28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
G rey cut the throttle and his strong posture immediately softened as he began moving toward me.
“Miller.” My name left his lips like a warm hug, embracing me as soon as they hit my ears.
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” I responded. “I’m not even sure why I just blurted that out. Oh god, I’m sorry,” I said, a wave of uncertainty coursing through me.
“Don’t ever say you’re sorry for sharing something with me. Ever,” he said, wrapping me in a hug. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that must’ve been like.” His strength surrounded me, both physically and mentally.
He was safe.
“I was seventeen when it happened.” My tear ducts swelled, threatening to spill over. “Remember when I told you I’d been in a car accident?”
He nodded, pulling me closer, if that were even possible. My back rested against his chest, both of his arms draped over my shoulders, giving me something to anchor myself to. “That was the accident I was talking about. It was Labor Day weekend before our senior year of high school. We were on our way home from a party that’d gotten busted by the cops,” I said, pausing to ground myself.
Grey squeezed a little tighter. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
Taking a deep breath, I continued. “A driver crossed over into our lane and hit us head on. Our car hit the guardrail and flipped, and the driver fled the scene and was never caught. We were left upside down until the firefighters and paramedics arrived. I made it out alive, and she didn’t. She died on the way to the hospital.” The last word left my mouth as the first tear fell down my cheek. It was as if the words had transported me right back to that night, eleven years ago. My body shuttered. “I never even got to say goodbye.” The tears were full-blown waterworks now.
“Jesus, MJ. I’m so fucking sorry.” He rested his chin on top of my head and I let myself lean into his blanket of strength. “That’s horrific. Heartbreakingly so.”
“It was unbearable. The pain, I mean. It was the dark, messy, debilitating, unsure how you’re going to get out of bed kind of pain. The absolute worst kind,” I admitted.
“I know I can’t make it any better or take away any of your hurt—because trust me, if I could, I would—but for what it’s worth, I can promise to be here for you when you want to talk about it, or even when you don’t.”
“That means a lot, thank you,” I said, my voice shaky.
A silence drifted between us as the waves rippled around the boat, making us teeter back and forth slightly. I didn’t know if it was the serenity of the open ocean, Grey’s arms sheltering me, or the simple fact that for the first time—possibly ever—I’d said all of that out loud, but in a flicker of a moment, I felt a tiny piece of me become whole again.
“Thank you,” he said from behind me. Confused, I cranked my neck to the right to get a better view of his face.
“For what?”
“For telling me all that,” he said. “That couldn’t have been easy. And based on what I’ve picked up on since being around you, you don’t tend to overshare, especially with things like this.”
“You’re not wrong,” I admitted. Returning my gaze to the water, watching the little ripples move closer, I smiled, processing what he’d just said.
“I know I’m not.” He beamed back confidently. “But I also knew you’d been holding something in that you weren’t ready to share with me. I didn’t know if you’d ever feel comfortable enough to share, but I hoped you would. And now that you have, I just want you to know that I meant what I said before. The most painful pieces are often the hardest ones to share.” A heavy breath released from his chest, but he still seemed tense.
A sense of comfort rolled through me, and just as I began to settle into it, Grey’s breath quickened.
“Maybe one day, I’ll be as brave as you and share a piece of my hurt too.”
The words fell from his mouth in a moment of vulnerability, and this large, formidable, protective man revealed a new layer about himself.
Selfishly, I wanted to know more, but more than that, I wanted to comfort him. And the fact that he’d given me a glimpse of him that not many people had seen was enough for me right now.
“I’ll be here, ready to listen whenever that day comes,” I replied, snuggling up to him.
“I know you will,” he said, dragging his right hand underneath my chin and pulling it upward. “There’s no doubt in my mind.” His breath was hot against my mouth, but it didn’t last long before the space evaporated.
Each kiss we shared was better than the last. This one was sweet, soft even, and felt more intimate than the rest.
“I should probably get back to driving this boat,” he said, pulling away.
“Do you have to?”
“No. I absolutely do not. I can stay right here with you for the rest of the night.”
Right on cue, my stomach rumbled off some sort of argument to his last statement.
“On the other hand…” He chuckled. “I think I should get us home and get you some dinner.”
“My stomach thanks you.” I giggled.
He made his way back to the captain’s chair and the boat picked up speed within seconds. The sun was now completely behind the horizon, leaving us little light except for the reflection of the stars on the water.
Grey effortlessly docked the boat. While he secured it, I managed to maneuver myself off surprisingly well. I stood, waiting for him to finish.
“Ready?” he asked, pulling my hand into his and guiding me in the direction of his house. His perfect house.
The house was exactly how I remembered it. Floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding glass doors made up the entire back facade. Grey pushed through a wooden gate that separated his property and the beach.
