Grey was stiff and cold during the ceremony. I tried a few times to hold his hand, but each time he clutched his hands into fists. When he did it for the umpteenth time, I sighed and cupped my hands in my lap. I gave up on him for the time being. I knew he was just stuck in a bubble of shock and overwhelming pain. I knew he would come around when he felt he was able to. But for that moment, I just sat beside him and was his shoulder to cry on if he needed it.
His gloominess stains him and doesn’t budge, even when the service is over. Despite his need to be cold and to himself, I hold his hand the entire way home and whisper sweet inklings of hope in his ear. I even kiss his cheek sometimes, and only then do I see him respond.
He grips my hand harder and closes his eyes. I watch closely and feel my heart slip from beneath me when I notice something very small, you wouldn’t have seen it unless you were really, really close: tears dot across his long, thick eyelashes. I quickly grab a tissue from my black purse and try my best to be discreet when wiping them away. But everyone is too distraught to even notice.
I kiss his cheek again. I admire this breathtaking statue and lean on his shoulder. I take a few deep lungfuls, and he follows suit. I have my hand on his leg as an open invitation to take it when he needs it. We park in front of the house and everyone deftly leaves the car that reeks of silent tears and sadness. He finally takes my hand before laying in my lap and bursting into tears.
“Why did this have to happen?” he sobs, and my heart snaps in two like a toothpick.
“I know, it hurts,” I coo, brushing back his hair and twirling a piece. I have to try my hardest not to join him in his breakdown. I have to be strong for him or this will just get worse. We stay silent in the car for a few more minutes before I suggest, “Do you want to go inside? Your abuela made a lot of sweets she said you loved as a child.” He stiffens, then sits up and stares me in the eyes intensely. I swallow and shake my head. “Or we can go for a walk. Whatever you want.”
“What I want is to—” he begins.
A knock on the window next to me cuts him off. I turn around, facing a teary-eyed Isabella.
“Abuela wants to talk to Grey,” she informs, dabbing under her eyes.
I nod and offer her a small smile. “He’ll be right there.”
She glances at Grey, then back at me. “Okay,” she croaks. I watch as she heads back into the house. I want to console her too and everyone else grieving, especially Alma, but she wants Grey right now, and I have to give everyone space if it’s what they need.
I turn back to Grey. “You were saying something?”
“Nothing,” he says firmly, voice cold and face hardened again.
My heart plummets.
“Grey…” I sigh and take his hands in mine. He rips them away and storms out of the car. “Grey!” I open the door closest to me and rush up the stairs. But when I realize he isn’t slowing down one bit, I stop and try to catch my breath. Dang it! I was doing so well, getting him to open up. But then we were interrupted and now he’s snapped back into off-standish Grey. The most difficult Grey to talk to. However, he probably just needs to let out some steam by himself.
I painfully decide to leave him be until he comes to me like I offered in the church. The church…sitting in the pews while family members and close friends spoke about Grey’s grandfather reminded me so much of Jonah’s funeral.
The thought makes me dizzy, and I lean against a wall in the living room. I can still remember that somber day perfectly. It had been cloudy that day; a few tear drops broke from the gray sky. There was crying, so much of it. I felt as though I could drown in it indefinitely. I couldn’t swim then, and it frightened me. That night is when the nightmares started.
“Liv, are you okay?” I lift my head to Emilio’s concerned face. His eyes are bloodshot, and his normally tousled black hair is somewhat tamed by gel. His black tie has come undone and he just doesn’t look or sound like his normal self.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie and drop my hand from my aching chest. I hate funerals, always have and always will. “What about you?” I am not important now; he and the rest of the family and friends mourning are.
He shrugs and lets out a long sigh as he stares at the floor. “Tired, I guess…I wasn’t able to sleep last night. I just kept dreaming of him, you know?” He looks up as if to check if I do understand. I nod frantically. I know about that more than anyone. He goes back to looking at the floor. “We would always go fishing on the weekends, but never catch anything. He was convinced there was this great big fish that was eating all the small ones.”
I laugh, and his black eyes meet mine. “He sounded really sweet.”
“Yeah…he was.” He smiles a knowing smile, shoving his hands in his pockets.
I open my mouth to say something, but I have the feeling like I am being stared at. I raise my eyes over his right shoulder and find Grey staring at me. The look he’s giving me sends actual shivers down my spine. He gestures to the stairs beside me, and I raise a brow. He excuses himself from a couple of his uncles, then strides through the packed room like he owns it. I always forget how intimidating he can be. He brushes past my shoulder as he walks by, heading up the stairs.
“I’m sorry, I have to go use the…” I trail, smiling apologetically, and he nods. I give him one last assuring smile and rub his shoulder before walking up the creaky steps. It is quiet and empty up here because everyone is gathered on the lower level.
“Grey?” I softly call his name, opening our bedroom door.
He’s looking out the window that faces the front yard. “You wanna know what I was saying in the car?” he asks, foot tapping. He looks much taller with how mysterious he is being, his body not facing me.
“Um, yes?” I croak, not sure what is happening.
He finally turns around and I frown; his top buttons are done, his hair is a complete mess, and his eyes are red and puffy.
“Oh, Grey.” I walk over to him, intending to hug him, but he pulls me into his chest and clasps his lips over mine.
