17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
W e lay in silence, but nothing about what we were doing was silent.
Our bodies spoke to each other, humming in harmony, breaths echoing through the air as our chests heaved in sync. I found myself tracing the divots on Grey’s chest, exploring the parts of his body that I’d missed. My eyes diverted to the tattoo that lay just above his heart, a set of roman numerals.
I wanted to know more about it. Hell, I wanted to know more about him, but I didn’t feel like I had the right to ask. After all, we didn’t know anything about each other, and as much as I hated to admit it, I assumed that after tonight I probably wouldn’t be seeing much of Grey Prescott. At least not like this. In all of his naked glory.
That realization made me both sad and relieved, which was confusing, I knew, but this whole night had been confusing. The idea of not experiencing this again, him again, left me uneasy, but on the other hand, that meant things wouldn’t get complicated.
“Have you lived here your whole life?”
More personal questions?
“Um…” I stuttered. “Yeah, born and raised here. I always thought I would leave, but I guess I just never got around to it.”
“It’s always easier said than done to leave something you’ve known your whole life.”
“Isn’t that the truth. Sometimes I still think about leaving, but the longer I’m here, the further away it feels,” I said, choosing to be honest.
“It’s always going to feel far away until you do it, you know? If you want to leave, you should. Because no matter what, you can always come back. Home will never not be home.”
I lifted my head and rested it on his chest, snagging a better view of him. His hand was tucked behind his head and he looked relaxed—his eyes pointed at me, his lips just barely parted, and his breathing perfectly content.
“Home will never not be home. I like that,” I said. “I didn’t know you were such a wealth of wisdom, Grey Prescott.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” A sense of hesitation resided in his voice before he spoke again. “Stick around and you might find out more.”
“Is that an invitation?” I teased, even though his comment made me nervous. Afraid of the silence, I kept talking. “Speaking of, how come I’ve never seen you in Montauk before?”
“Who says you haven’t?” he responded.
He interlocked our fingers together and raised them in the air as he examined how they mingled with one another.
“Trust me, I would’ve remembered you.”
His broad smile revealed each one of his perfect teeth. “It’s my first time back to town in years. Life hasn’t always played nice, and unlike you, it was easier for me to leave and harder for me to come back. But I wanted this summer to be different, so I finally got back here. And it seems I made the right decision.”
He was speaking in riddles, but as hard as I tried to decipher what it was he was saying, I couldn’t figure it out.
“But Montauk is exactly how I remember it,” he went on. “It’s just as perfect as it was all those years ago. Being back here makes me wish I wouldn’t have waited so long.”
As I listened to the words that left his mouth, the vulnerability of it all was a little uncomfortable. Thankfully, the sudden urge to pee gave me an excuse to catch my breath.
“Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom.” I maneuvered out of the bed, taking the bedsheet with me. “But Grey?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t dwell on the past. It has a way of bringing down your present.”
He laughed, a low wholesome laugh. “Well, well, well. Look who the insightful one is now.”
I pranced into my bathroom and closed the door behind me, the weight of my body falling heavy against it. I released a deep breath before pushing myself off the door and making my way to the toilet, my thoughts running wild.
I wasn’t sure how I wanted to proceed next. I’d already told his driver he was staying the night, so casually expecting him to leave probably wasn’t in the cards. And it wasn’t that I wanted him to leave. It was that I’d enjoyed this way more than I expected, which meant allowing him to stay only gave me more time with him. Pretty sure the definition of letting loose didn’t include anything beyond fucking.
“See, this is why I need you Liv,” I whispered to myself. “I can’t do this whole carefree thing. I’m always too worried about what comes next, always anticipating the other shoe dropping. And I already know what comes next with Grey… He goes back to New York. Ugh, why aren’t you here to teach me how to be more like you? I hate that you’re gone.”
My whispers paused when I heard an unfamiliar ringtone. His voice was muffled through the door, but there was sense of urgency in it. The call was short, maybe a minute long, and then it was silent again.
“MJ?” Grey shouted before knocking on the door.
I yelled back, “Yeah, I’ll be out in one sec.”
“I have to go. I’m really sorry, but I just got a call and—”
“Oh, okay. No worries,” I butted in, doing my best to mask the disappointment that hovered beneath the surface. I was thankful for the door separating us because my facial expressions weren’t easy for me to disguise.