The pool was lit up just as much as the rest of the estate, the water appearing blue from the lights that lay below the surface. Sliding one of the glass doors open, Grey stepped aside, ushering me in first.
Last time I was here, this room was filled to the brim with partygoers and loud music. At the time, that was exactly what I wanted, but I had to admit the silence we were met with now was nice.
“It’s even prettier than I remember,” I said, gazing up at the ceiling in awe.
“I’d have to agree.”
My eyes met his, a coy wink flying in my direction as he looked me up and down.
The rush of heat to my cheeks was unavoidable, and also quickly becoming a common theme when I was around this man.
“Kitchen is this way,” he said, motioning to the other side of the house. The one opposite of his bedroom, because yes, I still remembered exactly where that was.
He started to walk in that direction and I trailed behind him, still taking in every tiny detail of his house.
There was no way he decorated by himself.
Grey switched on a light, illuminating the kitchen in front of us. Another immaculately designed space, maybe even my favorite one.
“Holy shit. This kitchen is bigger than my apartment. It’s gorgeous.”
“The kitchen is one of my favorite places to be, so I wanted something very specific.” He walked to the sink and started washing his hands. “Over there”—he pointed—“behind that door, you’ll find some wine. Pick out any bottle you want, and I’ll get us something to snack on while I prepare dinner.”
“You’re making dinner?” I asked before grabbing the door handle.
Grey looked around the room. “It isn’t going to cook itself,” he joked.
“I mean, obviously, but I just assumed you had someone who did that for you.”
“MJ…” he started, drying his hands on the black towel that previously hung over the sink, embroidered with a gold P . “Despite your previous assumptions of me, I can, in fact, cook my own meals. I even prefer it.” His face was etched with sarcasm. “Wait, you thought I asked you to dinner at my own house and was going to let someone else make it?”
“Kind of? But I’m pleasantly surprised.”
“Well then aren’t you in for a treat.” The word treat left his mouth and I could have sworn he was alluding to something else. Or maybe I just hoped he was.
The doorknob was cold on my palm as I twisted it. The smell of mahogany wafted across my face and into my nose. “Holy shit. When you said you had some wine, I assumed there was going to be a few bottles on the other side of this door, not an entire cellar.”
“One day maybe you’ll quit assuming things about me. Although, I do revel in constantly surprising you.”
“I do like surprises, especially ones in the form of wine cellars,” I joked. “Speaking of surprises, after this, I’d love to go wander around the library of yours that I stumbled upon during the party.”
“You’re welcome to wander around anything you want.”
Stepping through the door, I was transported to my own private cellar. All four walls were equipped with floor-to-ceiling wine racks, and it looked like each wall held 150 to 200 bottles. That wasn’t even counting the unopened cases that rested on the floor, lining the perimeter of the room.
“Any bottle?” I bellowed from inside the cellar.
“Any bottle. Whatever your little heart desires.”
“Say less,” I muttered to myself. I grabbed a bottle that was calling my name and walked back into the kitchen. “How about this one?” I asked, holding up a bottle of cabernet with a fancy label and a name I couldn’t pronounce.
“The perfect choice. Wineglasses are over there”—he pointed to a cabinet—“and opener is in the drawer next to the fridge.”
Grateful the wine opener was electric because my manual opening skills were subpar, I poured Grey a glass and then one for myself.
“Here you go!”
“Cheers,” he said, relieving me of one of the glasses. “To this.”
“To this.” I smiled.
The dark cherry notes soaking into my lips, immediately hitting me with an oaky but sweet taste that almost melted in my mouth. “Yum.” I licked my lips so I wouldn’t waste a single drop.
“Are we sure we have to eat dinner?” His smug smile shocked my senses awake, tempting me to give in.
“I’m sure. No one performs well on an empty stomach.” I grinned. My words sounded even better out loud than they did in my head.
“Hell, MJ. With a mouth like that, I may not give you a choice.” Grey’s eyes fired in my direction, darkening by the second. He threw the dish towel over his shoulder while simultaneously shaking his head at me.
Feeling pleased, I plopped myself on the counter, right next to where he’d been preparing the food.
“For you.” Grey slid over a wooden cutting board that was filled with a variety of cheeses, crackers, and salami.
“I could get used to this.”
I’d already come to learn that with him, words just slipped out before I had a chance to think them through.
“What exactly is it that you could get used to?”
Nervously, I pulled the wineglass to my lips, taking a large gulp. The silence was heavy as I scoured my brain. And of course, after unwillingly blurting out my previous comment, it was as if my brain conveniently decided to stop functioning.
“Because I was thinking the same thing,” Grey said, completely unfazed, before returning to wrap the bright green asparagus in bacon.
