Page 148

My cheeks flush and I nod, my hands roaming over his shoulders to his chest. My palms flatten and then I curl my fingers around the fabric. Watching me closely, he’s breathing heavier than normal, probably because he wants this. I fist his t-Shirt in my hands and bring him closer. He collapses his weight on me, carefully, smirking, shifting his hips forward.
I gasp at the contact his erection makes sliding easily over my clit. “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve felt you like this.”
“Twice wasn’t enough,” he grunts, his breathing picking up as he grinds into me again, his hands sliding between the mattress and my ass. “No amount of times will be enough with you.”
He moves quickly, yanking off my sweat pants and his t-Shirt I had on. He’s out of his clothes even faster. “Do you want me towear a condom?” he asks, breathing hard, sweat glistening at his temples.
“No,” I whisper. “I’m still on birth control pills.”
He nods, working my legs apart. I can feel the head of him there at my entrance. Swallowing, he lets out another quick breath before sliding inside me. “I love you,” he tells me, his mouth parting over my collarbone.
I kiss the side of his face, clinging to his body, unwilling to allow space between us. “I love you.”
Inside me, he thrusts deep, moving agonizingly slow, his lips tasting like chocolate chips find mine. I can feel his breath coming out in pants as he drives deeper, mercilessly, desperately. I can’t help but think he’s giving his pain, his confusion, an outlet. A meaning, even if he doesn’t realize it, and though I know it’s not healthy, I give him this. I let him bury his pain in us because he would do the same for me. He did do the same for me.
He stalls, mid-thrust, pulling back to look at me. “Am I hurting you?”
I shake my head. “It’s perfect.”
He finds a steady rhythm, filling me, over and over again. Sweat beads on his temples, his cheeks flushed, eyes fire.
I touch his warms face. “Are you okay?”
He nods, fighting off a smile. He fucks me like he can’t get enough. Like being inside me means more than anything else in the world.
And that’s how we spend most of the day. Making love. In a way it feels like we might be putting a Band-aide on trauma wounds, but then again, it doesn’t. It feels like we’re healing, in our own way. Preparing ourselves for what comes next.
Probably lots of therapy. And banana chocolate chip muffins. Preferably not the one smooshed against my back and Grayson’s bed. Despite the baked goods in places I don’t want them, I think about this moment. The one where nothing is said andwe’re existing in a sliver of time together, quietly. It’s the in between seconds that are the hardest.
Grayson’s hand finds mine on the bed, his fingers holding tight. “Thank you.”
I crane my neck to look over at him. “For what?”
He swallows, breathing in deep, his cheeks still flushed. “For staying, even when you shouldn’t have.”
I roll to face him. “That’s what you do for people you love, Grayson.”
“I know.” He twists his body to face me. I run my fingertips over his scar on his head. “But I didn’t make it easy on you. And I’m sorry for that.”
“No, you didn’t. But that’s part of being in love. It’s not always easy.”
The corners of his mouth lift into a smirk. He blinks, slowly. “So what happens next.”
“Therapy,” I tease.
He snorts, a chuckle rolling through him. “Probably, huh?”
“We have to make an effort. I think we need to see someone together, but also, you need to talk to someone who understands what you went through over there.”
His eyes close and he rolls onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling. “I never wanted to talk about what happened over there. I wanted to forget it the day I left, but it doesn’t work like that.”
I move closer to him and nestle my head in the space between his shoulder and chest. Resting my hand on his stomach, he presses his lips to my forehead. “What about… well, did you have trouble with us… doing it and what you dream about?” I don’t want to come out and say it, but I wonder about sex. Does he picture what happened to me?
His breathing changes, his body tensing. “You mean… you and him?”
I nod, fearing my words will come out shaky and provoke him further. Or I’ll say the wrong thing.
“That might never go away,” he says, his words strained, a hint of anger behind them, a bitterness that makes my stomach knot.