scared of what I’ll do to him. But there is no wrong answer. I just want to know if I’m the only one seeing the slight change in me. Guess no. I mean, he’s seen my body all day yesterday and didn’t say anything.
“Fine,” I huff and begin to walk back into the bedroom to finish getting ready.
“Your body is a wonderland!” he yells, and I wave a hand to dismiss him.
I sit at my vanity and let out what’s meant to be a soothing sigh. There is nothing wrong with me; I am okay. It’s just a few pounds lost. Most girls would marvel at this. I ignore the heavy weight sitting on my chest and the need to rub to relieve the pressure. I ignore the blood covering my hand like a glove as I coat my eyelashes with mascara. I ignore all the warning bells that tell me to walk back into the living room and admit to Grey that I am not fine. That I am not recovering like he and I hoped I would. That I very well may be dying slowly, just like he thought I was when I had a tube linked in my chest and my heartbeat was frightfully low.
Pain grips around my every nerve like a maleficent anaconda. I can taste blood on my tongue, but I cannot spit it out. I want to turn my head and vomit up the bile crawling up my airways, but I cannot move. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I feel anything? I squirm and scream and try to open my eyes, but I am only greeted with a low beeping noise and blackness. Darkness. Silence. Cold.
Am I dead?
Why does my arm feel like it’s on fire? Sparks are dancing on my right palm as it is rubbed gently, then is the home to a plush feeling. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in attention when hot air blows on it.
“Princesa, I am here,” a voice I instantly recognize as Grey says. “I am right by your side, and I am not going anywhere. Just…fuck—please, just wake up. Just for me. P-please.”
My chest burns, and I feel my heart rate speed up at the sound of his pleas.
Scuffling sounds, a mixture of high and low beeps to my left.
“Princesa? What’s wrong with her? What the fuck is happening? Someone tell me what’s wrong!” Grey shouts. I try to squeeze his hand that is clenched around mine now. Nothing. I cannot feel him, cannot feel his lips press into my warm skin.
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” a female voice says.
“Fuck that! What’s happening to her?”
A gentle knock snaps me out of That Night.
“You ready?” Grey asks from the open doorway.
I look at him, tightening my shaky hands around the mascara wand. I ignore the blood smeared on his cheeks and give him a chaste nod.
“Yes,” I answer with a half-smile. It’s better than no smile, right?
***
“You know, to be together, you have to get her,” I say as I walk out of the elevator, catching Matthew dreamily staring at Garrett’s assistant, Delilah, with googly eyes. He jumps up in the plush chair, raising the upside-down magazine to cover his face. I hold in my laugh as she walks past without any idea she’s being watched dutifully.
“W-what are you talking about?” Matthew asks, lowering the magazine enough for his sky-blue eyes to gaze up at me.
Delilah briskly walks by, and he squeals and hides behind the magazine.
I barely stifle laughter at my shy friend, turning his “hideout” upright. “I mean, you can’t just w
atch her on the sidelines. Why don’t you ask her out?”
He looks up at me like I’ve completely lost my marbles. “Are you crazy? I can’t—” He tugs me down to crouch behind the sofa chair as she saunters by again, eyes locked in on the open folder in her hands. He shifts his eyes to me, magazine unfurled and covering both of our faces. “I can’t just ask her out. Have you seen her? She’s freaking gorgeous.”
“So?” I shrug, not understanding what the problem is.
“So, she’d never want to go out with me…” he says, almost like he’s guilty of being himself.
I flick him on the forehead.
“Ouch!” he snaps.
“Don’t be stupid. You like her, and she probably likes you too.”
“She doesn’t, though,” he breathes like I am just not getting it.
“How do you know that? Have you even tried talking to her?”
“I just know, and when I do try talking to her, I get all tongue-tied and end up blurting out something stupid.” His cheeks flush bright red, his voice growing soft with each syllable. “There’s no chance in hell she’d ever want to go out with me…”
“Olivia, is that you?” Delilah’s soft-as-cotton voice pierces through what I was about to say.
I shoot up to my feet, and Matthew scrambles up after me, nearly tripping over his loafers. “Delilah, hello!” I wave at her with a smile.
She walks over to us, looking glamorous with her platinum hair swept up in short curls, lips full and red like her blouse and high heels. “Garrett would like to speak with you. I was looking around for you.” Her eyes shift over to a fidgeting Matthew, and her lips curl up just the slightest. “Didn’t think I would find you squatting here by the elevator. Waiting for a package to arrive?”
“No, just…chatting with Matthew here. You know Matthew, right?” I nudge him up to her a bit, and he glares at me, but I decide to ignore it. He’ll thank me for this later.
Grey: New Beginnings (Spectrum Series Book 5) Page 8