Until You (Off-Limits)

I twist and turn in bed, my mind replaying the way Gray was looking at me today, the way his fingers brushed against my breasts as he draped his jacket over my shoulders.

Thoughts of him are all that’s keeping me sane. It’s my ammunition against the niggling feeling that something might be wrong. I’ve barely been able to sleep lately, and every day my anxiety gets worse.

Tonight, I’m battling a sense of paranoia I used to experience every night, and not even thoughts of Gray keep them away.

I sit up in bed, my heart racing. Countless scenarios run through my mind, each worse than the one before. I try my hardest to resist the compulsion, knowing how irrational I’m being, but I can’t help myself.

I know no one is going to break into Gray’s house. There are too many checks to get through first. There’s security at the front door, the elevators are linked to key cards, and then there’s the actual front door itself, which has physical locks and an alarm system. Despite all of that, I can’t resist the urge to check that the doors are truly locked. That we’re safe.

It’s a routine I went through every single day after the robbery. It took a lot of therapy, but eventually I managed to stop checking every single night, and then the time in between my checks became weeks before they turned into months. I can feel that tonight is one of those nights, though… one of those nights where I know I’ll lose.

I swallow hard as my feet hit the cold floor, a sense of dread washing over me. I don’t want to do this, but that niggling feeling won’t go away until I see for myself that the door is locked. I won’t be able to sleep. I won’t be able to fight the nightmares.

I know it’s because I keep thinking of Peter Simmons. Every time I get another notification, I feel more conflicted. Just today, he donated some money to a charity named Brady. I looked it up, and it appears to be a charity against gun violence. Is it a way of repenting? I can’t help but overthink things. If my parents hadn’t owned the gun he managed to get his hands on, would they still be alive? By the time I walked into the house, it was too late. The gun was on the floor, and my parents were bleeding out. What if the gun hadn’t been there at all? Based on the police investigation, it appears he was surprised by my parents coming home earlier than expected. He seemed to have struggled with them for the gun, shooting my mother during the battle, and then my father once he got his hands on the gun. It’s why he couldn’t be put away for first degree murder. The best thing we could do was felony murder. The fact that he was unarmed is the only reason he’s a free man before completing his time.

I feel sick to my stomach as I slip out of my bedroom. I hope Gray is fast asleep already. The last thing I want to do is alert him to my weird behavior. I can’t even imagine what he’d think. He’s been seeing the worst parts of me lately. He spent hours with me last night, letting me talk about my parents until I fell asleep in his arms. I don’t want him to think badly of me. I don’t want him to feel like I’m a burden. If he finds out I can’t sleep again, he might feel so bad that he spends another night with me, and I don’t want to do that to him, no matter how much I need him tonight.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I reach the door and rest my palm against it, dropping my head to the cold wood. I hate this. I hate that I can’t fight it. I hate that the memories assail me every time I try. Even as I’m standing here, I’m trying to keep myself from unlocking and re-locking the door, but I can’t. I’m weak. I know it’s all in my head, yet I can’t fight this.

I inhale deeply as I unlock the door, the sound loud in the silence of the night. I turn the lock, and when it clicks closed, a rush of relief washes over me. I drop my forehead to the front door, feeling as helpless as I always do after having done this.

I turn to walk back to my bedroom and freeze in my tracks when I find Grayson leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed. He’s staring at me, the moonlight coming in from the windows illuminating his silhouette. He’s in nothing but black boxer shorts, and I can’t help the way my eyes roam over his body. He’s far more muscular than I imagined, and I force my gaze away, startled by my own thoughts.

He walks up to me, and my heart starts to race. Gray pauses in front of me and raises his hand to my face, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze is searching, and it makes me feel bared to him. I should be coming up with an excuse, a way to hide the vulnerability I’m feeling, but instead I find myself staring into his eyes. What I find there isn’t curiosity or confusion. It’s understanding, tinged with a hint of concern.

He cups my cheek, his thumb tracing over the edge of my lips. “You set off the silent alarm, Ari. This house is a fortress. It’s as safe as it’s going to get, sweetheart. You can’t even open the door if you haven’t turned the alarm system off first. Usually I’m the first person up and the last one to go to bed, so I never thought to show you. I’m sorry.”

I try my hardest to push down the sense of shame I feel and look away, my arms wrapping around myself without even realizing.

