Page 56

I stare at my phone, relief washing through me.
Hmmm… this could be a good thing. Maybe Shane finally got the point.
I know better than that though.
I glance up when I realize Grayson’s bedroom door is opening. He comes back in, no shirt and in a pair of shorts. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reaches for the shirt on the floor and slides it over his shoulders.
“So…” I pause, and he looks over his shoulder, waiting. I drag my eyes down his body, suggestively. “Less worked up?”
“Stop doing that,” he replies, flopping back onto my legs.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
He swallows, his beautiful eyes finding mine. “Like you would have acted on it.”
I rest my hand on his chest. “I wasn’t the one who got up and walked away,” I state simply, adding a shrug. Part of me registers that given our last few days, maybe I shouldn’t be joking around with him like this. But damn it, after everything, don’t I deserve a little light heartedness?
His smoldering eyes lock on mine. “You’re telling me that if I would have acted on it, you would have let me?” he asks, his pitch a little more southern than I’ve heard recently. Reaching his hand up to my neck, he touches my collarbone, his eyes following the motion, his fingers dancing along my bare skin, causing me to shiver.
He certainly hasn’t lost his touch with me. In fact, it sends a familiar rush of hormones through me that make me want to dry-hump him.
“I guess you’ll never know. You left.” I peel myself off the bed, pulling on a pair of his shorts.
“Fuck.” Grayson groans and curls into a ball on the bed. “I’ll never live it down.”
Once I’m off the bed, I realize how hungry I am. “I’m starving.”
Grayson lifts his head, his eyes heavy on my legs. “Yeah, me too.”
I snort and reach for his T-shirt to cover my tank top. “You’re such a boy.”
“Why are you wearing all my clothes? Frankie brought you over a bunch.” He sits up and gestures to the bag on the floor next to his piano.
I sniff the sleeve of his hoodie. “These smell better.”
His brow quirks but he doesn’t say anything.
“Seriously. I’m really hungry.” Reaching for the door handle, I open it, wondering if he’s going to follow me.
He does, and I smile that lately, wherever I go, he’s close by, a reminder of the way it used to be between us. A familiarity I’ve missed so much.
In the hall, I stop him. He backs up against the wall, his hands on my hips. “Are you okay?”
I bite my lip nervously and then regret it because it’s still sore. “Do you think they’re going to fuss over everything that happened?”
His expression softens. “No, they won’t. They’re concerned, but they won’t ask you about it.”
We make our way to the breakfast nook at his parents’ house that overlooks the backyard. Ever since I can remember, the Gomez residence has been the local hangout for us. That much hasn’t changed over the years.
Ethan is next to Frankie as we walk toward the table, Grayson close behind me. With a smile in my direction, Ethan licks syrup off Frankie’s elbow. She’s dressed in light pink scrubs, and judging by her tired eyes, I’d guess she’s just gotten off her shift at the hospital.
I appreciate that there’s no extreme reaction from anyone. No rushing toward me and asking constantly how I’m feeling. It’s… nice. Normal. And exactly what I want.
“Morning, sunshine,” Josh says, stuffing his mouth with pancakes.