A loud, reverberating sound by my right ear wakes me up. With lazy bones, I raise my head. I blink and lean into the pillow beneath my head to avoid the death glare from the sun. Grey and I fell asleep very late last night after we watched movies on the couch and drank. It was hard to say no to him. I’ve come to learn that he can be very persuasive, if you know what I mean…
A slightly intoxicated giggle leaves my lips, mumbling into the pillow. I stop when a loud clang sounds. My phone. I turn my head and blindly reach a hand down to pick it up. I stumble around, and once I find it, I pull it up and press it to my ear.
“Hello?” I groan and sniffle. This had better be important because I am not completely in the mood right now.
“Olivia Westerfield? Why do you sound like that? Are you in cla—?” It’s my mother. And her rapidly questioning me doesn’t quite help with my hangover.
“Shhh,” I cut her off and say, “I’ll talk to you later, Mother.”
“You will not—”
I silence my phone and drop it to the floor. I don’t feel like talking to her at the moment.
I turn around and snuggle into Grey’s chest. His snores tickle my ear, and I chuckle and wrap my arms around him. There is nothing better than this. Being in his arms. I feel so content and complete. At peace. I like how connected we feel, like we were meant to be like this. It’s a lot better than the constant fighting and my overthinking and him being cold and puzzling. I just want this to last. It’s easier this way.
I writhe slightly when my stomach suddenly feels heavy and moan out, “Grey, let go of me. I have to pee,” I whisper and nudge my chest against his.
He snores in response.
I groan and lean forward against his face and say a little louder, “I have to pee!”
He growls like a predatory bear and tightens his arms. “No,” is all he mumbles, his nose twitching like an adorable bunny.
“Aw,” I say and almost pinch his cheek, but the tingling feeling down there intensifies, and I groan and lean back in protest, trying to wriggle free from his boa-like hold.
“Mi princesa…”
“Your princesa has to pee,” I grumble back and try to sit up, but he pulls me back down and into his chest. “Grey,” I moan his name but can’t help but smile when he kisses my neck.
“Don’t leave me,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“If you let me go, I’ll—” I lean toward his ear and whisper the rest, too naughty to repeat in my thoughts.
A lazy smile washes over his lips, and he nearly pushes me off the bed and hums, “Have the greatest piss of your life.”
I laugh and jog around the bed. I knew that would make him release me.
“Were you lying?” he groans in an annoyed tone as he rolls over to glare at me. I know I’m supposed to be intimidated by his boiling hot glare and the click of his sharp jaw, but I can’t get over how adorable he looks.
“Yeah.” I nod and open the door. “Get up, we have school.”
“Don’t feel like it,” he grumbles as he shifts into his pillow.
“Too bad. I can’t miss any more classes.”
“You missed one day,” he protests.
“Exactly. Get up.” I pick up one of his stained shirts littering the ground—I have the strongest urge to clean his room—and throw it at his head. He turns over and pins me with a laser beam-like scowl. I arch my eyebrows and head toward the bathroom. I feel his glare as I exit the room.
“Liar!” he yells as I am about to enter the bathroom.
My laughs echo off the tiled walls. I open the door and poke my head out before crooning, “If you stop being a little baby and promise me to go to class, I’ll let you shower with me.” The thought of him in the shower with me makes me a little more than nervous, but I find myself growing more and more comfortable around him every day. Plus, our first shower was tense and uncomfortable. I want to give this a second shot.
He’s sliding across the floor and leaning against the doorframe in point-two seconds. “Strip,” he commands.
***
“One black coffee and a Danish for the lady,” Mason says as he jogs up to me. I am currently on my way to my third class of the day. But since I felt bad for missing our usual meet up at the coffee shop, I asked him to bring some coffee along and walk with me for a bit before class. I have approximately seven minutes, but we’re pretty close and he has to go to the library, which isn’t far from the building I’m headed to.