My body instantly responds by pressing into him. He walks me backward, and I am pressed against the window. Scared some people may still be out front, I push and turn him around so that he is on the wall. The kiss is hot and leaves me wanting so much more, it’s killing me. But then I grip his collar and remember why he is wearing it.
I pull away and swallow, my cheeks flushed. “What are you doing?”
“I need a distraction,” he grumbles, pulling me into his lips. I instantly moan and feel myself grow stimulated by his words and what he so desperately wants. But I don’t think this is healthy—no, it definitely isn’t.
I pull away again and grip his collar. “Not now,” I whisper, but he just groans impatiently and walks us back to the bed. I fall back on it, and he begins to leave marks on my neck with his mouth and tongue. I moan and nearly forget what I am trying to say. “Grey…we can’t.”
He forcefully leans up and snaps, “Why not?”
I nearly cower under his intense, heavy eyes. “Because your family is very close by…and you just came from you grandfather’s funeral,” I whisper the last part.
He rolls his eyes. “So?” He goes back to kissing my neck, but as much as I love it, I can’t let this happen when he’s like this.
“Grey…no. I said no!” I push him off me and quickly sit up.
He is practically fuming, standing up quickly, hands tugging at his hair. “I said I needed a fucking distraction! If you aren’t going to give me that, then why the fuck are you here?”
I grimace, and his face softens instantly. “I know you’re just really emotional right now…but you can’t talk to me like that.”
“I know, I—I’m sorry. I just…” He reaches out to me, then shakes his head and steps back. “I’ve gotta get out of here. I’m sorry, Liv.” I believe his eyes, so I nod and watch him leave, shutting the door after him.
I groan, my head in my hands. I know how he’s feeling. He’s being bombarded with so many emotions.
“Liv.” I look up and find Sofía standing in the doorframe. “Abuela Alma asked if you could help clean up, the party’s over.”
“Sure, I’ll be down in a second,” I tell her, and she nods and turns away. But then she stops like she forgot something and looks at me again.
“Is everything okay between you and Grey?” she asks.
“Yes, why do you ask?” I am confused until I figure she saw him storm out of the house. “He’s just a little emotional.”
“Oh, okay.” She nods, eyes darting to the floor. I cautiously watch as her entire demeanor descends into solemnity.
“Are you all right?” I ask her, and she nods quickly.
“I’m fine.” She closes the door before I can say anything else.
***
Grey doesn’t come back to the house. I stayed up for hours until I’d fallen asleep. I was so worried and tried calling using the house phone the entire day, but he hasn’t replied at all. I have to get my phone fixed as soon as I’m back in Miami tomorrow, but until then, I slept on the floor in case Grey came back, possibly drunk, which is understandable, and needs the bed. I don’t want him sleeping on the floor, not during this hard time. He needs all the comfort he can get.
The sharp bang against the window above me wakes me.
I jolt upright and peer out the window and find him leaning coolly against the passenger door of his uncle’s truck. He really has to pay more attention to his keys. I look around the room briefly and put on a black sweater of his. It’s huge on me, but it must be cool outside. I slip into a pair of dark blue flats then leave the room. I’m careful to be quiet as I exit the house.
“Where’d you go?” I ask him as I walk up to him.
“I went for a drink,” he explains. “Only one,” he adds before I can say anything about him driving while drunk. Thank God. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.
“Are you better now?” I ask, cupping his face, standing on my toes, and bringing his head down so he is practically bent over. He laughs at our height circumstances, and I giggle. I bite my lip when he stares at my lips. I peck his lips just because I’ve been so very concerned, plus I may miss them even though we just made out feverishly hours before. I can never get enough of him.
“Yes,” he says, and I narrow my eyes skeptically.
“Mm-hmmm.”
He laughs. “I am not lying. I’ve calmed down. I swear.”
I look into his eyes and the ghost smile on his lips, then nod. “Okay.”
“Good.” His eyes drop to my lips, and he bites his lip before looking into my eyes again. “Now, have you changed your mind?” I suck in a sharp breath when he brushes hair behind my ear. I blush, knowing I must look insane, my hair wild and dressed in only his sweatshirt and pajama shorts. But he didn’t exactly give me a lot of time to get dressed.
“About?” I gulp, feeling the wetness between my legs.
He must have a deep connection to it, because he glances down and licks the corner of my mouth.
Oh God.
“You know what,” he groans, and I nod. “Distract me, please? I need you so…badly, Liv,” he pleads with a whimper that makes me shiver. He presses his excitement against my abdomen, and I barely hold back a moan. I swear, it’s like when we had sex in the shower; he ignited this extreme thirst for him, this burning hunger that is ripping its way through me.
“But—” I begin weakly.
He silences my whimper with his mouth. I instantly let my mouth drop and feel his tongue press against mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and stand on my toes to help him reach my mouth a little easier. He cups my face gently and kisses me really slowly, tasting and savoring me. My knees weaken, yet I grow incredibly needy for him…for more. He walks us backward until my back hits the passenger door.
He pulls away too soon and leans his forehead against mine. “Get in the car,” he orders, and this time, I don’t disobey him.
I nod and press my lips to his again, desperate for his soft lips. I kiss him hard and get a little taste of my own. I moan at how great he tastes and the way my body heats up by his hands gripping me, holding me.
When I pull away, he looks as greedy as me.
“As long as there’s more of this,” I whisper, and he nods, quickly kissing me.
“This…” He pauses and gently sucks on my bottom lip; a moan slips out of my mouth. “And much more.”