Chapter 5 #2
My chest tightened as I stared at the house. I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to answer her questions. I didn’t want to explain why I wasn’t at work. I didn’t want to have the conversation that I’d been putting off for weeks.
I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
“Hey,” Gray called softly. “What is it?”
I couldn’t impose on him anymore. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t owe me anything, and I’d been using him shamelessly.
“Lou’s home,” I croaked out, shrugging my shoulders. I couldn’t explain further than that. My throat felt like it was closing up.
Without a word, Gray sped back up.
“What are you doing?” I rasped as we passed the house.
“You don’t want to go home,” he said calmly. “So, I won’t bring you home.”
“You’ve already done more than—”
“Quiet,” he ordered. “Lay back and close your eyes for a minute. You look ready to pass out.”
I did what he ordered, even though I wanted to argue. I was just so tired. I felt like I’d been living in limbo for months instead of weeks, unable to sleep, forcing myself to eat and go to work even though everything inside me rebelled. Just the nausea that I’d been dealing with had been exhausting enough. I thought I’d feel better once the abortion was over, and I did in some ways—but the turmoil that I’d been living with hadn’t disappeared the way I’d hoped.
I’d passed one hurdle, but the rest were still out there. Waiting.
“Where are we?” I asked, opening my eyes as we pulled off the road and onto a gravel driveway.
“My place,” he said, looking over at me. “Okay?”
“I didn’t know you owned property.”
“Just a few acres,” he replied as we rolled slowly down the driveway. The trees were overgrown and gorgeous with the light spilling through them.
“You live in a trailer?” I asked, leaning forward to look out the window as the metal shell came into view.
“It’s a camper,” he corrected.
“Fine, a camper.”
“Don’t need much space.”
The camper was set back in a small clearing, and there was a black truck parked beside it.
“You own a truck?” I asked in disbelief.
If I could’ve guessed at any of these things, all of my answers would’ve been wrong.
“It fuckin’ snows here,” he said with a scoff. “You think I’m on my bike in the snow?”
“I’ve never seen you driving that truck,” I argued.
“How many times have you seen me on the road?” he countered, making my mouth snap shut. He had a point.
We pulled up near a pop-up tent that had some lawn chairs under it, and I followed Gray as he climbed out of the car.
Everything was quiet. I paused for a moment to appreciate it. I’d always lived in town where the sound of cars and people was constant.
“You comin’?” Gray asked as he opened the door to the camper.
I didn’t know much about camping or all the things that went with it, but even I knew that the silver campers that looked like giant toasters were expensive. I followed him up the stairs and looked around. To the right of the door was a leather couch that looked like it had never been used. To the left was the kitchen and a tiny dinette. Beyond that was a small hallway, and at the end was a large bed. The entire thing was spotless. A few dishes sat in a drainer on the counter, and a small box of tools or something was pushed under the dinette table, but otherwise everything was neatly put away. Even the floor was clean.
“You can hang out on the couch if you want,” he said, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck, like he wasn’t sure what the hell he should do with me. “But the only TV is back in the bedroom.”
“I’m not going to—”
“Sheets are clean,” he said at the same time. “Pretty clean. Just washed ’em at my mom’s on Saturday, so they should even still smell good.”
“Your mom does your laundry?”
He shot me a look. “No, I use my parents’ machine on Saturdays since I don’t have a setup in here.”
“Likely story,” I joked. “Uh—”
I looked back and forth between the couch and the bed, unable to make a decision. I was ready to drop. I’d barely slept the night before, the cramps were more painful than I’d anticipated, and I was standing in Gray’s home like some lost waif he’d taken in off the street.
Before I knew it, I’d started to cry.
Gray’s sympathetic eyes met mine.
“Ah, baby,” he murmured, reaching for me. He lifted me into his arms and carefully carried me back to the bed, turning sideways in the hallway so we’d fit. I was still sniffling as he sat me down and pulled the sneakers off my feet. “Crawl up to the pillows.”
