Chapter 38: Hit by a Bus

When I wake up the next morning, Jay's already gone. His absence immediately sends a wave of sadness through me. Call me overdramatic but I don't like waking up without him; it equals an already crappy start to a monumentally bad day.

I vaguely remember him kissing me goodbye and informing me that he was leaving; I distinctly remember telling him off and rolling away from him so that I could continue to sleep. I'll apologize later.

I glance over at Slobs to see that he's still sleeping, little snores escaping him. I touch my temple, my head pounding. I'm overcome by a feeling of weakness and tiredness, the first signs that I'm getting sick.

I groan into my pillow before forcing myself out of bed. Lazy, I quickly get dressed in leggings, socks, and a white t-shirt. I walk downstairs to check up on Benley and Laiken. Ben's nowhere in sight and Laiken is still sleeping on the trampoline. I jump on it as hard as I can, sending him bouncing.

He wakes up in a fright, first registering where he is before glaring at me. "Have I ever told you that you're the worst?"

I nod. "All the time."

"Did Jay get lucky?" is the next thing he asks – he's obsessed with this.

"Nearly," I answer truthfully, too drained to put up a fight – it's easier to just answer him. "He stopped me. Apparently car sex is not what he wants."

Laik, still half asleep, merely frowns. "He's stupid. Car sex is the best." He drags himself into a sitting position and scans my appearance properly. "You look horrible. What the hell happened?"

I wince under his gaze. "I feel horrible. I'm nursing a terrible headache. I might be coming down with something."

"Pregnancy?" he jokes.

I ignore him and help him up to his feet instead. "Come on. Let's go and see what Grey has whipped up for breakfast this morning."

He walks after me. "Guys only makes breakfast for girls they're in love with," he hums.

I sigh. He intensifies my headaches. "He doesn't love me. I just steal whatever food he's made for himself," I clarify.

"And I bet you that he lets you," he retorts with a bratty grin.

On the way there, my phone chimes with new message alerts, all of them responding to the photo of Lai and Ley-Ley:

'Buffoons🤭' ~ Jezzie

'😂😂😂' ~ Ave

'I've always liked my brother most when he's like this. Very pleasant to be around😏' ~ Aqueela The Second

'Is that drool? Disappointing, Laik.' ~ Mel

'He peaked in high-school🙄' ~ Bell

'I can't believe that I was ever into him😱🤯🫣' ~ Mia

'Can someone please find my man and drag him home?' ~ Legend AJ

'Lagger-dragger for a reason😬...' Aqueela The Second

She's a child after my own heart.

'I'll find him.' ~ Legend Lawson

'Girl, you missed out on a great night! Missed ya, babe🌻!' ~ Jezzie

She proceeds by sending photos of the night, catching me up. There are photos of Sarah, Mia, and Ave dancing, of AJ stuffing her mouth full of food, of Lan and Max clearing the food table while Bell and Em shout at them, and of Troy and Ramos braiding each other's hair.

'Hons...was such a great night💋Good to see my gals. Chat soon!!!' ~ Troy Story

I snort, catching Laik's attention. Intrigued, he grabs my phone from me and begins reading all the latest messages. I watch his face pale and his eyes widen before he spins around to face me, an accusatory look in his eyes.

"I can't believe you let Jezel, Ava, and Mia see me like that!" he hisses, irritated and embarrassed by my actions.

I shrug. "It's way less humiliating if you just own it."

A 'thank you' for the blanket would be nice...

I open the door to the other side and head to the kitchen, surprised to find Ben there. He's busy cooking up a storm, helping himself to whatever he can find in the cupboards.

"You know that you don't live here, right?" Laik asks him, putting him in his place.

"You know that you don't live here either, right?" I ask, in turn, reminding him of the facts.

"And all three of you know that none of you live on this side, right?" Grey appears, leaning against one of the counters with his arms crossed.

"Your cupboards are empty," Ben replies, eyes on me. "Do you and Jay starve? Grey actually stocks up."

"We're busy all the time, okay?!" I complain. "We don't always have time to eat."

"That's bull and you know it," Laik comments, helping himself to some eggs and bacon.

"Are you guys ignoring me?" Grey asks us, annoyed at our audacity.

I take a seat at the counter and hide my head in my arms. I groan softly, ready to curl up and die. Thank goodness that it's Saturday or I'd have to miss work – not that it would be a problem for me.

"My back may be killing me from that ball pit but you look like hell, Aqueela," Ben tells me in no uncertain terms. "Your eyes are all puffy and your nose is red."

