Page 75 of Lessons In Grey

My cheeks burned bright red. “It sounds so prudish when you say it like that.” I chewed on my lip. “I want to get one.”

He chuckled, the sound falling from his lips, dusting across the air between us before it landed on mine. “So long as I’m there when you pop that little cherry of yours.”

My heart thudded. “Okay,” I whispered.

His eyes were near black now. “Okay,” he mumbled.

The sound of the garage door opening felt like the equivalent of being caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

My heart leaped into my throat and Grey stepped back, giving me space to sit in the panic as my eyes found the garage doors. It was just Ash and Syn, it wasn’t Jordan. Everything was fine. I was fine.

They opened, revealing everything that had been stripped in that house what felt like a lifetime ago.

I pushed away from the car, and felt my breath catch when I saw all of the boxes, the wrapped paintings, the portable closets filled with clothes almost a year unworn.

I felt his hand slide into mine as we slowly made our way to the garage, slowing to a stop just yards away from one of the open doors.

Ash and Syn were inspecting what was there. Syn had a truck, Ash a 4runner, and Grey his sports car. There wasn’t much room, and suddenly it felt like there were thousands of things to pack. Maybe I should leave something? Maybe it wasn’t all important.

“Okay,” Ash said, hands on her hips. “Let me think.”

Seconds ticked by as I took it all in. Memories upon memories not forgotten just repressed. There for the taking. I had locked them away just as I had locked their belongings away.

Halfway out of the dark.

The words repeated over and over in my head, settling along my spine, across my bones, seeping into my soul. That’s what wewere, wasn’t it? It sounded right. It had to be right.

How had I locked them away?

“Okay, I’ve got it. Let’s put all of the paintings in my car,” she said. “I can put down the seats and we can lean them up against one side. We’ll stuff in the lighter boxes with them, maybe take some clothes out of the closest to protect them.”

“There are blankets,” I said distantly, my stomach twisting. “In a big old, dark red trunk in the corner. It’s from the 1800’s, or that’s what we—what we decided when we found it.” I had detached myself from this, hadn’t I? I had refused to see it. To really, truly see it.

Ash and Syn watched me for a moment before Syn turned to the garage, standing on her tiptoes to try and see back behind everything. “I have to ask, Em. Is there anything you want to leave?” Ash asked, worry in her eyes.

I swallowed, watching as Syn found a path to the back of the garage. “Found it!” she called. “How many do you want?”

When I didn’t answer, Ash turned to her. “Like three of them, at least. The big things we’ll put in the back of the truck and pile boxes around everything. Navarro?”

“Hmm?”

“How much room do you have in your puny little city-man city-car?”

I glanced over, trying to find some sort of peace within him. How had I just detached myself from this so fully? I thought I had dealt with it. Wasn’t that what the therapy had been about during those first six months? Me dealing with all of this? Now it felt as if there was suddenly a large crack in a dam I had known nothing about.

He frowned deeply, his eyes narrowing. “I can fit a few boxes in the back.”

I turned back to the garage.

Ash held up her index and thumb about an inch apart.

She was trying to get me to laugh, trying to make this intosomething fun.

His eyes narrowed to slits. “A few small boxes, yes.”

“Great,” she beamed. “Thanks.”

Syn rolled her eyes. “Ignore her,” she called, pulling the blankets out of the trunk.