by Lindy Zart
This time is no different at the same time it is more.
I WAKE UP TO WARMTH and peace; my eyes not wanting to open and see that the reality of last night was really a dream. When the bed shifts and strong arms wrap around me from behind, a lean form cocooning me, the rigidity leaves my body and I don't want to open my eyes for other reasons. I just want to lay here and bask in the feel of Grayson's arms around me.
I want this every day.
His long fingers stroke my hair. “You awake?” A kiss is placed against my bare shoulder.
“No.”
He chuckles low in his throat and I smile, turning on to my back. My eyes find his and my breath catches at the transformation of him. He looks happy—healed somehow. Most of the shadows are gone from his eyes and his face seems younger, as though the pain he carries has been washed away.
“Do you have to work today?”
“Yes!” I bolt upright. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven.”
I let my body fall back in relief. “Okay. I'm okay.”
“What time do you have to be there?”
“Our first patient is at eight.”
“Go shower.” He kisses my collarbone. “I'll make breakfast.”
Grayson stands and I freeze at the magnificence of his unclothed male form. “What else do you do besides running?” I blurt, unable to take my eyes from his back muscles, and lower.
“Oh,you know.”
“I don't, actually,” I answer faintly, my heart pounding as he turns to face me.
A slow smile, dangerous and seductive, curves his lips as he watches me watching him. “I do some running, some weightlifting, kickboxing.” He shrugs. “Stuff.”
“You look...” I kneel on the bed, hot though I only have a thin sheet against the front of me.
“Like a sexy beast? I know.” He winks and my breath escapes me in a loud exhalation. He tugs on a pair of black boxer briefs and my shoulders slump in disappointment. He catches my look, laughing. “Plenty of time for that, Lily.”
I frown. Will there be? We haven't talked about anything at all; we have been living in the moment, but that has to stop at some point.
Something else clicks when the fog leaves my brain. “You can cook? I thought you couldn't cook.”
“I can cook a few things. Not pancakes,” he adds.
He laughs at the look on my face, yanking the sheet from me before I can even move. It is his turn to go still, the humor falling from his face and desire taking its place. My lips part as he advances. I do not even think to be self-conscious, not with the way his eyes praise my form.
“You're beautiful,” he murmurs, touching my cheek and nothing else. It is strangely erotic and overwhelmingly profound that with my nakedness bared to him, his eyes are locked with mine and his hand is touching nothing by my face.
“So are you.”
His smile softens. “Guys aren't supposed to be beautiful.”
“That's too bad. You are.”
Leaning forward, one knee on the bed, his lips find mine in a fervent, heated kiss. Even as he is laying me back on the blanket, I know his breakfast-making skills are going to be delayed. I really can't feel bad about that, not with the sweet and languid way he is showing me just how beautiful he thinks I am.
MY HEAD AND HEART ARE reeling as I walk up the steps to my apartment building. We have had a perfect twenty-two hours, even though I had to work for eight of those hours. The September air is warm and humid, dampening my hair as I linger in the sun. Though I love all parts of Grayson, even the wild and out of control ones, it is the vulnerable side of him that wrapped around my heart and never released it, even when we were young.
The roar of a motorcycle sounds behind me and I whirl around, my pulse picking up when the black-clad form comes into view. Even with my limited knowledge of vehicles, I recognize his bike as an expensive one. The engine of the black with blue machine cuts off and it is strangely silent after the loudness of the bike.
Grayson pulls a helmet from his head, his smile compelling. “Want to go for a ride?”
“What kind of a bike is this?”
His smile turns predatory. “A fast one.” He adds when I give him a look, “This is a BMW S1000 RR HP4.” He lovingly pats the side of the bike.
“I have no idea what any of that means.”
“A fast one,” he repeats.
“Will it be safe?” I am partially joking. I've never been on a bike before. Well, other than a pedal bike and those aren't exactly fearsome. Usually.
“Safer than you on a bicycle.”
“Sure. Bring that up.” My face burns. I was hoping he'd forgotten about that. I somehow managed to run my bicycle into a telephone pole when I was a kid. It was a disastrous event.
Grayson laughs. “Come on. I got an extra helmet. It'll be fun. We'll go for a short ride. Just remember to lean with me when I make turns. And don't let go.”
After an internal debate that lasts all of five seconds, I shrug. “Okay.”
He hands me a helmet and helps me with the strap. “Ready?”
I nod, swallowing thickly.
“Hop on.”
I fling my leg around the bike and straddle Grayson's backside; the position and the way my body molds to his wildly erotic though there is nothing sexual about it. The engine flares to life and I squeeze my eyes shut when the bike soars forward.
The first five minutes or so are spent with me berating myself. What was I thinking? I am going to die. There is nothing between us and the road but air, nothing to save us if Grayson wrecks. When the bike remains level and Grayson's motions sure and precise, I feel myself loosening up. I straighten my back, lessen my death grip around his hard waist, and open my eyes.
The world goes by in flashes of color, the wind unrelenting as it collides with our bodies. I feel alive. The speed is fast and when we are once again back at the apartment building, I am both relieved and disappointed. I get off the motorcycle with legs that shake, a smile plastered to my lips.
