“I was just wondering if you’d…like to watch Max while I shake my ass for some dollar bills?” Her voice goes up several octaves.
My eyes widen. “What?”
She lets out an annoyed breath. “I’m not a stripper. I just…I kinda work part-time as a sparkler girl, who occasionally shakes her ass to the beat in the club.”
A pause.
Then, “Huh?”
“Olivia,” she groans. “You know those sparkler things you see girls walk around with in the club? I do that as a small hustle thing. They need me tonight at The Grind, and I don’t have anyone to watch my boy. The bitch of a sitter keeps fucking canceling on me. I’m gonna fire her ass. See how she pays for her grandma’s meds then.”
“I’m fine with that.” I smile uneasily. “I’ll text you my address and meet you down front.”
“Kay-kay, thank you. You are the legit best!” she squeals.
Half an hour later, I’m ushering Max into the apartment. “Do you want some apple juice? Maybe some veggie…chips? Carrots, maybe?” I ask, sounding like an idiot. All we have as snacks are healthy, not junk food for kids. And Grey. I’ve been trying to instill that eating healthy should be a main priority considering Grey’s profession. I didn’t know I’d be entertaining a five year old.
He looks up at me with his huge green eyes, shakes his head.
“Okay.” I watch in curiosity as he walks over to the TV, as if gravitating to it like a magnet. He did the same thing when I watched him in the office. Huh…is he naturally shy, or is there something going on in that little brain of his? Lily told me that he’s incredibly shy and barely talks, but why? Is it a disorder? Is that why Lily is pursuing child psychology, to understand him?
Or he just doesn’t like you.
I think he’s just naturally shy, thank you very much.
I sit a few feet from him after rolling up my blanket and putting my mug in the sink. “What do you want to watch?” I ask him, and he just looks at me. He gives me a shrug a few seconds after, then turns back to flipping through the channels at rapid speed. He must be a professional channel-surfer.
I pick up my book to resume where I’ve left off. He’s by my side, staring at the open pages with fascination and curiosity. I look at the book, then at him, the book…
“Would you like to read?” I ask softly, offering the book to him. I’ve read the story about a million times already. I’m sure I can let him give it a shot at least once.
He shakes his head, looking guilty as he picks at his nails.
I lean down and whisper, “Want me to read to you?”
He looks up at me, and I am graced by my first smile from him. Jagged, missing teeth, bright emerald eyes, fluffy, curly blond hair. He nods frantically, blond ringlets bouncing all around like excited springs. He’s the cutest thing ever!
“Okay.” I chuckle and lean back on the arm of the chair. Before I can say anything, he’s snuggled into my side and pulled the blanket on top of us. I stare at him in utter adoration, tears of so much want tugging at my heart.
“R-read,” his weak little voice mumbles, tapping the page. Blinking up at me. Once. Twice. Thrice.
“Okay.” I nod a little, holding back the pathetic tears. Slowly, I begin reading the pages. I don’t even have to look at it; I already know this story like the back of my hand. I read with ease and fluidly, projecting my interpretations of the character’s voice and the overall tone of the story. He laughs at the funny parts, whimpers at the sad parts, and sighs when everything is just content.
“What the ever loving fuck is this?” Grey’s voice booms behind us.
I jump out of shock, and Max scrambles to the other side of the couch like a skittish kitten, facing the wall as he clutches a throw pillow.
“Grey,” I seethe, and he gives me a “what the fuck did I do?” look. Rolling my eyes, I slowly inch over to Max, trying not to let my questions over his reaction to Grey popping out of nowhere overtake me. “Max?” I gently touch his shoulder, and he screams like a banshee and rips around, staring up at me with wide frightened eyes and a quickly beating chest.
My heart breaks.
“Oh, sweetie! I am so sorry. I didn’t know he would scare you,” I apologize, sitting next to him but a few inches away to give him space.
“D-don’t do…d-don’t,” he struggles to speak as he pants. His face is so red.