“Thank you, my gent.” I jokingly give him a curtsey, and he waggles his eyebrows, making me burst into laughter. I wrap an arm around him as I bite into my Danish. The cheese in it tastes like heaven, and mixed with the coffee, I could not be any happier. “Again, I’m so sorry I missed this morning’s coffee.” I feel terrible for missing it, but I did have a shower date with a particular individual. The thought of Grey under the water and my hands gliding over him brings a monsoon of bubbles in my chest.
He waves a dismissive hand. “I’m sorry for ruining your date night.”
“You didn’t.” I frown and rub his arm comfortingly. He sighs and keeps his eyes trained to the floor. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you the night ended perfectly and we’re still in a great place?”
“I wouldn’t exactly jump for joy, but as long as you’re happy—yes, it does make me feel better.”
“Good.” I smile from ear to ear and peck his cheek. He blushes and playfully nudges me away. I belt out laughter and nudge him back but drop my arm. I finish off my Danish and throw the paper away in a garbage can. “Now, how do you feel about studying later? Finals are coming up pretty soon, and I want to be prepared for them.”
“I’m up for it. Just text me when you’re coming. I’m spending the day at the library,” he tells me.
We talk a bit more before branching off into our own directions. I have missed him so much. It’s only been two days since I last saw him, but the time I spent with Grey felt like a paradise where time stood still indefinitely. A smile spreads across my face as I revel in the tranquility that seems to consume me.
My phone buzzes, and thinking it’s Grey, I answer it with a cheerful, “Hello!”
“Olivia Renee Westerfield, what has gotten into you?” my mother barks, and I cringe. I forgot about her when I unsilenced my phone to talk to Mason.
“Mother, I—” I try to speak, but she runs over my words like a bulldozer.
“You have gotten so damn rude. How could you hang up on me like that?”
“I didn’t mean to—” I try again, but she cuts through my words. Again.
“And it’s all because of that damned punk. You ruined our dynamic for him. Him! I thought you would have used your brain, Olivia. Not your va—”
“Mother!” I scream out before she can finish that sentence. How can she think so crudely? Think of me like a girl who doesn’t think as much as she acts with what’s between her legs? I pinch my nose and force on a strained smile to keep from snapping at her. “Can you please tell me why you called? I’m on my way to class.”
“To remind you that you will be picked up at eight a.m. sharp next Wednesday,” she informs me in a cutthroat tone that makes me think of a razor blade.
I begin to ask what she means when it hits me. Thanksgiving is next Thursday. And I totally blanked on it. I swear it’s Grey. It’s like he puts up a set of blinders in front of my eyes whenever I’m around him.
“Right,” I say and nod. “Eight a.m. Got it. Anything else?”
She hums, thinking. “Have you bought your dress for the dinner? We will be having company over.”
“Yes. Is Grandmother Millie coming?” I ask, hopeful.
I haven’t seen her in so long, I miss her and often wonder if she’s okay. My grandfather—my father’s father—passed away last year, and when he did, it was like a piece of her died with him. We offered to let her live with us to keep her company, but she didn’t want to leave their home he’d built for her. I call to check up on her from time to time, but it isn’t anything compared to actually seeing her in person.
“Yes, and a few neighbors. I hope you picked out an appropriate dress, Olivia,” she warns.
I roll my eyes and nod, even though she can’t see me. “Of course I have, Mother…” I trail, furrowing my brows. I wonder what Grey is doing for Thanksgiving. I’d hate for him to be alone if he isn’t doing anything. I’d love for him to come. He’d definitely help with the tension bound to flourish between my mother and me. But is it too soon to make him meet my family? More like my father and grandmother. We’ve only just begun to be “sort of a thing.”
“Mother…is it all right if I bring someone along…?” I can feel my heart beat like a manic bird flapping its wings in my throat. My palms grow slick, I almost drop my phone.
“Yes,” she says, and before I can sigh in relief, she laughs obnoxiously.
“What’s funny?” I ask her, slightly shocked. I haven’t heard her laugh—apart from her occasional fake ones—in so long.