I followed directions, taking my phone out of my purse before I dropped it on the floor, and made my way up to the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. The mattress was surprisingly comfortable as I curled onto my side. Minutes later, Gray was back. He slid his boots off and took off his cut before crawling up beside me, a cup with a lid and straw in his hand.
“Water,” he announced, reaching over me to set it on my side of the bed.
“Thank you,” I rasped as he lay down beside me, his shoulders propped up on the pillows. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go do whatever I interrupted with my drama.”
He made a noise of disagreement in his throat and pulled me up until my shoulder was tucked into his armpit and my head could rest on his shoulder. “Didn’t have anythin’ better to do.”
He smelled so good. Wrapping my arm around his middle, I relaxed against his side. I wasn’t sure what had changed or what I’d done to make him care, but I also didn’t have the energy to overthink it.
“Scott’s?” he asked after we’d been lying there for a while.
My stomach lurched. “Yeah,” I whispered.
“He know?”
“Fuck no.”
“Probably a good thing,” he replied, his arm around me tightening.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Accidents happen,” he soothed, cutting me off. “It is what it is.”
“No,” I disagreed, staring at the trees outside the window. “He wasn’t wearing a condom. I thought he was, but he wasn’t.”
“Are you fuckin’ with me?” he asked in disbelief, his entire body tensing.
I felt my neck get tight as I jerked away. “No, I’m not.”
“He ask you?” Gray’s arm tightened, pulling me back.
“No.” I swallowed hard. “He was putting it on and then taking it off when I wasn’t paying attention.”
Gray was silent so I kept talking.
“I should’ve paid better attention. I wouldn’t have even noticed except he didn’t bother to pretend the night of my party, and I found the unopened condom the next morning.”
He was still silent.
“I mean, it’s partly my fault. I know what a condom feels like. I should’ve—”
“Quit it,” he ordered roughly, shaking me gently. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“That’s on him. That’s not on you.”
“I could’ve protected myself better.”
“You were fuckin’ him pretty regular?”
“Yes,” I replied slowly.
“In a relationship?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“You ever talk about goin’ without a condom?”
“Never.”
“That’s on him. You trusted someone you shoulda been able to trust. The agreement was that he wrapped it. End of fuckin’ story.”
“He acted like I was overreacting about it all,” I replied, my voice almost a whisper.
“That’s bullshit,” he said firmly, gently pressing my head back down against his shoulder. “The motherfucker.”
“I’m just glad it’s over,” I said with a sigh. “Now I just need to find somewhere else to work.”
“That’s fucked,” he muttered.
“I can’t keep working with him.”
“Don’t need to worry about it today,” he said, turning to kiss my forehead. “Close your eyes. See if you can get some rest.”
“I don’t think I can,” I confessed, my eyes heavy. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll read for a while,” he replied nonchalantly, reaching for the novel on the bedside table.
I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t turn my brain off. I listened as Gray turned the pages, his cheek resting against my head.
“Gray?” I called softly. “When you picked up the Tahoe did you fill up my gas tank?”
“You had less than a quarter of a tank. Shouldn’t let it get that low.”
I swallowed against the knot in my throat. I’d wondered if he’d done it, but for a while I just thought I hadn’t remembered filling up again.
“Why are you so good to me?”
He didn’t reply.
When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft, and the words weren’t his own. “‘It’s in God’s hands,” said Sancho. “I believe everything your grace says, but sit a little straighter, it looks like you’re tilting, it must be the battering you took when you fell….’”
I lay there, listening to Gray reading aloud, and the timbre of his voice lulled me to sleep.
When I woke hours later, the sun was setting, and Gray was no longer in bed with me. Stretching my legs, I looked around the minuscule bedroom. There were four books piled neatly on the bedside table. A photo of Gray’s family sat next to it. It looked like it was supposed to be a staged photograph by the way they were standing, but Gray’s dad Leo must’ve said something because he was smiling proudly while the others were caught mid-laugh. Harper was bent at the waist, Lily’s arm was splayed out like they’d caught her just before she’d smacked his chest, and Gray’s head was tipped back.