I hold up my middle finger, flipping him off, too weak to lift my head. "I feel like hell. I feel like I've been hit by a bus."

If Jay's not sick and suffering like me, I'm gonna be so pissed...

"Well, I need to get going. I'm visiting my mom and Zac today," Laik informs us. I feel his hand on my back. "You gonna be okay, Law?"

I nod wordlessly. "Sure."

"I can stay?" he hesitates.

"No, you should go," I encourage him.

He needs to see both of those people. They both need him. I'll survive.

"Great!" he replies before strutting away to get ready – he just drips model. "Because I really don't wanna deal with snot and coughing today."

So, on another day, he wouldn't mind?

"I better get going too. AJ's probably ticked that I didn't go home last night," Ben says, and he's not wrong. "You should see a doctor, Aqueela," he adds. "If you're still feeling like this later today, call me and I'll take you," he assures me before leaving too.

The kitchen falls silent, but I somehow feel Grey's gaze of concern burning through me.

He clears his throat, assessing me and the current condition that I'm in. "This is awesome, I've never seen you so quiet before."

I turn my head in my arms to meet his blistering gaze of ashes. "Yeah, well, that's because my time has come. I think I'm dying. The era of Aqueela is ending."

"Normally, I'd celebrate your well-deserved comeuppance, but this sight is just so pitiful that I can't even find joy in it," he fires back another lethal shot my way. "Also, I'm not sure that you would die even if you were stabbed directly through the skull."

"No," I argue weakly, "I'm severely dead. Can confirm. Wouldn't recommend."

I just want Jay. He's the only one who can bring me back to life.

"Benley's not wrong, by the way," Grey remarks, observing me and studying my every movement. "You do look more nightmarish than usual. You look like a dead marshmallow with all that puff."

I feel my lips move up on their own accord. "Stop. It's an effort to smile."

I manage to lift my head when my phone vibrates with a new message:

'Will be landing in France in a few hours. Tried to say goodbye but you nearly hit me in the face. Luckily, I know that's your way of showing me affection. Hope you have a great weekend. Love you, always Xx' ~ My Person

I don't reply straight away because I still feel guilty about ignoring him this morning and for refusing to watch him on TV. I also don't want to tell him that I'm sick, not when he needs to remain focused on free practice. They're relying on him for feedback, and I'll be damned if I ruin his chances of going further.

Plus, I'm already missing him so much. I'm feeling out of sorts and talking to him is only going to make me feel a thousand times worse – I'll just be longing for his warm hug that magically makes everything better.

"I can't believe you came to this side when you know that you're sick. And I can't believe that you're still here. You're infecting all of my furniture. I don't want your gross Lawson germs everywhere," he tells me pointedly, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

I'm going to let that slide because I know that he's a germ freak, and I've made him sick once before. He's paranoid over his health.

"You're so savage," I reply tiredly, fighting back a yawn. "You're the final nail in my coffin. Why can't you ever season your words with some sugar and honey? It's too early for you to be popping off like this."

"It's nearly lunchtime," he informs me, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever," I brush past it.

"Go back to your side already so that I can disinfect everything that you've touched here," he commands harshly, looking away from me.

"Jeez. I'm not diseased, Ferrot," I murmur, offended.

He scoffs. "I beg to differ. You're a walking illness in itself."

I wave him away and make a move to get off the high bar stool but as soon as I do, I feel my legs begin to give in. I stumble and nearly trip over my own two feet before a hand, his hand, latches onto my wrist, pulling me toward him.

Fortunately, I don't have to kiss the ground hello. Instead, I find myself pressed up against him with one of my hands resting on his shoulder. He's supporting me -- one hand holding my wrist and the other on my hip, keeping my feet just above the ground as I stand on his shoes.

"Are you always this injury prone? That was hard to watch," he mocks, propping me down and gently stabilizing me. "You even make standing look difficult," he adds when I clumsily lean all my weight onto him.

"Thank you for catching me. You're a real one." Overwhelmed, I nearly cry. "My appreciation for you, along with my hatred, is eternal," I compliment him, meaning it.

Perhaps I'm being overdramatic but my emotions are currently running high. I just feel super grateful to at least have someone with me when I feel this awful. I'm a baby when I'm sick and I hate being alone. Back in the day, I didn't have anyone to comfort me. Yolanda didn't care and Jay had yet to enter my life.