“Oh my God, are you having a panic attack?” I shoot to my feet and try to think of what I can do to help. “Grey, get a glass of water!” I order.
He’s a little bust staring but finally leaves and comes back with a glass full of water.
“Here you go, sweetie.” I offer the glass to Max, but his eyes get wider and he tries to run away from me. The look of trauma shines in his eyes. “Please, I promise I won’t hurt you.”
He looks into my eyes, scanning my features for my deceit, but after what feels like an eternity, he decides to trust me. He takes the tall glass with shaky hands. I smile softly and turn on the TV, placing it on a cartoon for him to watch.
“Here, I’m going to make some cookies. Would you like that?”
He eyes me, not fully trusting me, but he slowly nods.
“What kind would you like, honey?” I speak gently, terrified of scaring him again.
“C-choc…” is all he gets out before flushing red, guilty, and stares at his water.
“Coming right up, buddy.” I want to playfully ruffle his hair, but I think he’d jump out of the window in fright. I stand up and drag Grey into the kitchen with me.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Grey whisper-hisses.
“I’m watching him while Lily works,” I hiss right back at him, taking out a sheet pan.
“Doesn’t she have other friends?” He sounds extremely annoyed.
“Yes, I’m sure. But I was bored waiting for you, and I wanted to watch him,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes. I ignore it as I pre-heat the oven.
“Why would you want to watch some little annoying kid?” he questions me, and I just break.
I slam down the butter harder than I intended. “Because it’s the closest I can get to one without actually having a child of my own.”
His eyes widen, flashing with hurt, guilt, then, of course, anger. “If you want one so damn badly, why are you still with me?” he seethes before stomping out of the kitchen. I am frozen, even as the bedroom door slams shut. I swallow thickly and turn and grab onto the counter. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I don’t know where what I said came from. Sure, I’d been thinking it, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. And he wants me to break up with him? I know what I said hurt him, but he doesn’t have to throw it in my face how much of a deal-breaker children are.
I make the cookies in a heart-breaking silence.
“All ready,” I announce after swiping away some tears. I’ve left the cookies to cool for over half an hour, and the entire time I’ve been crying and wishing Grey would come back out and take his words back. I’ve already stuffed mine back in my “do not say” drawer. But he never does. Not that I really expected him to, though.
Max looks up from my book, and my heart warms as he grins up at me before running over. I lower the pan for him, and he nabs the biggest one. I laugh through my silent tears and walk back into the kitchen. I take one for myself and sit beside him on the couch. I sit on my spot next to the arm, and he hesitantly crawls over to me, like he’s afraid I’ll pounce on him. What happened to him to make him this afraid?
“I won’t bite, I promise.” I hold out my pinky, and his eyes glisten before he latches his smaller finger with mine.
We fall back into our rhythm and comfortable silence we were entranced in before Grey rudely interrupted. About fifteen minutes later, the couch shifts and loud shouting and cheering sounds. I look over Max’s curls and find Grey sitting on the couch, eating one of the cookies. My heart churns as he tenses his shoulders, feeling my eyes on him. I sigh and get back to reading, trying to i
gnore the noise like Max has. He is so intrigued and lost in the story, it fills my heart so much, I think it’s going to burst.
“Shit,” Grey curses, shifting in the couch when one of the sweaty men gets knocked down. “Get the fuck back up, Rodriguez!”
Max mumbles beneath his voice.
Brave, I brush his curls back. “What was that, hun?”
He looks up at me and grins proudly before saying, “Shit, fuck Rodriguez!”
I gasp and sit up, looking over at Grey who raises a brow. “Um, y-you shouldn’t say those words, Max.”
“R-Rodriguez?” he stutters, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy. Oh, the cute poor thing.
“No, the other two words,” I say.
“Oh…shut, fuck!” he exclaims.
“Nah, more like shit, fuck!” Grey corrects him.
“Don’t correct him!” I hiss incredulously.
