27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“A ll right, this has to be it, my god,” I said, talking to myself as I examined the light blue sundress with subtle white flowers in my floor-length mirror. I was going for effortless but cute, and thankfully this dress was both of those things.
I flung my hands in a fanning motion. I’d tried on damn near fifteen outfits and at this point, I was sweating. I leaned closer to my reflection, swiping my fingers in the corners of my mouth, removing any residual lipstick that crowded the edge of my lips. My tousled blonde curls fell perfectly down my back, and the sudden burst of confidence had me anticipating the night ahead even more.
“MJ?” Grey’s voice trailed down the hallway and into my bedroom, startling me. My heart stuttered at first before kickstarting itself into high gear.
“Be right there,” I shouted. Grabbing my chunky white Converse, I plopped down on my disheveled bed and quickly pulled them on before making my way toward Grey.
Expecting him to be waiting for me in the entryway, I moved in that direction, only to be startled again by a loud sound that came from the kitchen.
“Shit,” Grey said, clearly flustered.
“What are you doing over there? Looking for all of my secrets?” I joked, trying to get a glimpse of whatever it was.
All six foot and some odd inches of him standing there, in my kitchen, was a sight I never knew I was missing. His broad shoulders put a strain on the thin material of his light blue button-up, hinting at the strength of his back muscles. His chinos were suctioned to every inch of his lower half, and I couldn’t resist nibbling my lower lip.
My eyes trailed up his body just as he twisted to look at me, a defeated expression on his face. Confused, I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off before I could say anything.
“For you,” he said, pulling a bushel of lilac hydrangeas from the counter behind him. “I was trying to get them into a vase for you but failed. Miserably.” A tiny smirk developed in the corner of his mouth.
Beaming, I said, “You didn’t have to—”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” He paused. “We forgot to bring your flowers home from the bar last night, so I wanted you to have some for your house too.”
My god. This man had turned me into a ball of mush.
“Thank you,” I responded, knowing I wasn’t well enough to form an actual sentence.
“Anything for you,” he said, his voice dragging with him as he strolled closer.
He raised his hand up, inches from my collarbone, and I felt the sudden urge to feel his fingertips on my skin.
A subtle gasp slipped through my lips. The breath between us was buzzing.
But just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. I opened my eyes to find him looking right back at me. Except this time, his expression wasn’t one of defeat. Instead, his smoldering gaze was laced with seduction as the tiny muscles in his jaw tightened.
“Ready to go?” he asked, canvassing my body.
I raised my eyebrow and smirked, sarcastically responding, “Like what you see?”
He nibbled his lower lip. “Even more than I remember.”
Outwardly, I was doing my best to stay calm, cool, and collected, because inside, my body was completely unhinged.
Pushing a stray piece of blonde hair behind my ear, I attempted to change the subject, afraid that I might do or say something irrational if I didn’t. You know, something like “Fuck dinner, take right me here, Grey. I’m begging you.”
Thankfully, I got ahead of my rogue thoughts.
“Should we head out?”
His silence lingered. With one hand in his pocket and the other massaging his jaw, his deep voice filtered through the air. “We probably should.”
The words were enough to send every single one of my nerves firing off.
I forced myself to move toward the door, and he followed closely behind.
Coming down the stairs, I expected to see that beautiful light-blue bronco perched in a parking spot, but after a quick scan, I came up empty. Uncertainty spread across my face as I looked at Grey.
“You were hoping for the Bronco, weren’t you?” A devilish grin mounted his face.
“Maybe just a little,” I said, scrunching my face. “No, but really, if we’re not driving, how are we getting to your house?”
His grin returned. “Can you trust me?”
“Grey…”
“Can you?”
Glancing down the small picturesque street, then back up at him, standing there so patiently, I nodded. “I can.”
“My girl,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me in the direction of the water. When I didn’t budge, he continued. “Are you coming or am I going to have to carry you?”
Blushing at the thought of this man carrying me across the busiest street in town, I responded, “I’m coming.”
His hand stayed laced in mine, neither one of us willing to let go. The quiet chatter of the townspeople enjoying their dinner, the salty breeze floating by, and the bugs beginning their nighttime symphony making it easy to get lost in the moment.
I looked toward the sunset, the sun almost hidden beneath the water, only a glimpse remaining, and smiled. I knew if Liv could see me now, she’d be proud of how far I’d come. How much I’d stepped out of my comfort zone recently. How much I was enjoying myself.
“I know you don’t love being in cars, so”—Grey peered over at me—“I figured we’d take another form of transportation.”
I tilted my head to the side, bemused, and watched as his eyes shifted to the water before quickly following his line of sight.
A low gasp left the back of my throat and my hand flung to my mouth. There, only a few feet from where we were standing, tied up to a tiny dock, was a vintage Chris-Craft.