Hanging on one of the cupboards was a larger photo of a baby Gray held by a woman I didn’t recognize. She was wearing a polo with a little emblem that I couldn’t read because it was half hidden by baby Gray’s bare belly. His hands were gripping her cheeks as she grinned at him.
Something about her was familiar.
I climbed off the bed so I could see it better. I didn’t recognize her with a closer look, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d seen her somewhere before.
“I’m outside,” Gray called, startling me.
Shoving my feet into my shoes, I made my way toward the door. I’d joked that Gray’s room at the clubhouse looked like a serial killer’s, and he’d defended himself by saying he didn’t live there…but his camper wasn’t much better. There were few personal touches. A multicolored kitchen towel hanging from the tiny stove and a pillow that said Please Leave on the couch. I would’ve bet everything in my bank account the pillow was a gift from Harper.
“How you feelin’?” Gray asked as I stepped outside.
“Not terrible,” I replied. That was the best I could do.
“Fair enough. You hungry?”
“Why do you keep trying to feed me?” I asked as I walked toward him. He was standing next to a smoker on the far edge of the pop-up tent.
“It’s dinnertime.”
“Damn, I slept for a while.”
“You needed it.”
“Thanks for rescuing me again.”
“You didn’t need rescuin’,” he argued, looking me over. “Just a favor.”
“Tomato, tomahto.” I smiled. “What are you making?”
“Bacon.”
I waited.
“Just bacon?”
“I’ve got some eggs inside,” he replied, lifting the lid of the smoker.
“Breakfast for dinner. I like it.”
“Thought you might be hungry when you woke up. I don’t have much here.”
“So, you know what I said about serial killers?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
Gray laughed, shaking his head.
“I mean, come on. You have to admit this isn’t much better,” I continued as he chuckled.
“Don’t have a lot of space,” he explained, still smiling. “Add a bunch of shit, and it’ll just seem even smaller than it is.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that,” I conceded. “Why did you get a camper instead of just building a house?”
“Cost,” he replied, pulling a few of the bacon strips off the smoker. “To build a house you gotta dig a well and septic before you even start the build. Then the price of construction. I figured I’d stay out here a while first, make sure I liked the spot before I committed.”
“And?” I asked, taking a piece of bacon. “What’s the verdict?”
He nodded, his eyes on the smoker. “Probably build in the next few years.”
“I don’t think you could find a better piece of property,” I agreed, stepping out from under the tent to spin in a slow circle, taking in our surroundings. It was really beautiful. The land opposite the road dropped off, and you could see hills and valleys in the distance. The view was incredible.
“Now I just gotta find a house plan I like,” he said. “Haven’t found one yet.”
“Two stories,” I advised. “The master bedroom facing the drop-off, so you’ve got the view and the sunrise.”
He smiled.
“When you need help decorating the place, let me know,” I joked. “After shelling out all that money for the septic and whatever, you’re going to need my thrifting expertise.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied. “Come on, let’s eat.”
I followed him back into the trailer and realized I’d left my phone on his bed. As he set the plate of bacon on the table, I scooted past him and stretched out over the mattress to grab my phone from halfway beneath the pillows. I stuffed it in my pocket without looking and caught the photo I’d been looking at earlier out of the corner of my eye.
“Who’s this?” I asked, pointing to the photo.
He couldn’t see the photo from where he was standing, but since there were only two of them in the bedroom, I figured he’d know what I meant.
“My mother,” he replied, reaching up to grab a frying pan from the cupboard above the stove.
“What?” I looked back at the photo. “That’s not Lily.”
“No, it’s not.”
I waited for further clarification, but none came.
“What?” I repeated, looking at the photo again.
“That’s my birth mother.”
“Lily isn’t your birth mother?” I asked skeptically as I moved toward him.
I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Why hadn’t I known that? Now I understood why the woman in the photo looked so familiar. She looked like Gray.
“Ma was still in high school when I was born,” he said as I leaned against the fridge at his elbow.
“Holy shit. Why didn’t I know that?”
