Bound (Bound Duet Book 1) Page 18

  “I wish you wouldn’t do this.” It was all I could come up with. God, for being so smart, I acted like an imbecile…So much for poetic words and compelling arguments.

  “It’ll work out best for us…in the long run.”

  He honestly believed that shit. Or, this was the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech.

  “So your decision’s already made?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from cracking.

  “I talked to Topher last night and a lot of what he said made sense. I’ve asked too much of you and haven’t given you anything in return.”

  “Talked to him about what?”

  “Topher thought we had a fight. He raked me over the coals when I told him we hadn’t had an argument and told me what a piece of shit he thought I was for leaving you after all I’d forced you to sacrifice. He doesn’t get mad much, but Annie he was fucking pissed. I realize you two aren’t tight, but he cares about you, and he made it clear he thought I’d crossed the line.”

  “What does that mean, Gray? How does Topher’s opinion of you or our relationship end up with you leaving? Shouldn’t it result in you staying to prove him wrong? I don’t understand.” I tried not to wail but had a hard time.

  “Topher’s concern wasn’t whether we had a disagreement or not, Annie. He thought I was a pussy for not manning up. He didn’t care what I tried to process, only that I was taking you down. He was livid, and he kept saying you deserve better than me.”

  “Huh?” I couldn’t wrap my mind around what he’d said.

  “You don’t ask me for anything, never push me for a commitment, you just love me, unconditionally. You’re a great catch, and if I’m too blind to see it, someone else will.” He paused for a moment and then admitted, “Those are Topher’s words, not mine. But he’s right.”

  My face hurt from holding the muscles in this perplexed state for so long. Permanent wrinkles would likely mar my forehead, and an angry grimace would plague my face after this. The pinch in my lips had them dried out, and I ground my teeth so hard I was wearing down the enamel.

  “Annie, he’s right. If I love you but am unwilling to give you what you deserve in return—what you need from me—then as a man, the best thing I can do for you is walk away. It’s not fair for you to deal with my indecisive bullshit. And the truth is, you won’t walk away from me. Ever.”

  “So your answer is to leave…after two years…with no discussion with me about it? Instead of acting like an adult and not living life like a hormonal teenager with no responsibility, you’d rather walk away from someone you love?”

  He didn’t respond but boldly answered with silence.

  “Okay, Gray. When are you moving out?”

  “I packed my stuff this morning. I already took it to Topher’s. That’s where I’ve been all day.”

  I couldn’t breathe—completely stunned—I refused to cry in front of him. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

  Unable to maintain my composure long, I stood to go to the bathroom, the words casually flowed from my lips, but inside, he gutted me and left me raw, just barely holding on. “Leave your key on the counter in the kitchen, Gray.”

  The wood door of the bathroom had never felt as heavy as it did when I closed it behind me. The quiet click of the striker locking in place echoed through the air like gunfire. My back to the door sealed the final barricade as I slid to the floor and allowed the tears to flow silently.

  Gray’s footsteps out of the bedroom and down the hall rang out like “Taps” playing in my mind. The finality of the front door slamming startled me, and I flinched, pressing my eyes tightly shut, shell-shocked by the experience. I allowed myself a few moments to release the initial ache in my soul before wiping my face with the backs of my hands and exited my makeshift bomb shelter.

  He left.

  His key sat on the bar counter. Curling into a ball on the couch, I pulled a throw over my body. There was nothing on TV, but it didn’t really matter since I couldn’t focus on anything other than the immense pain anyway.

  I attempted to escape reality and pull away from the world. My phone went off repeatedly, ringing, text messages, voicemails. I didn’t answer or acknowledge any of them. After two days of isolation, unwilling to attend school or work, the knocks on my door started. I hadn’t gotten off the couch to do anything other than pee and occasionally throw up. The emotional stress was killing my digestive system, leaving me nauseous and unwilling to eat. Despondent and morose, I was still ignoring the pounding on my door when it suddenly swung open. The maintenance guy peeked his head in to find me alive on the couch. I was a sight to behold—a sleep deprived, sickly being with greasy, unwashed hair, lying lifeless on the sofa.

