Chapter 62 Settling in
Settling in
"Thanks, Malcolm, you're a doll!" Shelley waved him off before shutting the door to Gray's place.
When Gray had said it was small, he wasn't kidding.
The entire space was just one room, and the only door led to the bathroom.
As Shelley wandered around, peeking into cupboards and drawers, she realized Gray didn't seem to spend much time here.
There was barely any food, so what on earth did he eat?
The lack of personal touches struck her next. No decorations or knickknacks to make the place feel lived in. Hands on her hips, she surveyed the space and shook her head. She had more packed in her luggage than Gray had in the entire place. How did he live like this?
"I need to convince him to get a better place with me," she muttered, envisioning the home she'd make for them.
She'd spent the last three years dreaming of the home she wanted with Gray.
Yes, he played hard to get, but she knew she just hadn't found the best way to wear him down.
Her roommate Katie had told her many times to move on, but deep down she only had feelings for Gray.
She'd already asked Declan about rentals.
If Gray was planning to stay here long term, she'd find a way too.
When he'd seemed surprised by her assumption that she'd stay with him, she'd immediately thought, Well, we'll need a bigger place.
Now that she'd seen his living situation, Gray hadn't exaggerated; it was barely big enough space for two people.
One thing she knew for certain, for a relationship to work, each person needed at least one space to call their own.
This place offered none of that. If she could stay, they would have to move.
After unpacking, Shelley glanced outside and froze.
It was completely dark. The darkness seemed to press against the windows, consuming everything.
Where are the streetlights? What about light pollution?
She wasn't used to this level of isolation, and without Gray here to make her feel safe, the silence and emptiness were unnerving.
Her earlier satisfaction at sending Riley running had faded. Where the hell was Gray? And why were there no phones? Not that she had anyone to call, but the thought still irritated her.
As the unease settled into her chest, Shelley wondered if life on this island would work for her. If they couldn't stay here, she'd have to get Gray on her side quickly, finish his project, get them both back to California.
For now, she would at least take care of the stolen tapes, all Gray's precious research.
They needed to be hidden somewhere Gray wouldn't stumble across them, just in case he got curious.
Then, she'd head back to the Square. Maybe he was waiting for her there with the rest of his co-workers, ready to enjoy a welcome drink.
She shouldn't have left Cici and Declan, but marking her territory at Gray's place had felt more urgent.
She grabbed her wetsuit from where it hung.
The sleeves and legs would hold the tapes snugly, the neoprene ensuring they didn't rattle around, and it would muffle the sound if the tapes shifted.
Then, she stuffed the wetsuit into her dry bag, although if she was honest, the bag wasn't particularly dry anymore after years of use.
Still, it would hide any lumps, and no one would suspect anything since she'd been carrying it with her today.
Satisfied with her hiding spot, Shelley leaned back, hugging her knees and letting out a laugh.
She'd get Gray out of here, back on track, and focused on what really mattered: her.
Once he was back in California and had published his paper, he would forget about the island and the girl.
He'd only known that head trainer for a month; there was no way after years of making her feelings known to him he'd start a relationship with someone else.
Not her Gray, the quiet and reserved man.
He was too careful and focused on his career to fall for someone so fast. He'd thank her for everything she'd done to save him from this treacherous place.