14. Grey

Chapter 14

Grey

Me: I finished it.

I hit send on my text message to Delilah, the romance novel I've just finished devouring laying on the empty side of my bed.

Hudson's words of advice churn around my mind. Just tell her. Change her mind.

Two grey ticks light up the screen of my phone, quickly turning blue as Delilah reads my message. I flick my tired eyes up to the time in the corner, finding it to be the early hours on Wednesday morning.

Delilah: did you like it? x

Me: weren't you going to tell me it ended on a cliffhanger? x

Delilah: nope x

Me: I need the second book asap x

My thumbs bounce across the screen, thinking of what to say next.

Me: I didn't expect you to be up so late x

Delilah: couldn't sleep… just getting on with some work instead x

Me: You work too much :/

Delilah: I know x

My eyes are closing when Delilah's last text comes through. Realistically, I should have been fast asleep hours ago, but I'd made myself stay awake, eyes burning, to see what happened between the girl and her five men.

I blink sleepily, and the next moment I open my eyes my morning alarm is blaring in my ear. Unsticking my face from my pillow, I lick my dry lips, brain all a static. The book still lies beside me, my phone still in my hand, the edges leaving an imprint on my flesh from where I've gripped it so tight.

Holding the phone up to my face, I unlock the device, Delilah and I's text thread still open.

Delilah: Goodnight Grey x

I'm trying to think of a reply, a way to carry on our conversation, but my brain isn't fully awake yet, when Hudson knocks on my door once and then barges in, already up and dressed.

"You up? Wanna hit the gym before you're at work?"

Hudson's idea of ‘hitting the gym' is him heading off to the weight machines, while I do a quick warm up on the treadmill, and then head into the direction of the private pool to do a few laps and blow off some steam.

We meet back up an hour and a half later in my apartment, Hudson's hair wet with sweat, mine with chlorine, chewing at our scrambled eggs I've cooked us up for breakfast.

I stare around as I eat, finding no trace of my younger brother now living with me, except for the new protein powder containers littering the countertop beside my coffee machine. "Hudson, if you want to talk about it—"

"I don't," he grunts. "I'll keep it tidy, keep it clean. All my shit is in my room… I won't be in your hair long."

"Stay as long as you need." I stand, washing out my plate. "It'll be nice to have the company… just tell me if you're bringing a girl round, alright? So, I can make myself scarce."

Hudson doesn't bite at my joke, too engrossed in whatever's happening on his phone and the plate of food in front of him. He's gone by the time I return from my shower, dressed in my work shorts, backwards facing cap and bright yellow lifeguard t-shirt. I really wish it wasn't quite so bright, in case it draws attention but there's not a lot I can do, other than pray that it doesn't. At least, it hasn't so far.

"A car for you today, Mr Millen?" Victor, the doorman, asks once I step into the lobby.

No, is on the tip of my tongue, but something makes me change my mind at the split second. "Yeah please, if it's not too much bother."

"No bother at all. I'll get someone to bring the car round."

The car in question is sleek black, with tinted out windows in the back and a shit ton of leg room.

"Air conditioning, Mr Millen?" asks my driver through the plastic partition, before I've even strapped myself in.

"Just a little bit, please."

I lean back in my leather seat as we set off at a smooth pace, the streets of London and the Kensington borough sailing past. It's a pretty sight, don't get me wrong, but it's different seeing London from the back of a private car, and even after all this time, I'm still not used to it. I don't think I ever will be.

We pull up to the back of the leisure centre, allowing me to step out and thank my driver with a smile. "Just give us a ring, Mr Millen, if you need a ride back."

"Will do."

At work, nobody treats me differently, something I'm extremely grateful for. I spend my morning checking the chlorine levels of the pools, waving to regular swimmers, and sitting in the tall lifeguard's chair until my arse is numb and the right side of my face is perpetually warm from the sun's rays shining through the glass windows.

Around one in the afternoon, I take my lunch break. Hopping down from the chair, legs stiff and protesting, I stretch them out by walking three streets along from the leisure centre, ducking into a popular coffee shop to grab a coffee and a sandwich.

My phone buzzes while I'm sitting down, Blake's contact name flashing up on the screen.

"Hello? Everything okay, mate?" I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder, using my two hands to rip into the packaging keeping my chicken and stuffing sandwich fresh.

"Yeah." The sound of fingers flying over a keyboard kiss my ears. "Just thought I'd ring you on my lunch break to see how Hudson's settling in at yours. I did try ringing his phone, but he didn't pick up."

I pop off the plastic lid covering my coffee cup, blowing at the whisps of steam erupting from the surface. "I think he's fine. He won't say much."

"Same as always, then. And you?"

"What about me?"

"Delilah?"

I take a sip of my much too hot latte, simply for something to do. "I'm seeing her today for her swimming lesson."

"And?"

"And nothing," I say, sinking my teeth into the brown bread. "I don't know what I'm going to say to her yet."

"The famous Grey Millen having trouble getting a girl… I never thought I'd see the day."

"Shut the fuck up," I grumble. It's second nature for my eyes to flick around to see if anybody has overheard our conversation, before I realise nobody but me can hear Blake over the phone.

I'm on edge for the rest of the day, Blake's words echoing in my mind, and I hate it. Every second of it.