Grey places his arm around my waist and wraps my arm around his shoulders, lifting me onto my tippy-toes with his height, before walking me over to his couch.

"Have you lost weight?" he randomly asks me.

I shake my head, confused. "No."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he replies with snark.

My mouth falls agape. It takes a moment for me to collect myself again.

"You're so brutal with me," I whine like a child.

"That's because you're an adult-toddler and you drive me crazy," he contends, defending himself.

"Maybe if you were more delicate with me, I'd respond better to you?" I muse.

"Guess we'll never know," he says before disengaging from the conversation entirely.

He basically tosses me onto his couch. I land on my back with a shocked expression, my hair fluttering around my face – I wasn't expecting him to be so rough with me.

"Be softer! I'm fragile!" I scold him, using my fingers to try and neaten my hair. "Don't throw me around like a basketball! Also, I'm hungry! I think? I'm not sure! I don't understand my feelings! Just bring me food, inbred! I won't shut up until you do!"

He sighs as if talking to me is pure torture for him. "I'm not your damn slave, Lawson. I swear, you're the most painful woman that God has ever breathed life into."

Aww. Wholesome vibes.

I place a hand over my heart and smile, touched. "Thank you, my sweet seraph."

"Don't call me that," he mutters, a clear sign that he's about to explode – the calm before the storm.

I blow him a kiss and sit up, noticing the glare pass through his eyes.

I brush my loose hair to one side. I proceed to straighten out my appearance, pulling my top back down. I look up at him to find that he's still watching me.

I pout, my heart hurting. "I'm lonely."

Loneliness has to be one of the worst feelings...

Callous in nature, he meets my gaze without a care in the world. "What a shame."

I feel anxious when Jay isn't around. He's become my anchor and when he's gone, I feel like I'm going to fall apart. When did this start? What is wrong with me?

It's my turn to sigh heavily. "I love you, Grey, but as a result of your hurtful words and actions, our relationship is officially on life support," I chastise him, blaming him for it all.

"For the billionth time, Aqueela, what relationship?" he berates abrasively.

"The adorable one that we're in!" I protest, wanting him to acknowledge it.

"This insane mentality of yours is proving to be problematic for me," he says quietly, defeated. "It's not cute anymore."

"See. This is exactly why it's on life support...because of comments like that," I gripe, hyperboling the hell out of the situation. "I will always be cute."

"Are you off your head?" he questions with a scathing glimmer flickering through his gray eyes.

"We're friends and you know it," I assert confidently.

"You're delusional, woman!" 

"And you're in denial, man!" I snap back.

He runs a hand down his face, forcing himself to calm down. "If we do have some type of relationship and it really is on life support, then pull the plug already."

I gasp, taking offense.

He pays no attention to me and disappears for a moment before reappearing with gloves on and a mask covering half of his face. Astounded by the extent he's gone to, I watch him clean down everything that I've touched.

And I'm the one with the problematic mentality?!

"You're thorough," I tease.

"Shut up, lie down, sleep, and get better so that I can stop babying you," he retorts, taking his time.

I frown, cringing, as a flashback hits me. I recall a conversation where my dad said something similar to me when I was nagging him because I wasn't feeling well. My mom had just passed, and Yolanda hadn't entered the picture yet. I'll never forget that day because it was the first time that he ever lashed out at me.

A numb and dull ache takes over my soul as I ponder on the loss of not only my mom but my dad too. I lost him not long after I lost her. People do change and sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you simply can't change them back. My mom would be distraught if she could somehow see what he's turned into.

The pounding in my head only amplifies as a swarm of horrid memories take me captive. I feel the tears building behind my eyelids, my eyes stinging. In pain, I lift my knees to my chest and drop my head on my legs, willing it all to go away.

I don't want to feel like this. I only want Jay.

"Hey! Aqueela, hey!" Grey snaps his fingers in my face before shaking me by the shoulders, trying to break me from the spell.

I lift my head and offer him a sheepish smile, apologetic. "Sorry."

He pulls his mask down. "What the hell just happened?" he queries in distress, running a hand through his hair while crouching down before me. "I've been trying to talk to you for like three minutes straight and you were just not answering. It looked like you were hyperventilating."

He's eye-level with me now. It's difficult to look into his worried gaze and lie.

"I'm not sure what just happened. I think I got caught up in my own head," I reveal the truth to him but downplay it.

He drops his hands from my shoulders and lays them on my knees, leaning forward. "Do you...do you want me to take you to a doctor?"

I shake my head. "I hate doctors."

