Page 56 of Prove Me Wrong
I shake my head against the headrest. “Not yet. Maybe another hour.” My normally warm tone sounds cold and distant.
“Okay.”
She doesn't sound bothered or annoyed that I've interrupted her evening. I wish I didn’t have to, but her voice alone centres me. Just hearing it grounds me.
“Grey?” My voice cracks a little on her name.
“Yeah?” Her voice matches mine, a little wary.
Raking at hand through my hair, I gaze around at the blackened area outside, listening to the sounds of the night on the other side of the car windows. “Can you stay on the line with me until I’m home?”
She’s silent for a moment, and my heart sinks a little. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere, thirty-four.”
My lips quirk at her name for me. I close my eyes, balancing my phone on my lap. “Thank you.” The two words escape my mouth like a secret.
“Are you sure that you’re okay, though?”
Eyes shut, I nod again, letting the pent-up anger flow out of me the longer I sit in the silence of my car. “I will be. I just need a moment.”
“Did something happen?”
My voice comes out rougher than usual. “Yes.”
“Okay,” she breathes out, and I hear her shutting a door. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Swallowing, my breathing slows to a normal rate. I hate that my parents bring back all the anxiety and heartache of that night. It still pains me to think about. I want to move on. I have moved on. But there’s still something that lingers in the back of my mind, reminding me of what happened. About how selfish my parents are. Of how alone I feel.
“Thank you, Grey.” My heart beats heavier knowing that I at least have her for now. And hopefully forever…
Chapter Twenty
MIA
My hands flow over the keys, pressing down as my feet stamp the pedals, droning out notes that flutter in the air. Nimble fingers glide over the ivory keys; I don’t bother looking at the sheet in front of me. The Für Elise is a favourite of mine, and I know it like the back of my hand, which is currently cramping with how quickly I’m having to shift notes.
The song plays out perfectly as I get sucked into the music, blocking out the rest of the world. This is exactly what I needed after therapy and my iced latte, which I happily gulped down.
Charlotte told me to follow my heart with my decision, which honestly sounds like a heap of baloney to me. Follow my heart?I can’t, Charlotte, because my heart wants to be in two separate places, which is physically impossible.
Fumbling a note, I grit out a frustrated groan and start again, my fingers moving with the fast rhythm.
Nearing the end of the song, a knock on the door interrupts my concentration, forcing me to stop mid-bar. My hands press down, throwing off dull notes. I stand and shuffle across Gran’s living room to answer it.
Throwing open the door, my gaze collides with bright green irises beaming down at me like two ripe apples full of attraction and longing. They look at me as if they can see the walls built up surrounding me, protecting me, but they’re also determined to pull them down. That tenacity heavy in his gaze makes my spine shiver, hands clammy and throat sticky. It's so intense, and part of me doesn’t want him to stop until he breaks through the barrier guarding my heart, to find its weakness and tear it apart.
My gaze falls to the small bunch of flowers in his hand, and then to Jade standing at his feet with a hand grabbing onto his pant leg. I can’t stop the smile spreading across my cheeks. “Flowers?” I question, lifting a brow at him.
Noah’s mouth curls upwards as he hands them to me. A mixture of white, purple and pink petals, wrapped in paper and twine. They smell absolutely divine.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur.
He grins, showing off the dimples that I adore seeing.
“Just like you, Grey.” His timbre is gentle and smooth, like honey dripping off his tongue, running along my skin, and making it shiver with delight.
My cheeks pinken at his words, insides melting as I dip my chin, not wanting him to see how flushed he makes me.
I’m happy that he’s feeling better this morning. Last night, when Noah returned from his night with his friends, he seemed a little duller, like something had stolen part of his light. It made my chest knot knowing that he was upset. He didn’t want to talk about it, but I could feel it.