Grayson stands and immediately pulls me into his arms, the leather and deodorant smell of him intoxicating. “How was it?”
“It was awesome! But really fast. How fast were we going?”
“About thirty miles an hour,” he says, laughing at my crestfallen expression.
“That's it?”
“That's it. We stayed in town. You aren't properly attired for a real ride. We can go again if you want, on a day trip. Then we'll go faster.”
“I want to.”
“Saturday?”
“Yes!”
His lips twitch at my exuberance. “Do you have a date for tonight?”
“What's tonight?”
“Eddie and the Platypires are playing at Jackie's Bar, remember?”
“Oh.” Some of my excitement fades. “Yeah. I'm supposed to go with Garrett and Emily and Mia.”
His body stiffens. “I see,” he says without emotion.
“Maybe...” I look at him, my teeth finding my lower lip. I know he isn't exactly Mia's biggest fan and he has made his feelings for Garrett obvious, but they are my friends, so I ask, “Maybe we could all hang out?”
Grayson's mouth opens and I know he is going to say no, but then he sighs. “Yeah. I think I can handle that.”
I brighten, throwing my arms around his neck. “It'll be fun, I promise.”
“I don't know about that,” he says, but a smile is teasing his lips. “Can I pick you up?”
“Absolutely. In a car.”
He laughs. “I thought you liked it?”
“I did, but I need to ease myself into it, one terrifying, amazing moment at a time.”
“Got it. I'll come back in a few hours.” He kisses my lips. “Until then.”
THE MEMBERS OF EDDIE AND the Platypires are setting up their equipment. Ana Love is bartending, though only non-alcoholic beverages will be served tonight. I've only seen the pretty blonde in passing and not much since Grayson moved awa
y, so I don't understand her current preoccupation with me. She has a mysterious smile on her face every time our eyes happen to meet. It's creepy.
The bar is divided into two rooms; one where the band is setting up and the dance floor is located, and the actual bar area where most of the tables and chairs are. A lot of middle schoolers and even some high school kids are here. Grayson's parents are present as well, sitting a few tables over from us. They look like they are on a date, talking to each other and smiling. I notice Grayson watching them from time to time, the look on his face as if he is trying to figure something out and can't.
All in all, I think the turn out is pretty good for an unknown junior high school band. That is something I love about Fennimore; it is small enough that the community works as a whole to be supportive—something that doesn't always happen with bigger cities.
Grayson and I are the only ones wearing neon yellow Eddie and the Platypires tee shirts. The shirts feature a creature with bat wings and ears and the face of a platypus. Whoever thought this being up is probably more than a little out there, but I have to admire their ingenuity. Over the picture is the band name in black, bold letters.
“Ana is happy,” Grayson comments, laughing when she tells him he should be helping her.
“I see that. She keeps looking at me and smiling.”
“Want to know why?” He turns to me.
“Why?”
“Because we're here together. She's been rooting for us since day one.”
“Well, I'm glad at least she's happy about it.”
He laughs. “So am I.” I never noticed how much Grayson didn't laugh until he started doing it more. He has been laughing a lot the last day.
“So are you disgustingly rich now?” Mia asks, sipping her water.
Grayson strokes my shoulder, sending chills up my back. “Yep,” is his cheerful response.
She chokes on her water, clearly not expecting that as an answer.
Garrett is eyeing him from across the table, though Emily keeps distracting him enough to keep things civil.
“Lily, I need to go to the bathroom,” Mia announces, standing up.
I frown at her. “So go.”
“I need help. With my dress.” She points to her back, staring at me pointedly.
With a sigh, I follow her into the small pink bathroom. The mirror is cracked and the porcelain of the toilet is faded from white to off-white, but everything in the room is clean. The air freshener smells like fresh linen and poofs into the air directly above my head.
“What's up?” I ask.
“So are you guys...” Her eyebrows lift.
I purse my lips. “Are we...what?”
“Together? Like, everything is okay now?”
I turn to the mirror, studying my flushed cheeks and bright eyes. I haven't look this happy in a long time. I touch my hot cheek, meeting Mia's eyes in the reflection. “I think so.”
“But you don't know?”
“We haven't talked about anything. I think we're both just kind of enjoying the moment.”
Her eyes narrow. “And what happens when the wedding is over? Is he going back to California?”
My good mood evaporates. “I don't know. I guess.” I don't mention that I don't even know if he is still with Megan or not. I have to think he broke things off, but he didn't bring it up, so how do I know?
“You need to figure these things out, Lily, so you don't get hurt again. You need to talk to him about what happens next instead of just focusing on what's happening now.”
“I know that,” I say, a little harsher than I mean to.
Mia flinches and then her face softens. “I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just...I'm trying to look out for you.”
“It's okay. I'm okay. But thank you.” My tone is stiff. I do not want my temporary happiness with Grayson tainted with reality and she is trying to shove it at me. Forcing a lightness to my voice I don't feel, I ask, “How about you? Have you talked to Ben?”
Her eyes go unfocused and a dreamy smile curves her lips. “Yeah. Things are good. I mean, the long-distance bit sucks, but hopefully it is only temporary. We're getting along really well and we promised each other we aren't going to do anything with anyone else until we figure out what we want.”