"What's really going on?" he shoots his shot, seeing through me.

"I'm not feeling well," I repeat the same story. "I woke up sick. But it might also be because I'm due to start my period soon. Sometimes, I start to feel unwell before that time of the month."

Jay's had to learn to deal with my periods, and he's done pretty great, I'll admit. He's usually so soft, sweet, and understanding when I get moody or cry for no apparent reason. He's no longer awkward about it.

Grey seems surprised by my bluntness, but my confession doesn't seem to deter him from his interrogation path. "Are you sure that it's just that?" he questions quietly, removing his hands. He searches my eyes for an answer. "Tell me the truth, Lawson. Nancy never acted like this when it was her time. I can only help if you tell me."

There's something so gentle about his tone; it catches me off guard. I almost never see this side to him, the side that he continuously shows to other girls. I'm the only female that he tends to insult and disrespect – as ridiculous as it sounds, he's always held a special place in my heart because of that.

I paint a smile on my face, hardly faking it. "I'm a little down but it doesn't matter because I have people like you in my life."

Against his will, I reach out and engulf him into a heartfelt embrace.

For once, as if sensing that I need it, he allows me to hug him. He doesn't reciprocate the action, but I don't need him to. His presence is my trickle of happiness today. I don't feel like myself and I'm not sure why. My subconscious is taunting me like it used to before I met Jay.

"Do you get emotional and strange just before your period too or is this just your normal?" Grey jokes with a straight face.

"Standard me," I reply, not easing up on my grip just yet.

"Alright, you're making me wildly uncomfortable. You done yet?" he asks, attempting to pull away.

I shake my head and yank him back to me. "Mmm-mh."

"No one has ever hugged me this much in my entire life," he breathes out, his patience wearing thin.

I love hugging him. He's my lifeline when Jay isn't around.

Who knew that a pillar of ice could exude so much warmth?

"You've been surrounded by idiots for most of your life then." I release him on my own accord, respectfully giving him his space.

I see him try to stifle a smile. "That's a fair assessment," he agrees with me after some contemplation on his end.

Sometimes, I wish I could climb inside his mind and read all his thoughts.

"In case you didn't know, you're the best of the best, Ferrot," I praise him, disarming any leftover irritation he has for me.

He shifts back with uncertainty, not used to me being nice to him. "Thanks, Aqueela."

"I'm sure that girl from last night thinks so too," I drop casually before letting out a yawn.

I can't change our dynamics completely – it wouldn't be fun anymore.

He tenses, registering, before his eyes flare up with rage. "Were you spying on me?!"

Ah, that's better. Order has been restored in the lands.

"No, Max and Landon were," I clarify, easily outing my friends. "I was just filled in by them."

Grey stands up, his sweet side dissolving into acid. "That's an invasion of privacy! No one respects boundaries here!"

"Was she at least pretty?" I press his buttons, playing around, using this as ammunition against him.

For me, humor helps block out the jarring memories, and I find nothing funnier than seeing Grey furious.

"Are you in love?" I sing.

"Probably," he answers in short, his gaze falling back to me.

"What's it like?" I keep the questions coming.

"Painful," he says, looking away.

Absentmindedly, I twirl a lock of my hair around my pinkie. I'm attuned to his emotions and I nearly feel what he feels.

"What did you guys end up doing all night?" I taunt, changing the subject slightly.

I have an idea of what they did...

"Adult things, Aqueela," he says condescendingly, infuriated.

"What's your body count at now?" I ponder aloud with an annoying grin.

"I'm not talking about this with someone who has the maturity level of a three-year-old," he barks out angrily, stunned that I'd even ask him that.

"Relax," I soothe him, noticing how flushed he's become, "I'm only fooling around...much like you were doing last night."

As his blood continues to boil, the usual vein in his forehead begins to make its appearance once again – it's how I know when he's on the brink of murdering me.

"I hope you used protection this time," I continue, "we don't need you having another kid that you don't know about."

"If you're going rattle my cage, Lawson, then you best make sure I'm padlocked in it first," he threatens me, a frosty blue glittering through his orbs of gray.

"Was it Nancy?" I prod, ignoring his warning. "Max didn't get a good look."

He regards me with aggravation. "Nancy's with someone now; I don't cheat."

"So, this was just a random woman that you picked up at a club?" I guess.

"All that you need to know is that it was a mistake," he replies fiercely, wanting me to let the topic go.

"I thought you were set on Leila," I state, interested in his life and all the things.