“Not a secret.”
“But—” Thoughts whirled. “Where’s your mom?”
“Died when I was two,” Gray said, glancing my way.
“How?”
“Car accident,” he said, cracking eggs one-handed into the hot pan. “Some old man had a heart attack and T-boned Grandpa Casper when he was drivin’ her home one night.”
“Wait, back up.” I held up my hand. “ Lily’s dad Casper was driving your birth mother around?”
Gray’s lips tipped up.
“So, your parents—Lily and Leo got together after you were born? I never would’ve guessed that.”
“Ma was off at school—”
“She went to Yale, right?”
Gray nodded. “When she heard Grandpa was in the hospital, she flew home. While she was here, she and my dad hooked back up.”
“Hooked back up?”
“They’d had something before my pop found out that I was on the way. Innocent, from the way they tell it, but everyone assumed once she was grown up, they’d be together. Sit.” He set a plate full of eggs and bacon at the dinette, then leaned down and pulled the box of random tools out from under it and set it out of the way.
“Thank you, this looks good.”
“Welcome,” he replied.
“Okay, back to your family history…”
Gray chuckled and cracked more eggs into the pan.
“Dad insisted that Ma go back and finish her degree. Ma refused. Unenrolled from school and moved back home to be with us. She finished at U of O.” He looked at me over his shoulder. “She always says that when she saw me, it was love at first sight. Couldn’t stand to be away.”
Ugh. My heart.
“I love that.” I took a bite of my bacon. “Quick turnover for your dad though.”
Gray choked.
“I mean, no judgment, but whew.”
“My dad and my birth mother weren’t together when she found out she was pregnant. They never got back together.”
“Oh,” I mused as he sat down across from me, his knees bracketing mine beneath the small table. “What was her name?”
“Ashley Phillips.”
“Ashley Phillips,” I murmured. “Cian’s aunt is named Ashley, too.”
“Pretty common name.”
“You were so little.”
“Don’t remember much about her,” he said as he dug into his food. “Certain smells remind me of her though.”
“Like what?”
“Tide laundry detergent. Fried chicken. A certain perfume. I don’t know the name of it, but every once in a while, I’ll walk past someone wearing it.”
“That sucks, Gray. I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. Wish I could’ve known her better, but that wasn’t how it played out.”
“I’m still a little gobsmacked that Lily isn’t your mother.”
“She is in all the ways that count. She raised me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”
Gray waved it off.
“But, hey, you had two mothers who adored you. I didn’t even have one.”
“No?” he asked, his head tilting to the side in question.
“My mom took off when I was just a baby.” I shrugged. “Me and Dad did all right without her.”
“You ever try to find her?”
“She died when I was nine,” I replied. “Overdose, I think. I’m not actually sure. I just remember my dad sitting me down and letting me know. They never got divorced, so he was notified.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Can’t miss something you never had.”
“Sure you can.”
“It is what it is,” I said, copying his words.
“Still shitty,” he said, leaning back in his seat. The inside of his thighs rubbed against the outside of mine as he shifted his legs. “My parents were real big on keeping Ashley’s memory alive. Kept pictures of her on the walls. Told stories. You have that?”
“Uh, no,” I replied uncomfortably. My dad hadn’t talked shit about my mom, he’d just never mentioned her at all. “I don’t think it was an amicable breakup, her leaving him with an infant and all.”
“That’s too bad. If he married her, there had to be shit about her that he’d loved at some point.”
“I think that was probably the issue.” I set my fork down carefully on my empty plate. “I think he probably always loved her, so that’s why he didn’t want to talk about her.”
Gray nodded. His phone vibrated on the counter, and he leaned across the walkway to grab it. After looking at it for a moment, his head lifted to look at me. “You tell anyone where you are?
“No, why?”
“Just got a text from Bas sayin’ they’re goin’ out lookin’ for you because you’re not answerin’ your phone, and your Tahoe’s been parked at the house all day.”
“Fuck,” I cried, stuffing my hand into the kangaroo pocket of my hoodie. When I pulled my phone out there were so many missed calls and texts that the screen was layered with them.