I grinned, hiding behind the ruby-red liquid that sloshed around my glass.
Watching him work around the kitchen was a brand-new turn-on. The man had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his toned forearms, before getting down to business. He cut, diced, and chopped, only pausing every so often to take a sip of wine.
“Let me guess, you wanted to be a chef, but your father told you that chefs don’t make any money…” I joked as I plucked a piece of cheese from the charcuterie board.
“An architect, actually. Although, now that you mention it, I do really enjoy cooking. I’m sure that would’ve pissed him off just the same.”
A heat wave flooded my face. “Wait, Grey, I didn’t mean that. I was totally just being an asshole. I shouldn’t—”
“MJ. It’s fine.” He chuckled, pausing before he continued. “I mean, you’re essentially spot on. My father did tell me that if I pursued a career as an architect and not a politician, he would disown me.”
He tried to sound unbothered, but his hyperfixation on slicing the bread in front of him made it obvious that wasn’t the case.
“Ugh, that’s brutal,” I responded. “I can’t even wrap my brain around that. My dad’s over here giving me a job and telling me to follow my dreams. I guess that really puts things into perspective, doesn’t it,” I thought out loud. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my parents have always been my biggest cheerleaders, and I don’t think I would’ve survived the accident if not for them.”
“You don’t have to apologize for having good parents, MJ,” he teased. “Some of us just didn’t get so lucky in that department, and that’s okay. My father was threatened by me the second I entered this world. Especially since he was no longer the center of attention. Our relationship never had a chance. Thankfully my mom is a saint and more than makes up for my narcissistic father.”
“It still sucks, but I’m glad you have your mom. Moms really are superhuman.” I took a swig of my wine. “Wait, so did you go into politics?”
His comment made me realize I didn’t even know what he did for a living.
“I did, or rather, I am. Politics are so fucked. It’s really all about how much money you have, what family you’re a part of, and who you know. Technically, I’ve been in politics since before I could walk. But I only recently made it my full-time gig. Before that, I attempted to make a name for myself without my father. I acquired a few properties, some personal projects, but quickly realized that the entire city of New York is under my father’s regime. Ultimately leaving me no choice but to give into his antics. For now .”
“Jesus. That’s such a different world than the one I live in. It’s hard for me to even wrap my head around all of it. That pressure sounds like a lot. I mean, shit, I get stressed when I don’t meet my made-up deadlines. I couldn’t imagine my dad being a mayor of a whole-ass city, especially one as big as New York, holding such unrealistic expectations.”
“You sort of just get used to it. Or at least I like to pretend to. My entire life has revolved around politics ever since I can remember, so it’s just something that’s always been a part of our family. At Christmas, it’s there. On birthdays, it’s there. It doesn’t matter the day, it’s just always there with us. Sounds weird saying it out loud, but I promise, you just learn to ignore it, or I should say that I have learned to ignore it.”
“I guess…” My voice trailed off. I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to say next. On one hand, I sort of understood where he was coming from, or at least how it felt to want to make your parents proud. On the other hand, I’d seen firsthand how quickly a life could be taken and how important it was to live a life worth living. “Have you ever gotten to do anything that you wanted?”
“I have, here and there. I opened a little coffee shop that I absolutely adore. My own little oasis. That one really pissed him off. And I have a few other ideas floating around but they’ll take time, and I have to be patient if I’m ever going to really be able to tell him to fuck off.”
“By the looks of it, you’d be just fine without him,” I insisted.
“Remember, everything isn’t always as it appears. Although, more than anything, everything is just too damn complicated at the moment, but I’m working on it. In fact, that library you stumbled upon is the inspiration behind one of my biggest ventures.”
“Oh. Now I’m intrigued. But I do get what you’re saying, the part that everything isn’t always how it seems. Just don’t forget you have the right to be happy too. Are you?” I asked. “Happy, I mean.”
He abruptly stopped mashing the potatoes he’d been preparing and looked at me, his expression perplexed. I hadn’t assumed my question would be a tough one.
“It has it perks, some of which make me happy.” He trailed off as his attention moved around the beautiful space around us. “Take this house, for example. I designed it myself. I never would’ve had an opportunity like that if it weren’t for my father.”
“You designed it?”
“The entire thing. Drew the sketches myself.”
The intricate details of this house were incredible before, but now… now that I knew he’d designed it, it looked different. More beautiful than before.
“Grey, this place is incredible.”
“That might be the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” He smirked. “Taste this and tell me my cooking is just as incredible as my design skills,” he said, handing over a wooden spoon full of mashed potatoes, steam still rising from them.
The spoon hit my lips and a gush of flavor immediately overtook my tastebuds. My head started nodding aggressively before I could even swallow the deliciousness. “Yes. The answer is yes.”
“My girl.”