I know it can't be her because it's still too risky for her to leave the place she's at.

"Get off my back. I don't know what I feel for anyone anymore, okay?" he expresses his conflict, visibly conquered, beat, and exasperated.

"That's it. Tap into your inner feelings and speak your truth," I encourage.

"I'm confused about a lot of things," he admits, disgruntled. "I don't need you making it worse."

Feeling guilty, I decide to be a better human. "You're only twenty-four," I exclaim, "you're allowed to be confused. You don't have to have everything figured out. Give yourself grace. If you can't, I will for you."

At hearing my words, his ire wavers. "You look at the world very differently to me."

"Yeah, my world isn't only gray," I tease, meaning well. "We have color here. You should visit sometime."

I start coughing soon after, wincing when my headache magnifies because of it.

"Wait here," Grey orders, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on before leaving the house, leaving me alone to wallow in my misery.

I turn on the TV but I can't seem to find the right channel. It frustrates me. Needing him, I pick up my phone and scroll until I find his name.

'What time are you driving?' ~ Legend Lawson

When Jay doesn't respond back immediately to me like he usually does, I grow concerned. He's probably already driving and I'm probably missing it.

I phone the one person who will have all the answers. Jay spoke to him in detail about today. He'll know when Jay's driving and he'll be able to tell me where to find him on TV.

Unfortunately, I'm unable to get through to the moron:

'Go away, it's Landon. You've reached my voicemail because I'm currently ignoring you. Don't leave a message; I guarantee that I don't care enough to get back to you. Should you call this number again, you better be dying, and if not, you will be.'

I roll my eyes. Typical of him.

My stomach starts grumbling. Giving up on my quest for now, I decide to go and make myself something to eat. I'm sure Grey won't mind disinfecting his entire house again.

I settle on some soup and get so lost in the complex process that I barely realize that Grey's returned and is currently watching on in disgust.

"You should never be left unsupervised, ever," he tells me, coming up behind me to inspect whatever I made. He peers over my shoulder, making me aware of his presence. "What is it with you and green soup? How do you even make it so green? And why does it smell so repugnant?"

I glance down and see what he's seeing – bubbling, neon-green soup. I almost retch at the smell. What have I done...again?!

"I have no idea how this keeps happening. I get lost in the zone and this is always the result," I tell him sheepishly, my stomach grumbling. "My place is not in the kitchen. I'm too artistic." I'm big enough to admit that.

I turn around to see him placing a few boxes and bottles down on the counter. He starts blabbing away, telling me what to take and when to take it.

"These meds should help a little. If you're still this bad tomorrow, you're going to the doctor. I don't care if I have to take you in a cage; you're going," he tells me adamantly.

I love when someone takes care of me. He always does cordial things under the guise of insults and mean comments.

I smile, grateful. "Thanks, Grey. I appreciate you and will forever love and hate you at the same time."

He pours me a glass of water and gestures for me to take the first pill. "Drink," he orders. "Vitamin C boost."

"Only if you taste my soup," I bargain with him.

"There is no way, Lawson. It smells like hatred," he refuses, his mind made up. 

"Then you should enjoy it," I counter.

"You probably poisoned it."

He always calls a spade a spade.

I reach up and lightly pinch his cheek. "And why would I want to kill this sweet face off?"

Seriously though, why?

He slaps my hand away. "Don't touch me! I don't want to get sick. How will I look after you if I'm also man-down?"

I do the thing he hates most and 'aww' him. "Look at you being all adorable and all domestic and taking care of me. I love this side of you."

He flips me off and swears under his breath before shoving me away from the stove with so much force that I go flying. "Get out of my kitchen so that I can disinfect everything a second time."

"Probably a third time too, if I'm being honest," I reply with a half-shrug, finding my balance. "I don't follow instructions well, especially when said instructions are to stay out of the kitchen – that's the place where all the food is at."

"I'll throw out your radioactive waste and make you real soup, okay?" he reasons. "But only if you go and lie down on the couch. You need to rest."

"Fine. I'll go to my room and take a nap," I tell him, complying.

"No, you won't, you will stay here where I can keep an eye on you," he informs me, bossing me around. "I don't need you dying on me while I'm in the same vicinity as you. Jay would never let me hear the end of it."

I pout and cross my arms over my chest. "But—"

"I'll bring Slobber to you," he cuts me off.

I smile again, resisting the powerful urge to hug him. "Thank you." I'm about to leave the room when something springs to mind. "Are you going with to Indonesia?"