  Once he saw me, he turned behind him and notified whoever had summoned him to my rescue. “She’s here.” He swung the door completely open, letting Gray in uninvited before closing the door behind him. If the guy had bothered to stay, he would have seen the obvious irritation marking my brow.

  “Bird Dog, why haven’t you answered my calls or the door?” He studied me intently, answering his own question. “You look horrible, are you still sick?”

  “Why are you here, Gray?”

  “Hell, Annie, I’ve been calling you for two days, sent you text messages, called your friends, been by multiple times, and you haven’t responded. Worry would be at the top of the list of reasons why I’m here.”

  “Sorry, I haven’t responded quickly enough for you. As you can tell, I’m fine.” I was being a bitch, but I couldn’t help myself. If I let my guard down and treated him with anything other than contempt, he’d continue to drag me through this charade.

  “Don’t be like that. I told you I don’t want things between us to change. You’re still mine, Annie. I’m still yours.”

  “You’ve never been mine, Gray. Just go.”

  He reached out to me, but I flinched and caused him to pull away. He stood without another word and left a sullen mute. My heart broke into a million pieces when the door closed behind him again.

  The next morning, I forced myself to get off the couch in favor of a shower—my first effort at feeling human in days. Once clean and dressed, I checked my voicemail, text messages, and emails and returned those I could without actually talking to anyone. Lynn and Jenny freaked out no thanks to Gray’s panicked calls alerting them to my disappearance. I informed them he’d overreacted a smidgen since I was just sick, but was clearly breathing and fine. Lynn responded immediately—she was on her way over with chicken soup. I sighed. I wasn’t interested in having company or entertaining anyone, but I couldn’t avoid them all forever. There were a ton of texts and several voicemails from Gray. I didn’t read or listen to them—I simply deleted them. There was no point. They wouldn’t change anything.

  Lynn showed up and unpacked the chicken soup onto the coffee table in front of me. The smell sent me straight to the bathroom where I dry heaved for five minutes. When I returned to the living room, she asked me how long smells had been bothering me.

  It’s not the smells. It’s the virus.

  “Annie, when was the last time you had your period?” she challenged me.

  “I don’t know. I’m on the pill; it’s irregular anyhow, so I never worry about it, why?”

  “You’ve been sick for days, smells bother you, you have no fever, your emotions are all over the place, all of which are very uncharacteristic of you. And you’re throwing up…” She trailed off.

  “I did have a fever even if I don’t now. And I’m on the pill, Lynn. I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re insinuating.” I folded my arms over my chest, indignant.

  “We should get a test just to be sure.”

  “I’m not wasting money on a pregnancy test, Lynn. It’s stress.”

  “Okay, then I’ll get one. You won’t mind peeing on a stick for me since there’s no chance you’re preggers, right?” Sometimes she could be so smug.

  It was a good thing I loved her, or I might have had to smack her.


  “If you want to waste your money, have at it.” With that, she was out the door and back about five minutes later, pushing me to the bathroom.

  “Aren’t you supposed to take these first thing in the morning?”

  “Don’t worry, I got more than one. If it’s negative today, you can take another one when you get up. If you are pregnant, it’ll probably show up today.” She tore open the package, tossed the box into the trash can, and handed me the stick. “Hold it in your pee. The stick does the rest.”

  I obeyed her instructions, put the cap back on the end, and set it on the counter, while I flushed the toilet and pulled up my pants. The box clearly said it took three minutes to get the results, but it seemed as though someone pushed the fast forward button. In no time flat, two bold lines appeared. They glowed like a neon sign.

  POSITIVE.

  Holy hell! Oh my God. I was fucking pregnant. Gray had moved out, and I was fucking pregnant. I started to hyperventilate, so Lynn closed the toilet lid and pushed me to a sitting position on top of it.