He shrugs. “Just helping the little dude out.”
“Shit, fuck!” Max repeats.
Grey smiles smugly. “There you go,” he mouths, and my stomach flutters. This cannot be happening. Lily trusted me to watch her child, and he’s swearing like the little sailor that could.
“Max, you shouldn’t be saying those words.”
“They’re swear words,” Grey surprisingly adds. He seems kind of entertained by this wild conversation.
Max nods. “I know.”
“Then why are you repeating me?” Grey asks, looking the child up and down.
“Because I like fucking with you.” Max smiles. This is the most I’ve heard him talk, and this is what he chooses to say!
To my astonishment and utter horrification, Grey smiles back.
“Okay, that’s enough influencing the child, don’t you think?” I laugh nervously. “Please stop cursing, Max. For my sake. Your mother will kill me, and it’s just not appropriate for a five year old.”
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket.
Lily texts,
I’m here.
Something’s wrong. I can tell by her lack of exclamation points and the overall tone. She is a giddy person who’s usually high-spirited. This text sounds like she’s been drained of it.
“Your mother’s here. I have to walk you down. Come on.” I stand, and he follows suit, doing a cute little nod at Grey. Grey’s smirk grows, and he re-directs his attention to the TV of fighting men. I put most of the cookies into a Ziploc bag and walk him down to his mother. She’s leaning against the passenger side of the car, and she looks…off. Jittery and constantly looking around through her long dark hair. Like she’s waiting for someone to pounce on her at any moment.
“Are you okay?” I ask Lily.
“Yup. Just gotta get home. I’m exhausted,” she replies hastily, opening the back door. Max slides in, and she closes the door, beginning to round the hood of the car to get in.
“Wait.” I grab her hand and pull her to face me. She looks up, and I gasp, stepping back. There’s a reddish-purple bruise under her right eye, and her bottom lip is split open. “Who did this to you?” I demand to know.
“No one. I’ve got to go.” She brushes off my words like this is nothing, but this is everything!
“Lily, who hurt you?” I ask again, firmer this time.
“I’ve gotta go.” She breaks free from my hold and runs to the driver side. She gives me a look that says to back off before getting in the car and speeding into the night.
“Like hell I will,” I say with determination.
Chapter Forty-Eight
I roll over and stare up at the ceiling, admitting that I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to ever since Max left. Lily’s bloody and bruised face pops up in my mind every time I try to put it to the side. I just can’t stop wondering what happened to her, and who the heck did it? Was it a clubber who had a little bit too much to drink, try things with her and, when she refused, he took it out on her? Was she mugged as she was leaving the club? Why did she leave so suddenly when I could have helped her in some way, like call the police and report her attack, whatever kind it was? A million questions plague my mind.
I’ve tried calling her, asking about last night. But she hasn’t responded to my calls nor my texts. That makes me one hundred times more worried. I would go to her house and make sure she is okay, but I have no idea where she lives. When all else failed via text and calls, I decided to dial Matthew. He was there at the club last night. Maybe he saw something? He could have possibly tried to defend her against the attacker, and before he could take her home, she fled. Then why isn’t he answering his phone either? I know him, and I know he’d pick up on the first call.
The both of them not answering has me stressed. I just wish someone would tell me what happened last night. I might explode if I’m left to worry myself any longer.
Grey appears above my face like a dark angel answering my silent prayer. His curly hair is slicked with water, his body naked and soaked. I watch with a dry mouth as water glides down his hard and toned stomach. He could not be any hotter if tried.
“Shower with me,” he says, more like demands.
“Huh?” I tilt my head at him. Last night I accidentally brought up a sore issue for us, and he suggested I leave him. He knows I’d never leave him. That’s why it still hurts. I feel like I’m chained to his hip, unable to break free. That’s a messed-up way of thinking, but it’s true. I love him too much to leave, and I hate myself for it.
“I said to come shower with me,” he repeats with an eye roll. “I feel lonely, and I want you with me.”