"Not if you are," he answers simply, busing himself with cooking.

I smack his bicep, the playful grin that he's trying very hard to conceal not going unnoticed. 

*~*~*~**~*~*~*

I lie with Slobber on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep, before feeling a hand touch my shoulder. Stirring awake, I open my eyes and find myself looking into the dark depths of gray. He's kneeling down in front of me with something in his hands.

"As much as I love you, I can't accept your proposal," I blatantly reject him. "I'm taken." I flash the ring on my finger, showing off. "But in another lifetime..."

"Please, in every lifetime, I'm out of your league," he gives it back to me, taking it like a sport. "I could be reincarnated as a donkey  and I'd still be out of your league."

"True that," I instantly agree when a delicious aroma fills the air around us. I sit up when I finally take note of the steaming-hot bowl of soup in his hands. "That smells amazing, almost as good as mine did," I joke.

"Don't say I never did anything for you," he retorts, handing the bowl over to me. "Be careful; it's hot. If you burn yourself, I will laugh."

I eagerly take it from him and begin blowing on it, wanting to taste it as soon as possible. "Chicken soup?" I question.

He nods and sits down on the table in front of me, blocking the TV. "If it sucks, you still have to eat it. I didn't make it for nothing."

Jeez. Bossy.

I watch him lean over toward us and pat Slob behind his ears in the softest of ways. It warms my heart.

He looks up and sees me shivering. He rolls his eyes before disappearing for a second. He returns with a fluffy blanket. He drapes it over me and then sits back down.

"You're a good person, Grey," I remark on impulse. I smile up at him with admiration. "I've always, always known that about you."

"Don't go soft on me, Lawson," he lectures, a faint smile tracing his lips.

Somehow, he's become one of my closest friends.

"Imagine if we never met," I wonder aloud, pulling the blanket around me, seeking warmth. "Imagine if I never met Jay or you or any of your racing crew. That would be so sad. Okay, I know that you'd be glad—"

"No, I wouldn't be," he interrupts me in a serious tone, trying to get a message across.

I raise both my eyebrows in surprise. "You wouldn't be happy?"

There's a pensive look in his eyes as if something is weighing heavily on him. Finally, he shakes his head. "I don't think anyone would be happier without you in their life, Aqueela," he murmurs quietly, catching me off guard.

This has got to be the nicest thing that he has ever said to me, for real. He's knocked me for six. I'm nonplussed.

"You're light," he breathes out in an even quieter voice.

I try to gauge his expression but it's difficult when he's looking down at the floor, purposely avoiding my gaze. Laiken's theory pops into my head but I quickly shake it off. Still, I feel a little something...something like a tiny, anxious butterfly flapping its wings within me.

Unsure how to break the sudden tension and move the conversation along, I attempt a joke. "Lars would disagree with that."

He lifts his head and bravely looks at me again, his gaze keeping me captive. "Your dad's the biggest idiot on the face of the earth. You shouldn't base your value on anything that comes from his stupid mouth."

The uncomfortable feeling shoots further up my spine, only getting worse.

Clueless on how to get back to a normal place with him, I pick up my spoon and try the soup. It's tastier than I thought. Usually, I don't like soup, but this is something else.

"Mmm! This is great, Ferrot!" I praise his skill. "You did awesome. I could eat a million and one bowls of this heaven," I proclaim in an upbeat manner.

His eyes glimmer in amusement while taking in my joy. "This I don't doubt."

"Where did you learn to cook?" I ask, downing more spoonfuls of the dream in a bowl.

He shrugs, fondly recalling something. "Nance loved watching the cooking channels. I guess I picked up on a thing or two while living with her."

"Do you miss her?" I sense where his head is at.

"Yeah," he admits, "we were close, and things didn't end well between us, but I'd still rather cramp your style than share a space with her again. She can be a little too uptight."

"And I can be a little too free-spirited, right?" I read his thoughts.

"A lot free-spirited," he corrects me. "The worst part is that you proudly wear it like a badge of honor."

I touch my chest, faking hurt. "I feel judged."

"This is my judging face, I am judging you, I am always judging you," he clarifies plainly. "But, I will say, that on extremely rare occasions, it's nice to be around that kind of energy. Don't let this go to your giant head but it can be uplifting when you aren't annoying the hell out of me."

Satisfied, I grin. "Now I feel loved, adored, treasured, and worshiped."

"No, that's not--"

"In fact, I feel completely in sync with you for the first time ever."