The outside was flawlessly painted in a nautical navy blue, with gold block letters centered across the back, spelling out A Second Wave . The interior was made of the same pristine wood that’d clearly been well preserved. Even the seats were wooden, but they were covered with navy-and-white-striped cushions. The captain’s chair matched perfectly in a pearly, cream color. This boat was something similar to what you’d see while scrolling Pinterest.
“Is this yours?” I said, my mouth hanging open.
“It is,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I bought it a few years ago, hoping that it would push me to come back here, and it’s sat dry-docked until just recently.”
My eyes still dancing over every detail of his boat, I said, “It’s perfect. Growing up in a town like this, you learn to appreciate and understand boats, especially ones that look like this.”
“I thought you might like it.”
“I love it.”
Hand in hand, we made our way onto the dock as it wobbled underneath our weight, creaking every so often.
Grey stepped over the side of the boat, gracefully planting himself inside.
I firmly gripped the side, attempting a somewhat nimble movement while Grey’s back was turned, knowing I wasn’t going to look half as graceful as he did. Unfortunately, the plan didn’t work, and the slack in the rope allowed the boat to slowly drift from the dock all while I still had one foot planted on it. “Shit.”
Hearing the panic in my voice, Grey instantly spun around. “Here. Grab my hand.”
I reached for him, trying to control the weight of my body, but was unsuccessful. Just as the remainder of my body left the dock, so did our balance. He fell onto the seat behind him, my body landing on top of his, my legs on either side of his torso.
“Well, if I knew it was going to be that easy to get you on top of me, I would’ve showed you my boat sooner,” he said, his tongue slowly trailing his upper lip.
I slapped his chest. “Hilarious.”
The position made it almost impossible not to stare at him, and as I did, I couldn’t help but feel something for this man. Being around him was easy, talking to him was easy, everything with him was just easy.
“Sorry,” I muttered, still straddling him.
I started to push myself off of him, but not before he caught my face in his hands. “For what?”
“I was lost in my own thoughts.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked.
His question shook me, because normally, I would’ve said yes. I’d spent so much of my time lost in my own thoughts—the dark ones, the sad ones. But now that he mentioned it, my thoughts when I was around him were neither of the above. When I was with Grey, my thoughts were clear, fresh, hopeful.
“Actually, no…” I breathed. “It’s not.”
“I’d love to be able to see inside that pretty little head of yours,” he said, my face still pushed against his palms. “Maybe one day I will. You know, when you publish your book.”
“Maybe one day,” I said, smiling despite myself. I again attempted to remove myself from his lap, because my self-control was wavering with each passing second.
“MJ?” He pulled me even closer. “I want you to know that I think you’re incredible. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. If I would’ve known that you were here, I never would’ve waited this long to come back.”
His words were sweet as they left his mouth and filtered through the air. A response wasn’t coming to me at the moment, but the urge to kiss him definitely was. Before thinking too much into it, I pressed my mouth hard against his.
His hands lowered from my face, and he gripped my hips as he pressed his body against mine. The slightest moan edged its way from the back of my throat but was quickly silenced by Grey’s mouth consuming mine.
Eventually, our kisses softened, almost as if our bodies were satisfied, at least for the moment. Or maybe we both realized this town was too small to have spontaneous boat sex two minutes from the main drag.
“I’m starving,” I offered, leaning back, my arms still slung around his nape.
His eyes darted down to where my legs still clung to either side of his thighs. “Me too.”
Giggling, I said, “Grey, I’m serious.”
“Okay, okay, fine. It’s only a ten-minute ride to my house. Make yourself comfortable.” He motioned toward the empty seats at the back of the boat. Grey untied the boat, walking back to the captain’s chair, stopping only to lean down and plant a kiss on my forehead.
Smiling, I stared out to the ocean. I was grateful that we were traveling via boat instead of car. While my anxiety around cars was subdued whenever I was with Grey, the sea always brought me some much-needed solace.
The rumble of the engine coming to life and the last few rays of sun on my face convinced my eyes to shut. Moments like this made it hard for me to believe that all the hurt I’d endured could exist in the same world as all of this joy.
As we idled out from the dock, I imagined what Liv would say if she saw me sitting here—in this boat, with this man, smiling. Truly smiling. I’d like to think she’d be happy for me. That she’d be cheering me on. It was wild to think that ever since her death all those years ago, I could count on one hand the number of times that I’d known this sense of contentment.
As Grey pushed the throttle down, I felt lighter than I had in a while, almost like I was floating while the air breezed through my curls. I’d kept Liv’s death so close to me for so long, I never imagined feeling the need to share it.
I sort of assumed that I’d always be sad. Maybe not fully sad, but at least partly. Like little fragments of my being would harbor sadness no matter how much time had passed and no matter how much happiness radiated around me.
I didn’t know how long we’d been cruising or how much longer we had to go, but I made the spontaneous decision to let him in on my grief.
“My best friend died.”