  “Breathe, Annie!” Her hands pressed on my shoulders, her eyes trained on mine, encouraging me. “Just breathe. We’ll figure this out.”

  Moments of silence passed by. “Figure it out…yeah. Lynn, you have to promise you won’t tell Gray.”

  “What do you mean? You’re not going to tell him?” The shock was prevalent in her voice and maybe borderline anger. “Why the hell would you not tell him? You can’t raise a baby on your own. He has a right to know about his child. He loves you, Annie. He’ll love the baby, too!”

  “Lynn, he left. He moved in with Topher days ago. There was no discussion, he made the decision and moved out. If I do this, it will be on my own. Gray never needs to know.”

  “Sorry, Annie, but I’m not agreeing to that. You have to tell him. He has every right to know.” She brushed right by the fact he had moved out, that we had broken up, that I was in this state and he wasn’t around.

  “He will think I’m trying to trap him. It’s awfully convenient for him to move out, and a few days later, I find out I’m pregnant even though I’m on the pill. He will be furious. I’d rather not deal with that.”

  She shook her head and said, “I’ll give you some time, but I’ll tell him if you don’t. Do you want me to stay and hang out or do you want to be alone?”

  “Alone.”

  She hugged me, told me if I need anything to call her and to stop avoiding everyone, and then she left.

  A few minutes later, my phone rang. Without glancing at the caller ID, I answered assuming it was Lynn.

  “Hey, baby.” It was Gray…great.

  “Hey, Gray.”

  “Can I come by, please?”

  “Did Lynn call you?”

  “Lynn? No. Why?” He sounded confused.

  “No reason. Why do you need to come by?” I asked.

  “Jesus, Annie, you’re my girlfriend. I haven’t seen you in days. I love you, and I miss you. I want to come see you.”

  “Listen, Gray, I look like hell and feel even worse. Today’s not a good day.”

  “Bullshit, you’re punishing me for moving out. I’ll be over in thirty minutes. That gives you time to get up and get dressed.”

  He disconnected before I could respond. Staring at the phone in my hand, I had several options, none of which held much promise in my book. I could get my ass up and put on something to look halfway decent, ignore my door and hope the maintenance guy didn’t let Gray in again, or leave and miss the confrontation altogether. While option three was the most appealing, I simply didn’t have the energy to vacate my apartment, so I went with option one. I didn’t bother to put on anything decent, just jeans and a T-shirt, and cuddled back up on the couch. I let Gray in after he knocked, but it was weird having him knock on our door. I had lived here before he moved in, so technically, it was my door, but he’d been here for so long that I smelled him everywhere, and right now, it was the only scent that wasn’t making me want to vomit.

  Gray followed me to the couch, sat down next to me and towed me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. I missed him, and his embrace was way too comforting. The familiarity of his Davinci cologne assaulted my senses when I rested my head on his shoulder. That scent reminded me of him—evoked memories that gave me the illusion of comfort and security. I nuzzled into his embrace and enjoyed the peace it offered even if for just a moment. This would end horribly, but right now, it felt incredibly good.

  “I’ve missed you. Are you feeling any better? You scared the shit out of me not answering your phone.”

  “I’m okay, just drained.” I wasn’t interested in conversation or idle chitchat. I wanted him to hold me so I could pretend like nothing had changed. I wanted to hide in the false sense of comfort his arms provided. He tipped my chin and took my mouth with his. It was sweet and gentle. His tongue eased my lips apart before finding mine. With the first swirl in my mouth, the heat ignited between my legs, and he hardened beneath me. He secured his hand behind my head and drew me closer to deepen the kiss while his thumb caressed my cheekbone.

  Pulling apart, he touched his forehead to mine. The gesture had always been one of profound intimacy—I peered into his soul and connected with him on a level I had never connected with anyone else.

  “I want to feel your skin on mine, Bird Dog.”