"Don't make me vomit, Aqueela."

"Hey, do you know when Jay's driving today?" I ask Grey after I've finished my soup, only remembering now.

His eyes widen before he curses under his breath. "I completely forgot. You distracted me with your revolting sickness." He sits down beside me and starts weaving through the channels, easily finding the Formula 1 coverage.

My phone lights up with a new message:

'You're lucky that I'm even getting back to you. Anyone else and I wouldn't waste time typing out this message. In less than five words, what do you want?' ~ Lan the freaken man!

'Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing🤪!' ~ Legend Lawson

'Still a fan of you but 🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽 for wasting my time.' ~ Lan the freaken man!

'Love you too😘😘😘' ~ Legend Lawson

"We've missed the first session but I'll go to the highlights and skip to Jay parts," Grey tells me, as disappointed as I am that we didn't watch it live.

Jay's handsome face fills the screen with a huge number one next to his face.

"Man of the hour, Jay Taylor, is the fastest of free practice one. Despite being late to the season and out of the sport for an entire year, he outperformed the car during his flying lap. Phenomenal performance by the former champion," the commentator's voice rings through as scenes of Jay's drive flash before us.

When coverage of inside of his car comes on, I feel myself getting nervous. My heart starts racing and I have to remind myself that it's not live. I have no idea how they're even able to see like that. They have to know the track extremely well. As incredible as it is watching him and the other drivers take corners at high speeds, it's also terrifying.

"It's great to see him back on the grid in some form. It's also hard to believe that he doesn't have an official seat this year," the second commentator replies. "It's a real shame. Since his rookie season, he's always been remarkable to watch."

"Well, rumor has it that he turned down Ferrari's offer due to family commitments but neither he nor the team have confirmed it," the first commentator responds.

My heart sinks straight into my stomach. If that's true, I feel super guilty again. If he turned down a seat because of me, then I'm an awful human.

Why did he not tell me? What does that say about me?

The constant theme in our relationship seems to be choosing between his dreams and me.

As if sensing my drop in mood, Grey skips to the driver interviews.

"A warm welcome to you, Jay. It's great to see you back on racing soil. I think I speak for all of us when I say that the F1 community has missed you," the woman interviewer greets him.

He smiles at her, seemingly elated to be there. "Thank you. I'm glad to be back."

He's looks alive again. That spark is back in his eyes. I only ever see it when he talks racing, sees racing, is racing -- anything racing.

"It's as if you never left. You put together a stupendous lap out there. Great day for you and the team, would you say?" she asks him.

He nods. "I'd say so. We got a lot of runs in. The race pace is strong. The performance is there. The tire degradation was good. I think there will be a strong chance of a pole if there are none of the reliability issues that we had last week. We'll have to see how FP 2 and 3 go but I'm positive. We'll analyze the data and keep pushing."

"And is there any chance of you grabbing a seat this year? There has been talk of it," she pushes her luck, wanting to give his fans their answers.

He shifts his stance and fixes his red, flat-brimmed cap -- a sign that he's not ready to discuss the topic. "No, I don't think so. Not any time in the near future."

"Alright, well best of luck to you," she concludes with a smile, catching the hint.

"Thank you," he replies before the screen goes black.

Pride blooms and blossoms in my chest despite my recurring conflict with racing. That's my Jay who just amazed everyone.

"I'm not surprised," Grey breaks the silence. "I knew Jay was something special from the first time I saw him race. Street racing is so different to F1, but he seems to adapt to anything as long as he's behind a wheel. Plus, he's had experience with karting and then later under Jed's guidance."

"Do you still street race?" I question, curious.

He shakes his head. "I've outgrown that. It's not worth the risk. Lan and Dean still race, sometimes, but even they aren't as serious about it anymore. It was just a phase for us. The only one from us that was ever talented enough to make something out of racing is already doing that."

Speaking of...

'Hey, 'Queels. I'm done already. I had to get in the car as soon as I arrived. I think you missed it😅but don't worry, it's not a big deal. Everything good there?' ~ My Person

He doesn't even mention his 'stupendous' performance...

"Jay?" Grey asks at seeing me staring down at my phone.

I nod without looking at him. "Yeah."

I quickly type out a reply before Jay starts to worry:

'Everything's fine. We watched the highlights. You did awesome! Super proud of you🙌🏼😎🫶🏽🏎' ~ Legend Lawson

'🙏🏼❤️' ~ My Person

I wince and frown when my headache spikes. I touch my temples and groan, my vision blurring for a second.

