Wednesday comes faster than I thought it would. The days fly by, with me scrambling to pack, making sure I had everything I needed, and stressing over how my family will react to Grey. I already know how my mother will act, but not my other family members.
A small part of me wished Grey in fact wore loafers and cardigans and told corny jokes and was a part of the local baseball team, but I shot that part of me down and loathed myself for even thinking it in the first place. I like Grey the way he is now. He shouldn’t have to conform into something they will appreciate, because I don’t want him to change.
He may be a condescending asshole with terrible judgment sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sickly sweet and funny. He’s like a bittersweet taffy. And boy, do I have a sweet tooth for him. May be bad for my teeth, but the way he makes me feel is completely worth it.
I check my suitcase one last time. My eyes scan over every single item. I look at the list in my hands and check everything off.
“Iron pills? Check. Sleeping pills? Check. Birth control? Check. Underwear?” I use my pen to lift the cardigans on top and eye the lacy underwear and bras. Blushing, I drop the cardigans and make a check on the list. “Check.”
“You have checked that list five hundred times, Liv,” Grey whines behind me. “Santa isn’t even as meticulous as you, and the fucker has to fly around the world. I’m sure you have everything you need.”
“There isn’t anything wrong with making sure,” I tell him, crossing off nightgowns. I tap the end of my pen against each item, then spin around to find him laying on Julia’s bed with a pillow covering his face. “Do you have everything you need?” I ask him as I flip the page of my planner.
He lifts the pillow and raises his brows at me. “If you mean underwear and shirts, which is all I need, then yes. I have everything.”
“What about socks and clean pants and—”
He jumps off the bed and, with long strides, walks over to me and wraps his arms around me. “I have you, don’t I?” He tips my chin up to meet his dazzling smile.
“I guess…” I mumble, and he chuckles before pecking my nose. I scrunch it up, and he rolls his eyes before falling back onto my bed, making the luggage bounce. I catch it before it can fall on the ground. I’d have to repack everything, and he’s already getting pissy.
I close the luggage and roll it to the door.
“Now, here’s the plan for the next five days—” I start to say.
“Why do we need plans?” He groans and leans on his elbows, casting me a look of amusement. “What’d I tell you about making plans? You don’t need them if you can’t see the future.”
“I can when it comes to my family.” I point the pen at him, and he shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. “Now, as I was saying—when we arrive, my grandmother and parents will greet us at the door—”
“How do you know this?” he cuts me off.
“My grandmother has a tendency to be skittish, and she likes to sit by the door in case of fires.” So adorable, that woman.
He bites down a laugh. “Is she a cat or something?”
“Don’t you make fun of my gammie,” I warn him, narrowing my eyes for emphasis.
He holds up his hands in defense, but that loathsome grin doesn’t leave his face.
“Anyway, it will take two to three minutes, depending on how long Gammie spends twirling me around and emphasizing how big I’ve gotten and hitting on you.” I hold up an assuring hand. “But she won’t bite. Promise.”
“If she does, I bet her dentures would cling to my skin.” He barks in laughter. I admire how tickled he is, clutching his stomach for support. Just the thought of that happening makes laughter rise in my throat and escape my lips before I can hold it back.
“Stop making fun of her,” I demand. He waves a hand at me but keeps quiet. “After that, we will migrate to the living room where my dad will make vague comments about your tattoos, but don’t worry, he’s not being mean, he just doesn’t talk a lot and will be nervous about how you look—”
“You mean he’ll be absolutely stunned by my dazzling aura of sexual desire?” he suggests with a twisted face of “seduction” while gesturing up toward his body. I laugh and shake my head.
“Stop distracting me,” I whine and scuffle forward, nudging his foot hanging off the bed. I look back down at the clipboard to avoid his eyes. “After that we’ll be escorted to our room by Louise, and then—”
I am cut off by his obnoxiously loud grunt. I scowl at him as he sits up and pulls me in between his legs. He buries his head in my light blue cashmere top that matches my eyes. He says, matched with my jeans and the bow in my hair, I look adorable enough to eat. But I don’t know which way he means…
“Stop talking. Stop planning. We will go with the flow and have fun,” he mumbles into the soft fabric.
“What fun do you anticipate we will have?” I ask curiously and put my planner down, playing with the tendrils of his hair. I tug gently, and he purrs deeply.
“You know, the pool slides and arcade game you guys have. And I’ve always wanted to pull pranks on a butler.”
I chuckle and tip his chin back; he looks up at me with the widest eyes and the most precious smile. He reminds me of a hopeful child.
“There is none of that, Grey,” I say, kind of thrown off. Is that really what he thinks I was raised up with? “It’s just an obnoxiously large house to show off to family and friends. Nothing more. But if I really wanted the best childhood, they could have added a bookstore.”
His face drops. “Seriously?” I nod. He grunts, burying his face in my stomach once again. “That was the only reason I agreed to go.”
“Hey!” I pull his head back, and he snickers lightly.