“I’ll see you around?” he asked, sounding a little unsure of himself.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll see you around.”
I’d finished going to the bathroom just as his phone rang but found myself still standing there with my sheet chaotically wrapped around my naked body, glaring at my reflection.
Slowly pushing the door open, I peered around my apartment.
And just like that, he was gone.
I walked to my closet and threw on an oversized T-shirt and some black boy short undies before stumbling back to my freshly fucked-in bed. The blankets were rumpled and some of the pillows had made their way to the floor. I put it back together, very half assed, partially because I didn’t want to think about it, but more so because I just wanted to close my eyes.
I tried, like really tried.
But every time I attempted to sleep, my mind wouldn’t allow it.
Instead, when I closed my eyes, I was met with flashes of him.
Everywhere.
His lips. His body. His mouth.
A few times I reached up and touched my lips, just to make sure he wasn’t still there.
The thought of never seeing him again, or at least never seeing him like I did tonight, left an idling pit in my stomach. Initially, he was going to be my outlet for a little fun, and while he’d absolutely been that, I’d started to pick up on pieces that might prove I’d been wrong about him. But the reality of the situation mocked me. This was a one-night stand, and it made me feel silly to think of it as anything else. Anything more.
He didn’t, because if he had, if there was something more, he wouldn’t have left.
Sometime between the Grey Prescott hallucinations and me telling myself to knock it off, I drifted to sleep.
“Mmm. Grey,” I whispered, feeling his fingers trace my inner thigh.
“MJ, open your damn door.” Sam’s voice sounded distant, but the obnoxious pounding on the door did not. I blinked my eyes open, realizing I’d been dreaming and wasn’t in fact having sex with Grey Prescott again.
Mental note: This was what I got for attempting to have a fun summer. The wild one-night stand was something I’d prepared for, but the trench of persistent thoughts about it was not.
“Holy shit, I’m coming,” I yelled in the direction of the knocking as I stumbled out of bed and rubbed my temples.
Swinging the door open, a gust of Bubba’s breakfast took over my sense, greasy and satisfying. Exactly what this hangover needed.
“Oh my god, you are the best human,” I said, grabbing the grease-stained bag of food out of her hands.
“You’re hurting that bad?” she asked, walking into my apartment and sitting down on one of the barstools. “I figured you came home and went straight to bed. I half assumed you would’ve been on your morning run when I got here.”
“Ha. Not happening.” I laughed. “Today will consist of vegging out on the couch and catching up on some of the trashy TV I missed earlier this week. Plus, it’s rainy, so basically the weather is begging me to be lazy.”
“Fair enough. So, how’d the rest of your night go? I tried to find you before we left.”
“It was… eventful, to say the least.”
“Eventful as in Mr. Prescott eventful? Or eventful as in cute bartender eventful?”
I walked over to the counter and grabbed a paper towel before ripping the warm bag open. “This sandwich is heaven on earth. I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you, but I’m so grateful,” I told her.
“You’re so damn dramatic. And you’re also trying to change the subject. But based on the two wineglasses sitting on the counter behind you, you’ve got some explaining to do.” Her smile gave way to her excitement as she sat on the barstool with her arms crossed, patiently awaiting the metaphorical tea.
“Shit,” I muttered, turning to see the half-drunk glasses of wine. Memories of what took place right here, in this exact spot, had chills invading my body. “Well, considering the bartender turned out to be far too young for me, it’s safe to say it was not eventful in terms of the cute bartender.”
“And what about Grey?” She was virtually falling out of her seat waiting for my response.
“What about him?” I took a bite of my sandwich, hoping if my mouth was full, I might buy myself some more time to decide what details I wanted to disclose.
“C’mon, MJ. Spill.”
“Hmm. Where do I start? I went to the bathroom last night and accidentally found myself in his bedroom. Before I could get out of there, he came in. We found ourselves in quite the predicament and ended up making out, but then we got interrupted by a drunk dude needing to pee.” I paused, proud of myself for sounding calm despite the elevating beat in my chest that would suggest otherwise.
“What. You’re lying…”
“I’m not.” I smirked. “And that was only the beginning.”
Sam’s mouth was slightly open before this conversation, and now it was practically touching the counter. “Please tell me that is his wineglass sitting on your counter?”
“That is his wineglass sitting on my counter.” I scrunched my face, trying not to show how much I was relishing the fact that I’d slept with him.