My heart swoons at his words, but my brain shakes its head at me. Disappointed with how easy I become in his hands. He calls, and I run to him. I promised I’d always run to him and never away, but at what cost? My future? My dream? My potential family…?
“I don’t think I should,” I finally say, letting my brain win this battle of tug-of-war.
Being the man he is, he doesn’t take no as an answer. Not even a variation of no. He scoops me up, and I can only sigh, letting my heart swoon under his strong arms. He takes us into the bathroom and sets me on the sink. I hold his intense, dark gaze as he takes off my tank top. I felt freezing last night, despite the heavy comforter covering my body. I usually sleep in his shirts, his clothes, have him wrapped up behind me. But ever since those brief but painful words we exchanged, something shifted in us. Something for the worse.
“Do you think we’re right for one another?” I ask Grey after a while of us standing under the water, silent, too wrapped up in our thoughts to speak.
He tilts my head back, a scowl stitched on his curved lips. “Why would you ask something like that?”
“Because of…this.” I gesture to his hand. “I love you, I do…but sometimes I think it’s a little bit too much. Like, like I’m pushing away everything I’ve dreamed of for you. Because I’m scared of what life would be like without you.”
He drops his hand and sighs. “Will you marry me?”
My heart skips several beats, and I gape for words. “What?” My voice is low, chalky.
“Your eyes lit up just now. Now, I love you. They’re still shining like the fucking sun.”
“You’re sick.”
“No, I’m proving a point.”
I turn away from him, tears flowing down my face. “You can’t just ask someone to marry you, then withdraw it like that, Grey. It’s fucked up on so many levels.”
He steps forward and shakes his head like he doesn’t understand. “Why isn’t my love enough for you to just be with me? Why do you need a whole production and a signed paper? Why do you need constant headaches running around? Why can’t I be what you want right now and twenty years into the future?”
“Because I’ve always dreamed of more. I didn’t think I’d find the love of my life, nor did I prepare for him to be so adamant on things I’ve always looked forward to.” I look into his eyes and listen to the water beat against his back, watch his chest rise and fall. “What do
you have against children and marriage anyway?”
He shakes his head as if to wave the question away. “Why are we talking about this? You’re nineteen, I’m twenty-two; can’t we talk about how your finals are coming up? Be together without the pressure of rings binding us together forever? Sleep in all day because we can be lazy and not worry about kids screaming waking us up? I want that with you. Sleeping and talking and kissing you and being with you.” He gently pushes me back to touch the wall.
“I want all of that with you, but I also want us to have possibilities of much more. It doesn’t have to be now. I am not saying we have to go buy baby clothes or pick out wedding dresses…I just want the possibility of us together…forever.”
He bangs his fists on the wall beside me, making me reverberate and scream in shock. “Stop fucking talking about this. Please. Give me five years, ten, all the time in the fucking world. Just—stop. I can’t think about this anymore, because I don’t want it. And I meant it last night when I said you can leave.”
I watch cautiously as he breathes heavily, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Okay.”
He removes his fingers and looks me up and down. “What do you mean okay?”
“I mean I will drop every single one of my dreams for you, because you’re worth it all, Grey.” I smile forcibly so that my cheeks hurt. “Does that make you feel better to know that you’ve won, sedated a part of me that wants what you refuse to even think about?”
“You know what…yes!” He throws his hands up.
“Fuck you!” I yell.
“Why don’t you do that instead of going on and on about something that I will never change my mind about?” He’s losing it. He’s flipped that disorder switch in his brain. I can see it in the throbbing veins under his inked skin, eyes blazing like hellfire.
“Do it yourself. I’m leaving.” I dodge his hands coming for mine and step out of the shower. Quickly wrapping a towel around myself, I exit the bathroom with him hot on my heels. He spins me into his bare chest when we enter the bedroom.
Grey: New Beginnings (Spectrum Series Book 5) Page 32