“Good. That's good.”
We leave the rest room and Grayson immediately finds me with his eyes. A smile curves his mouth as I approach. Why can't this be mine permanently? I sit down, my fingers finding his under the table. He gives my hand a squeeze, his grip firm and steady. Just my hand in his gives me enough strength to think that we can have this.
Eddie and the Platypires starts up. They sound better, more in sync and flowing, than at the practice I witnessed. And Bentley on lead vocals is amazing. Although not as deep, his voice is almost as good as Grayson's; throaty yet somehow beautiful.
“Do you normally have bodyguards with you?” Garrett asks when the band takes a ten minute break.
Grayson's eyes slide to his face. “Normally.”
“How'd you get out of having them here?”
“I don't need them here,” he answers simply. “And even in California, I usually get left alone. I mean, the worst that's ever happened to me is being taken by surprise by a fan. One of my band members had it a little worse than that, though, so I like to be cautious in the bigger cities. Anything can happen.”
“What happened to your band member?” Mia asks, sipping lemon water through a straw, her lips perfectly pursed around it.
“He was mugged and beat up. The fact that he was drunk probably didn't work in his favor either.”
“I remember reading about that. It was the drummer, right? Matthew Jones,” Emily exclaims, surprising us all by actually speaking. She is a normally quiet person and when in social settings, she becomes partially mute.
Grayson nods, smiling at her. “Yes. That's right.”
I see jealousy sift through Garrett's eyes and want to laugh at the turnabout. He notices me watching him and turns his glower on me. I just roll my eyes and shake my head. He gets a sheepish look on his face and shrugs.
“I'm going into law enforcement,” he says, steering the conversation and Grayson's attention back to him.
“Easier to cover up your illegal activities that way,” Grayson says with a nod.
Garrett's face tightens and then he does something surprising—he laughs. “That's my ultimate plan.”
A small smile captures Grayson's lips. “I figured. You always were a sneaky bastard.”
“Hey, if you ever need some backup, give me a call.”
“So you can use police brutality on me? No, thank you.”
“Asshole,” Garrett states, but he is smiling.
The earlier tension fades as the night goes on and our table is filled with colorful conversations and laughter. Aidan's band does a decent job, ending with one of Thrush's songs and Grayson singing backup vocals to Bentley. It is a perfect night and the finishing touch is Grayson wanting to be with me as we sleep.
WE HAVE EXACTLY TWO WEEKS until the wedding. The days are going much too fast, each one a countdown to the real world. I spend every day with Grayson; the only time I am away from him is when I am at work, and that is torture.
I notice something about me—I didn't think I could love him more than I already did, but that isn't true. Somehow it has grown over our recent time together. Our love started when we were young, and though two years isn't that long within the span of a lifetime, it is long enough to learn new things about the world and about yourself. It is enough time to mature and figure some things out.
My love for Grayson is deep and without end. I love him with my whole being; I love all the bad and all the good; all of his imperfections are beautiful to me. I love everything he is and could be, everything he ever was and can no longer be. How am I going to say goodbye again? I keep hoping he will tell me he has decided to stay, but no such words are spoken.
It is early yet and I
decide to go for a run to work off some of the restless energy plaguing me. The morning air is crisp and chilly and the sky is overcast and gray. The longer I run, the more it calms me. I head toward the high school, surprised to find Grayson running his own laps.
I warm up and find my stride and Grayson slows to match mine. His hair is damp, looking almost pale brown without the sun to highlight it. A turquoise shirt with the sleeves ripped off and gray athletic shorts hug his tall form. He glances over and flashes a grin. My pulse, already worked up, goes chaotic as I grin back.
I can almost believe we are back in high school, that we are best friends and nothing else, and that life, although not perfect, is so much easier—easier, but not better. Then he yanks me to him mid-stride to taunt and tease my mouth with his and the fantasy falls away. I respond, running my fingers up his sleek back and digging them into his scalp. Our lower halves meet and I moan low in my throat.
Something wet splatters me; the droplets growing in volume and strength. The light sprinkling turns into a downpour as we stand on the track and look at each other. Then we laugh. I put my arms out and spin around with my head tipped back. It isn't long before I am once again in Grayson's arms, this time on the cool, wet lawn in the middle of the track. His body keeps me warm, the fire of his passion igniting mine. My clothes are soaked with rainwater, but it doesn't matter.
“I don't want this to end,” he murmurs against my lips, his eyes locked on mine.
“Me either.”
He grins, his face lighting up. “Let's not let it.” He pulls me to my feet, holding me in his arms as he rests his chin on the top of my head. I am not sure what he means by that. Is that a promise of permanence to what we have or a wish that things were different?
The moment is pretty perfect and I don't want to ruin it, but I have to know about Megan. “Grayson.”
“Yeah?”
I take a deep breath. “What about Megan?”
His body stiffens around me and he asks slowly, “What about her?”
I move away, blinded by rain and doubts. “You haven't brought her up.”
Grayson's confusion is palpable. “Why would I?”
“Did you break up with her or not?”