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I hugged him tighter, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I know. I don’t want you to leave, either.” I pushed my face into his chest, breathing him in. “I don’t want you to go.”

We stood there, for a long time, holding onto each other tighter than we ever had. Maybe if we refused to let go, the Universe would obey, would freeze time and hold us in that moment forever.

I would’ve given anything to have that one prayer answered.

Sixty-eight After

THE WORLD SLIPSinto my consciousness piece by piece. Breath by breath. One sliver at a time.

The soft, clean smell of Greyson’s comforter.

The daylight streaming through his tall windows, beams of light streaking across his wooden floors.

Warm, muscled arms wrapped around my naked torso.

His heartbeat calmly thudding against my back.

The soothing sound of his steady breaths blowing across my neck.

I twist around in his hold and press a kiss to his bare chest, and another to the base of his throat.

He stirs and pulls me closer, still asleep.

I take in a deep breath. Soak in the silence.

I let it slither in between one breath and the next. Let it snake around my bones, and coat my thoughts, and hug my skin.

It’s blissfully quiet.

A kind of peace I’m not sure I’ve felt before.

It settles over me fully.

And it’s that feeling of absolute peace that has me holding onto Greyson tighter, burrowing myself deeper into his chest and arms, breathing him in.

Because when you’ve grown accustomed to losing the things you love most, you can’t help the niggling feeling that everything is temporary, that everything can be ripped right out from under you without warning. And when you’ve lived half your life this way, it’s hard to remember that giving away pieces of your heart can be an investment, too.

The thing is, Greyson seems to take and take and take these pieces without permission, without even knowing he does it.

He always has.

And I’m left scrambling. Holding tight to the pieces I don’t want to let go of. I gave him so many pieces of my heart last night, that it feels like I ripped the entire thing from my chest and handed it right over to him.

But when his arms tighten around me, and his lips find my skin, his breathygood morningsending chills down my spine, I willingly and easily, finally, let these things go.

He can have my heart. The whole thing.

He’s always owned it anyway.

Sixty-nine After

“THREE S’s, ANDJess, baby, you know you’re going first!” Sita exclaims.

I laugh, shaking my head. “Nope. No way. I’m definitely saving the best for last tonight.”

A groan, a whine, and a laugh trail from the lips of my three best girlfriends.

“Touché, bitch. Touché,” she throws back, amused, swallowing down a shot of tequila before diving into her Three S’s with a mischievous smirk. “Something new—you definitely slept with Greyson last night, I can see it in your eyes,” she points at me, talking in Sita-hyper-speed. Which for Sita, is really saying something. I hold back my smile. “Something positive…” she continues, “I’m positive it went well, because, girl, I’ve never seen you look so ‘cat caught the canary’ in my life. Andsomething to expel—I feel like I’m going to die of anticipation if you withhold this information any longer!”