“Oh my hell,” she said. “The girl who didn’t even want to go to the party last night ended up bagging the hot-ass host of said party. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
“If I remember correctly, you had your own priorities last night.”
Sam blushed. “Anthony is pretty great. In fact, he was the one who reminded me of the Bubba’s breakfast delivery that we needed to make this morning.”
“He’s already a winner in my book then. Is he waiting for you?”
“No, he dropped me off and said he was going to run a few errands, but I told him I was headed to The Wharf after this anyway.”
“Well, isn’t that sweet,” I responded. “You got a fuck and a breakfast.”
“I’m assuming by that comment that Grey didn’t offer as much?”
“Hardly. He didn’t even stay the night. Which is fine, honestly, it was probably for the best.” My thoughts trailed back to last night. “After we had sex, we started talking, and he seemed so genuine.”
“Okay, wait, I’m lost,” she said. “You had sex, and then he wanted to get to know you, and then he left, but you’re glad he did?” she questioned. “I mean, I understand in most cases people get to know each other before they sleep together, but does the sequence of events really matter?”
“No, obviously not. It’s just that I didn’t anticipate him to be that kind of guy, so then I didn’t know what to do next. I went into it thinking we met each other at a party, we could hook up and just see each other around town here and there. So his gentleman-like tactics really threw me for a loop and I ultimately came to the conclusion it was probably best he leave.”
“My god, your thought process is absurd. And I say that in the nicest way possible.”
“Sure you do,” I mocked. “Okay, but in fairness to me, he was the one who got a phone call and left in a hurry. It wasn’t like I just hid in the bathroom until he left.”
“That does make it little bit better, because I definitely wouldn’t have put that past you,” she joked. “Anthony did say Grey has some shit he’s been dealing with, so maybe that’s why he left in such a hurry.”
“I mean, maybe. Or maybe after we both got what we wanted, it just made sense,” I replied, doing my best to sound uninterested. “Anyway, I’m working at seven tonight. Dad wanted me in a bit early because of how crazy Thursday and Friday were. He told me they did a record night last night, which is kind of surprising considering the amount of people at Grey’s party.”
“No shit. This weekend already feels way busier than the last couple of years combined,” she said. “Speaking of, I should probably head out. Chris closed the bar last night and we all know what that’s going to look like.”
Our giggles filled my small apartment.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I moved toward my front door just behind Sam. “Thanks again for breakfast. You’re saving lives left and right.”
“See you tonight. Love you.”
“Bye. Love you.”
I closed the door and made my way back to my breakfast sandwich, grabbing my phone from the counter first. I let myself mindlessly scroll through social media. I was bound to do whatever I could to keep from thinking about last night’s events.
Although, without even realizing it, I pulled up Google and typed in New York . Random facts about the city and population popped up, which I wasn’t looking for, but in all honesty, I wasn’t sure what it was that I was looking for.
The uneasiness washed over me and I exited out of my search and pulled up social media.
Shades of red, white, and blue appeared on my screen. Pictures of Memorial Day weekend flooded my feed, and a sudden sadness washed over me. Holiday weekends were everyone’s favorite in town, and as much as I loved these weekends, there would always be a sadness that lingered.
Liv.
Not a single day went by that I didn’t think about her. While every day brought its own memories, holiday weekends served the most. The good, the bad, and the downright awful.
Years had filled the gap since that specific Labor Day night, and while things had definitely gotten easier, I still found myself struggling through some of the hard moments. After the accident, I spent a few years in weekly therapy until I thought I’d had an appropriate amount of time to grieve the loss of my best friend. And yet, as I stood here in my kitchen, all these years later, I didn’t think there would ever be enough time for me to grieve her.
I found myself missing her in moments like these, when I had something to tell her or something to talk to her about. Times when I wished I could just pick up my phone and hear her voice on the other end. Times when I wanted nothing more than to go sit on the beach with her, toes dangling in the water as we gushed about the previous night’s hookups and checklists for the summer. Those were the moments that felt the hardest.
If I was honest, I was afraid no one would be able to fill the hole she left behind, and honestly, that scared the shit out of me. The simple thought of it could send me spiraling. Determined to avoid that, I took another bite of my delicious breakfast sandwich, curled up on my couch, and lost myself in shitty reality TV.