  I nodded in agreement at his whispered words, spineless and unable to tell him to leave. It would be agony later, but right now was all I could focus on. He stood with me in his arms and made his way to my room. He was loving and affectionate in his touch, slow and smooth, and took his time to thoroughly admire my body. My fingers perused his taut muscles, kissed his pecs as my hands slowly explored downward, and stopped at the V at his waist. I worked to undo his pants, pushing them to his ankles. He reciprocated, taking his time undressing me, using his eyes as much as he had his hands. The bright blues locked with mine, and he stroked my cheek with his hand, then kissed me softly on the lips. Then he softly breathed the words, “I love you, Bird Dog. I always will,” in my ear.

  I returned the sentiment, but it was breathy and weak. My breasts pressed against his chest, and the warmth of his body on mine devoured me as we laid back on the bed.

  “Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured onto the skin on my neck.

  Without hesitation, I replied, “The leg.” He knew exactly what I was talking about—it was our thing. He positioned me like a pretzel to hit the spot inside no one else had ever touched. He moved in a determined fashion with steady rolls of his hips like the revolutions of a perfectly timed clock. We kissed endlessly, our tongues tangling, making my orgasms that much stronger. I came twice before he reached the edge.

  “Come with me,” he commanded, like bringing myself to a third orgasm in less than an hour was an easy task. Stronger, faster, harder, but still with the same gracefulness—Gray moved in tandem with me.

  Tightening within—losing control. I tossed my head back as the surges coursed through my inner walls. Tangled in each other’s embrace, we laid still, our pulses returning to a resting rate as our breathing stabilized. Finally releasing me, he went to the bathroom to clean up.

  The toilet flushed, and I expected him to return to bed, but his barking startled me. “Annie, what the fuck is this?”

  I rolled over to see what had him in an uproar, and my eye caught the box. No, no, no, no, no! Shit. I said nothing, hoping he’d forget what was in his hand and that he had asked me a question. No such luck.

  “Annie, did you hear me?” He closed in on me, fast. I tried to make a break for it, but he grabbed me by the waist with one arm snaked around my front, pulled me down on the bed, and shoved the box in my face.

  “Um…” It was a tricky question to answer. Technically… “It’s a pregnancy test box.” That was pretty clearly written on the package.

  “I can read, Annie. Why is it in the trash can in your bathroom?”

  Unsure whether he was mad or shocked
, I treaded lightly and said, “Lynn brought it over earlier.” That was vague and noncommittal.

  “I’m going to ask this one last time, baby. What is this?”

  Without responding, I stood up and walked to the bathroom. The drawer squeaked as I opened it to retrieve the evidence of his impending parenthood. Side by side on the bed, I handed him the plastic life changer and turned the box over so he could see the two pictures that indicated the test results: two lines for positive, one for negative.

  Then I waited.

  And waited.

  He was eerily quiet—I couldn’t even hear him breathe. There was no reaction of any kind. He simply sat there with his life in one hand and trash in the other. I filled the silent void with insipid rambling, talking so fast I wasn’t sure he even heard the words I was said, or if they were coherent.

  “Look, Gray, I wasn’t going to tell you. I know you don’t want a baby, and you moved out to get away from the commitment. I’m not trying to pin you down to anything. Honestly, I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to do. I just found out today. I thought I had the flu, and that’s why I’ve been sick. Lynn was the one who insisted I take the test. I completely forgot it was in the trash can. I wasn’t expecting you to be here…” I trailed off. This resembled a bad Hallmark after-school special.

  He stared at me like there were snakes coming out of my head. My dad had always taught me when pitching a sale, the first person to break the silence conceded to the one who had remained close-lipped. I had broken the silence, and therefore the cardinal rule.

  He set the test and the box down on the nightstand before he stood. He leaned down to kiss my forehead, and said, “I’ll call you later, Annie.”

  I panicked—he couldn’t leave like this. I wouldn’t let him. “Gray, where are you going? We should talk about this.” He could hear the desperation in my voice.

  I saw the disappointment in his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes I’d found so much comfort in now showed nothing but sadness.

  “Annie, I need time to think. I’ll call you later.” He didn’t wait for a response before he was out the front door, closing it softly behind him.