“Joking,” he breathes, reaching down to intertwine our fingers together. He stays silent for a long time with an upsetting frown. “It’s not too late for me to stay. I haven’t been around parents in a long time, and I—”
I crash my lips into his and straddle his lap. He slowly falls back until he hits the bed. I yelp into his mouth when he pinches my butt. He laughs at my expense, but it’s cut off when I reach down and grip his bulge. It’s my turn to laugh. Rolling his eyes, he leans up and takes my face in his hands before pressing my lips onto mine.
Sensual, sweet, and growing into something more. Something we do not have time for.
I splay my hands on his chest and sit up. “Was that enough for you to forget about your silly little doubt?” I ask breathlessly.
He shrugs nonchalantly, and goosebumps raise on my arm when he runs a finger up and down. “I could use a little more persuading…” The smile he flashes nearly makes me swoon. A buzzing sound slices through my words, and he waggles his eyebrows. “I don’t remember you having these panties.” He winks, and I burst into titillating laughter.
“Or it’s just my phone?” I suggest in a condescending tone as I retrieve my phone and wave it in the air.
“I’m gonna stick with the vibrating panties,” he says with a huff and gleaming black eyes.
I roll my eyes and swipe my finger across the screen, answering the call. “Hello?”
“Ms. Westerfield, I’m outside,” Trevor informs me.
I nod and smile even though he can’t see me. “Thanks, we’ll be down soon. Bye, Trevor.” I hang up the phone and slip it back in my pocket.
I begin to crawl back to stand up, but Grey wraps his hands around my wrists and yanks me forward. “What?” The look in his eyes makes me lose my breath.
“Who the fuck is Trevor?” he growls.
***
We arrive three hours later. The entire way I’ve been a giant ball of nerves, but it didn’t stop me from trying to soothe my bouncing knee and raging thoughts. I played with Grey’s fingers, planned and planned and planned until I had every second of every day in my agenda, and continued writing for my entry in the elite program. But none of it stopped me from wondering: Is this going to come crashing down before we actually get to Thanksgiving?
“We have arrived, Ms. Westerfield,” Trevor announces as we pull up in front of the granite steps.
“My fist will arrive in his face,” Grey mutters under his breath, and his bicep twitches under my touch.
I nudge him with my knee and hold back a smile. He is absolutely endearing when he feels threatened. But by Trevor? The guy owns N*Sync CDs and enjoys long walks on the beach with his boyfriend. I would have assured Grey that Trevor isn’t nor will he ever be interested in me in that way, but where’s the fun in that?
Grey regards the mansion with wide eyes and an extra hard grip on my hand.
“Stop it,” I whisper in his ear, but he still pelts the back of Trevor’s head with bullets. I roll my eyes but grip his hand harder as the SUV comes to a halt. “I hope you’re ready for sultry winks from a ninety year old,” I joke, and he raises his eyebrows.
“I hope you’re ready to reward me for the brutal bullshit your mother’s about to put me through,” he quips back. I look away. He crooks a finger under my chin and swivels my head to meet his eyes. “Hey, now. I’m Grey Wyler. If you have forgotten, I’ll remind you: I have pretty tough skin, and I have handled enough angry girls obsessed with me to manage your dragon of a mother.”
“She is not a—”
He puts a finger to my lips and smiles. “I think we’re done stalling here, don’t you? Let’s get this over with.” I sigh, having gotten caught, but let him take my hand and guide me out of the car. He slaps Trevor’s offered hand out of the way and nearly pounces on him.
“Come on, Alpha,” I joke, tugging at his hand. He begrudgingly follows me up the steps, taking in the massive columns and massive oak wood front door.
I give him a half-smile before turning to the door and ringing the obnoxiously fancy doorbell. I fiddle with my charms and wonder if I’m doing the right thing. It’s not too late to turn back. We can spend the break in a hotel. There’s a nice five-star half an hour away from here.
“Don’t be nervous, princesa,” he says, taking my hand in his.
“I can’t help it.”
He sighs.
“Fine, then I’ll just have to find a way to…calm you down,” he whispers against my ear, his breath causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand. I freeze and nearly melt in the palm of his hand as it rests on my lower back and curves around my waist to hitch onto the waist of my jeans.
Is he crazy? My family is on their way to open the door—oh, his fingers are brushing against my panty line.
“Grey,” I say softly and turn my head, brushing my lips against his chin as he lowers his head. I can feel the smirk as he presses his lips to my neck. Oh, fuck it.
I turn and throw my arms around him, bringing his face down to connect with his lips. They’re soft, inviting, and open, but the moment I open mine too, I hear a distinct sound of someone clearing their throat.
We both turn our heads to find my grandmother with an unsettling smirk, my father looking like he’s a deer caught in headlights, and my dear mother cutting me open with a deadly glare behind an enchanting grin.
“Olivia, you made it. And you brought…Grey with you,” Mother says with venom steeped into her words.