Without checking all the texts, I called Myla.
“Where the fuck are you?” she yelled frantically.
I lifted panicked eyes to Gray.
“Tell ’em,” he said with a shrug.
“I’m at Gray’s,” I replied, swallowing hard.
“You’re where?”
“Gray’s.”
“What the fuck are you doing at Gray’s? No, I don’t even care. Why the fuck haven’t you answered anyone’s calls all day?”
“I wasn’t feeling good, and I slept pretty much all day,” I hedged.
“At Gray’s house?” she shot back in disbelief.
“Camper, actually,” I mumbled.
“Oh, because that fucking matters.”
“Just calm down. I’m fine. I’ll be home in a little while.”
“Are you kidding?” she snapped.
“Call off the bloodhounds, My,” I said seriously. “I’m fine. Why the hell did you call everyone?”
The third degree was making my entire body tighten with dread. I hated being backed into a corner, and the fact that she and Lou had told everyone I was missing just made the entire day worse.
The phone was plucked out of my hand as Myla ranted.
“Hey, Myla,” Gray said calmly, holding the phone a few inches from his ear because she was so goddamn loud. “Yeah, she’s here with me.”
He paused, Myla’s irate voice coming through the speaker. I couldn’t understand what she was saying.
“Frankie can talk to you when she gets home.”
Pause.
“Not my place.”
Pause.
“Probably not long.”
He set the phone on the table.
“Why’d you take the phone?” I grumbled.
“Because you were ready to tear her a new one for worryin’ about you, and I knew you’d feel like shit about it later.”
“You know me so well?” I asked defensively.
Gray watched me for a moment. “I know that you like taking shots rather than drinking beer, but you’ll drink beer if you’re tryin’ to pace yourself. I know that you wear shorts long past when the weather gets too cool for them. I know you change the oil in the Tahoe by yourself even though you could have it done at the club for free. You like restoring furniture or anything else made out of wood or metal. You spend most of your free time checking out garage sales and estate sales. You love antiques, the weirder the better, but you end up reselling a lot of them because they don’t go with the vibe of your house. You hold a grudge like it’s your job. It doesn’t matter how big or mean someone is, you’re incapable of keeping your mouth shut if you see something that pisses you off. You rarely ask for help—it makes you uncomfortable to the point that you keep secrets to make sure no one’s worrying about you. And you have a hell of a good poker face because you seemed to fool everyone but me for the past few weeks.”
“Okay—”
“I’m not done,” Gray said, cutting me off.
My mouth snapped shut.
“You used to have your belly button pierced at some point—there’s a scar left but no hole. You’ve got a tiny castle tattoo on your side just below your ribs. Your legs go on for fucking ever, which defies understanding because you’re not that tall. When you leave your hair down, you mess with it constantly, pushing it out of your face, throwing it over your shoulder, braiding it—but you never tuck it behind your ears. Your nose gets twice as many freckles in the summer because you’re out in the sun so much. You had orthodontia at some point because no one’s teeth are that naturally straight. When you’re kissin’ me, you can’t keep your hands out of my hair. Your legs fit perfectly around my waist, long enough to cross at the ankles with room to spare. When you come, every muscle in your body locks up.”
I held my breath as a blush bloomed across my chest and up my neck.
“You look at me like I could slay dragons,” he continued. “Even when you’re tryin’ to be cool, that look is still there. Can’t seem to help it.”
“That’s not—” I blustered.
Gray shook his head, letting out a huff of laughter. “Only reason I know all that is I’m already lookin’ at you.”
“Why?” I breathed, watching him closely. If he’d already noticed the way I looked at him, there was no reason to try and hide it anymore.
“Can’t seem to help it,” he replied, his eyes still on mine. “I looked up one day, and there you were. Fuckin’ with my head. A puzzle I haven’t figured out yet.”
“I’m not that hard to figure out,” I whispered.
“Woman, I could spend a hundred years with you, and I still wouldn’t figure you out.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Fuck no.”