I walk quickly back to work at lunch, keeping my head ducked down, fiddling with my cap until it covers my forehead and eyes. Hours pass by in a blur, the large hand of the clock above the pool, ticking steadily spiking my blood pressure with every beat.

My heart pumps at a faster rate than usual, a mixture of coffee plus nerves and I'm seriously debating if I have time to jump into the pool and complete a few laps, before Delilah arrives, to soothe myself, when a vision in blue begins to walk my way.

Holy fuck.

My heart gallops in my chest, making me feel as if I'm about to pass out, while the blood running through my veins switches direction, heading down south to my cock.

Delilah glides towards me wearing a dark blue bikini, the bottoms cheekily high cut and her top plunging, a pretty frill lining her shoulders.

Fixated, I watch the bounce of her tits, practically spilling out from her bikini top, as she walks, and I know…

She's done this on fucking purpose.

"Hi, Grey."

I swallow roughly, fingers reaching out to trace the full, upper flesh of her breast, noticing the way gooseflesh ripples there. Delilah's breath hitches, but she doesn't stop me, instead, her own fingertips glide along the hem of my t-shirt, dipping beneath.

We're touching each other like we're alone, like this is normal, like we didn't agree to never do this again because it was just supposed to be a two-time thing.

I lean down to skim my lips across the shell of Delilah's ear. "This is a dangerous game you're playing, gorgeous."

She says nothing, simply watching me through her lashes.

"Get in the pool."

Delilah does as I ask without another word, catching hold of the foam float I throw her way, her eyes following my every move as I slip into the water too.

"We'll start with a refresher on floating, and go from there, okay?"

"Yes, Grey."

Gripping the edges of the float, Delilah hitches it under her ribcage, leaning forward, chest supported on the float, legs straight out behind her – suspended safely in the water.

In this position, her heavy tits are pushed together even more creating a deep line of her cleavage. I feel my jaw tick, knowing I can't reach and touch her. Claim her.

"Perfect, Delilah," I praise, pinching the front edge of the float, my thumbs so close to the swell of her breasts, so I can pull her along. "All I want you to do is kick your legs out behind you, try and kick them beneath the water to propel yourself forward but not splash."

I don't know what's changed, but Delilah's dislike of the water seems to have disappeared. She picks up the floating and kicking skill easily, completing laps of the pool, until I'm getting her to spread her arms wide and push the water away, still supported by the float.

"Good, good… keep kicking!" Once we reach the shallowest end for the fifth time, I turn Delilah and the float with ease, directing us back up to the deep end.

"I bought you the second book." Delilah's eyes flitter around my face, as she talks; one minute dipping down to my lips when my tongue flicks out to wet them, and another minute staring into my eyes.

"Shit. I left the first one at home, I—"

Delilah laughs, the sound echoing against the walls. "Don't worry about it, Grey. You can just give it to me next week."

"That first book was filthy, you know. She made him spit in her mouth."

"Hmm."

"Is that your way of trying to tell me something, Delilah?"

Delilah hums noncommittedly again, although she can't seem to get rid of the blush beginning to stain her makeup-less cheeks.

"And this?" I run my finger across the thin strap of her bikini. " This you're wearing… I'm not even sure where to start with the thoughts running through my mind."

Delilah's throat bobs delicately.

"Can I be honest with you?"

She leans in that little bit closer at my soft tone. "Of course, Grey."

"I like you, Delilah. This weekend… it wasn't enough. Not for me, anyways."

"Grey, I—"

"Please, tell me the truth, do you like me too?" God, it feels juvenile coming out of my mouth, but I can't stop myself. I think I know what her answer's going to be, but I want to hear it. I need too.

She sighs, eyes softening in the corners just like they had every time she'd looked at me over the weekend. By Monday morning, that look had vanished. "I wouldn't have spent this weekend with you if I didn't."

"And are you done with me?"

Delilah opens her mouth, closes it and then speaks, her eyes downcast. "I don't date, Grey. I can't."

"Answer my question… are you done with me? Because I'm not done with you, Delilah. You're not out of my system, far fucking from it, you're all I can think about…"

"No." She raises her eyes to mine, lash line watery. "You're not out of my system, Grey. I don't want to be done with you… but I'm terrified."

I want to take away the fear and trepidation bubbling through Delilah.

Threading my fingers through hers against the foam, I squeeze tightly. "If you had a choice, if you were free to decide without worries or doubts, would that change your opinion on dating?"

"Maybe."

"I want to be that person, Delilah. I want to change your opinion, prove your doubts wrong. Please. Give me a chance, let me try."

Delilah's fighting with herself in her head, I know she is. Her spiralling thoughts are practically audible.

"Please, gorgeous. Let me take you out."

"On a date?"

I nod.

"And then what?"

"And then we see how we both feel, what we want to do next. Give us a chance, Delilah. I won't let you get hurt. "

We've been standing motionless for so long; the water has stilled around us. It laps at my waist gently, soothing me, calming my pulse. My heart is still battering in my chest, as I wait for her answer, but I don't feel nervous.

No, this feels right.

"Okay."

"Delilah—"

She silences me with a kiss, her forehead pressing against mine, as she whispers, "I want to go out with you, too, Grey."