I feel Grey's steady hand on my shoulder. "You good?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and give him a thumbs-down. "No, I'm starting to feel yuck again."

"Did you take any of the meds that I specifically got just for you?" he asks with a resigned look, already aware of the answer.

I shake my head and speak like a baby, "I did forget."

He gives me a reproachful glance. "You don't listen. You never listen."

I shrug helplessly. "That's kind of my thing. It's too late for me to learn new tricks."

He sighs deeply. "Your conduct is very tiring," he grumbles, getting up from his seat.

I manage a smile, proud of myself. "I'm a force to be reckoned with."

"A force of stupidity," he mutters under his breath, heading to the kitchen.

At seeing Slobber whimper in his sleep, I pick him up and place him onto my lap. "What's wrong? Do you miss your dad, buddy?"

He looks up at me with big, brown eyes and paws my chest.

"I know. Me too," I tell him, glad I'm not the only one drowning in melancholy.

"Jay's not dead," Grey reminds me, stepping back into the room with a glass of water and pills. "He's hardly been away. How are you going to deal long-term if you're already moping after him like this?"

I paint a dopey grin on my face. "That's where you come in. You're my supporting cast. Your job is to support. As long as I have you, I'll survive this storyline."

He scowls, angrily placing the glass and pills down on the table. "Your story needs a reboot. I'm no one's supporting cast, no one's second best. I will not be at your beck and call forever, Lawson."

"You're right. Supporting cast is too generous; you're my stand-in cast," I correct my mistake, teasing him – he's obviously a main role.

"Well, in my story-line, you don't feature at all. You don't exist. I killed you off," he replies evenly.

I place a hand over my heart. "Hurtful."

His scowl softens when he recalls why I'm acting out. "I think you're developing separation anxiety."

I consider his words for a moment before flatly denying it. "No, I'm just ill, and my hero being away while I'm sick makes everything worse. That's all. Don't read anymore into this. I forbid you."

He rolls his eyes and gestures to the pills. "For the pain and a vitamin C boost."

"Thanks," I express, grateful. "How noble of you."

"I want to see you drink it," he says callously, not moving an inch.

"Ooh. Kinky," I joke, messing with him.

He stares are me with a straight face. "Aqueela."

Still slouching, I dramatically stretch for it and then pout in defeat. "Too far," I whine.

Annoyed, he grabs the glass off the table and forces it into my hand before shoving the pills into my other hand. "Drink. It. Drink it or I phone Jay and tell him that you're refusing to go to the doctor."

He's done playing games...

I huff. "Fine," I finally comply and swallow both pills. "Can't believe you're blackmailing me," I mumble just loud enough for him to hear.

"I have to because you're an extremely difficult woman," he informs me like it's a well-known fact.

"Name one time where I was difficult," I demand, gulping down the water.

"Right now," he points out without even having to think about it.

"Name two times," I command, folding my arms over my chest.

"Earlier, when I told you to take the pills and you didn't," he easily answers.

I glare at him. "Name three times."

"When you burnt my hand because you were being stubborn, when you got in front of my car because you were being stupid, when you pushed me into the pool for your own amusement, when you jumped on my back in the pool and tried to drown me, when you cheated in our race, when you—"

I only said three...

"Quiet, you!" I shush him, having heard enough. "Let's watch a movie." I tap the spot next to me. "Sit."

He relents and sits down on the other side of my couch, deliberately keeping a large space between us. "What is the point when you're just going to talk through the entire movie?"

"I won't do that again," I lie – I will probably do that again.

He sends me a knowing look but switches on a movie anyway.

"Comedy?" I arch a brow, surprised by his choice.

"You like them, don't you?" he replies with a shrug before handing me the remote. "Choose whatever you want, I don't care."

At heart, Grey's super sweet, and thoughtful, and selfless...how is he still single? How has he not been snatched up yet? Are women stupid?

"I like it," I declare and give him the remote back.

He smiles slightly, satisfied, that is until we're two minutes in and I start narrating everything in a mocking tone of voice. That half-smile of his instantly washes back over into his RBF.

*~**~*

Hey, guys :)

1. Do you feel sorry for Aqueela? 

2. Thoughts on Grey in this chapter?

3. Thoughts on Lan's voicemail?

4. Who'd be interested in the same universe/lifetime without Jay?

5. Where would everyone be if Aqueela never met Jay & his crew? 

6. Thoughts on Grey's comment on separation anxiety? 

~ CJ