“I’m just surprised you’ve moved on from that wretched boy. Hopefully this one has a chance of getting a master’s degree.”
I stop walking and stare at my phone in shock. She only said yes because she thought I meant some other guy than Grey. Well, that obviously isn’t true, but she already said yes, so I’ll take it. Maybe I can convince her of how nice he has been to me? Doubtful, but I want him to come along. I know my father will like him, and maybe even my grandmother. They’re a lot less judgmental than my mother.
“I meant Grey, Mother,” I tell her and anxiously switch my weight from foot to foot.
She guffaws in a snobby manner. “You are not to bring that toxic boy here to a dinner this special. It is only reserved for family and friends.”
“Why not? He and I are dating. It’s only right if I bring him with me,” I argue, making a fist with my free hand. We aren’t really dating, but I can’t say we’re “sort of a thing” if I want to persuade her to let me bring him. It bothers me that she won’t give him a chance. I have, and he’s shown me how good he can be. Why can’t she do the same?
“Dating?” she shrills. Her scoff sends a chill down my spine. “The boy has a color as his name.”
“I’m sure it’s short for something, Mother,” I grit out, although I’m not even sure if it is. I just want her to stop making fun of him.
“He is not to come, and that is final. Do you understand me?” She is firm, and I know I can’t shake her. She will always despise him. The man I love. And I know there’s nothing I can do about it. I just wish she’d give him a chance.
If she won’t let him come, then that’s saying she won’t accept me either. I’ve changed too. Drastically. She’s already proved to me that I am not the daughter she once adored. Once had faith in. I’m the daughter who saw a bad boy and fell for his boyish charms, ignoring his wicked past. But that’s not all that happened. I fell for his heart and his insane but sort of beautiful, complex personality.
We may be complete opposites, but he is the darkness to my light that shields me from the white-hot flares, and I keep him cool while we stay hidden and protected.
“Then you can find another relative to take my place at the dinner table,” I tell her and suck in a deep breath. “Because I’m not coming.” My heart has swum to my throat and is pounding against my delicate skin.
I’ve never defiantly gone against my mother like this before, besides the time she popped up and picked a fight with Grey. Now and then, I’ve just been defying her orders and all because of Grey. But I don’t mind. I’d take a million fights with her to defend him. I love him.
“You are not serious. Olivia, think about what you’re doing!” she seethes through the receiver. “You are giving up spending time with your family for some boy you barely know. You have become so irrational and idiotic ever since you left home. I have half a mind to go down there right this second and pull you out for your sake!”
“Will you just stop already?” I shout. I breathe heavily to catch my breath. People stare at me, but I couldn’t care less. I can’t just let her walk all over me. Not anymore. “If I say that I am not going to some party you only throw to show off your glamorous house and collection of pearls, I’m not going. Mother, you know how much I love you, but I also love Grey—more than I ever thought I would.” I drag in a deep breath.
“You’re going to have to get used to the idea of me and him being together, because as far as I know, we’re not breaking up. I won’t let you break us. Now, I will call everyone respectively and apologize for my absence. Tell them I went to China to study again or wasn’t feeling well—I don’t care,” I rant and wait anxiously for her reply.
“You are making a mistake—” she begins to say, but I can’t take this anymore.
“I have to go.” I hang up and groan in frustration. I tuck my phone in my pants and put my face in my hands. I cannot believe her. Why won’t she trust me enough to do this? She’s always telling me how bright I am, so why can’t she have faith in my brightness and trust that I know what I’m doing?
“Hey there, little virgin,” Diana drawls with a nauseating smirk as she strolls up to me.
As if my day couldn’t get any worse, she comes along.
“I am not in the mood, Diana.” I don’t bother voicing my exhaustion. Whatever she has to say can wait. For an eternity.
I walk around her, but she grabs my hand, so I face her.
“Funny,” she says with a twitch of her red lips. “Grey sure was in the mood last night.”
What?