I’m about to come up with an excuse when Gray suddenly leans in. He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the living room, rendering me speechless.

“Grayson,” I whisper. He looks at me and smiles, making me forget about the excuses I’d come up with. He sits down on the sofa with me in his lap; our position the same as the night Brad broke my heart.

“When I can’t sleep, I’ll sit here and stare out the window. The view is so astonishing it melts away my worries. Tonight is the first night I don’t have to be alone as I sit here.”

His arms wrap around me, but his gaze is on the skyline in front of us. I relax in his arms and rest my head against his shoulder, my knees drawn up to my chest. We sit there like that, the two of us finding solace in the silence of the night.

“I can’t help it,” I whisper.

Gray tightens his grip on me, and I squeeze my eyes closed.

“I’ve done it ever since my parents were taken from me. When I get these feelings, I can’t go to sleep unless I’m sure the doors are locked. I can’t help it. I don’t want to do it, but if I don’t, I can’t keep my destructive thoughts at bay. I’ll worry that someone will break into the house, that we’ll get hurt. And I just keep thinking I could prevent it if I make sure the door is locked.”

Gray exhales shakily and pulls me closer, his lips settling against my temple. He presses a gentle kiss to my skin, and I try my hardest to blink away the tears that are gathering in my eyes.

“The way I grew up… not every house I lived in was as safe as I wished it was, so my home is outfitted with countless security measures. You’re safe here. But if that isn’t enough, know that you’ll always be safe in my arms, too. I’m here, Ari. I’ll help you keep those thoughts at bay.”

I swallow hard and throw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. Noah and I are both lucky to have Grayson in our lives. I rest my forehead against his shoulder, creating some distance between us. Having our bodies pushed together like this…

I lift my face to find him staring at me, his gaze intense — heated even. I force myself to smile through the thoughts that I shouldn’t be having. I shouldn’t be wondering what his lips might taste like. Just a few months ago, I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with Brad. Yet here I am. I’m a hypocrite. How could I be thinking about Grayson when my heart is still bleeding?

I lean in, my lips brushing against Gray’s cheek, and press a lingering kiss to his skin. I allow myself that much. One friendly kiss.

And then I flee. I jump off his lap and walk away, leaving him sitting in the living room, my heart in disarray.

I’ve only just calmed my raging heart when my phone buzzes, the Nemesis App lighting up my phone. My guilt only intensifies as I reach for it, knowing that there’s only one person who I’ve got my notifications turned on for.

Ash: Nyx… hypothetically, what would you recommend I do if I’m left with blue balls by someone who doesn’t even realize what she does to me?

My eyes widen as I re-read his text, and I can’t quite explain why my heart tightens the way it does. I bite down on my lip, pushing down the sudden heartache I have no right to feel. I’ve found myself in Grayson’s arms twice in a row now, and I enjoyed being in his embrace. I have no right to be jealous now.

Besides, I should’ve known that Ash was just joking around with me. I made the exact same mistake I made with Brad. With him, I also assumed he was flirting with me when I couldn’t have been more wrong. I swallow hard as I type my reply, my chest constricting painfully. I’m still the same fool I was then.

Nyx: Hypothetically… you should let her know. Whoever she is, she probably doesn’t even know what you think of her. Maybe she’s second guessing herself, wondering if you’re flirting with her or if she’s reading too much into things. Maybe all she needs is to hear those words.

Somehow, it hurts to think that Ash has someone he’s after. It hurts even more to know that once again I let myself be fooled into thinking someone might be into me. Of course he can’t be. He doesn’t even know me. He has no idea what I look like, and while I don’t know who he is either, I can tell he’s naturally charismatic. I wouldn’t be surprised if flirting is in his very nature. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Ash: I am. Nyx, I am flirting with you. I wish I had the balls to do something about the blue balls you keep giving me (appreciate the pun?)

I stare at my phone, confused. He was talking about me? I can’t figure out what he’s after, but he must have some sort of endgame. Is it my platform? He can’t want me because he doesn’t know me. Am I just a challenge to him?

Nyx: Very punny

I put my phone away, unable to stop overthinking everything. My thoughts keep turning to Grayson and the way he’s been making me feel lately. Tonight, simply texting Ash has me feeling guilty… and it shouldn’t because there’s nothing going on between Gray and me, is there?