Page 47 of All I Have Left

A whole-body shiver works through me.

But he doesn’t relent. He keeps going, his words barely above a whisper but so deliciously rough, they scrape over my skin, leaving traces of the bad boy deep inside him.

“I want to make love you to, over and over again. I want to make you my wife. I want you to have my babies, and spend the rest of my life loving only you.”

I stare into his eyes, shaking my head, barely able to breathe. Every touch, every whisper has me panting with a need built on the foundation of wondering what it will feel like to be with him again. “How do you exist in this world?”

“I’m no angel, honey.” He laughs, but it comes out a snort. “Far from it. My thoughts keep me destined for hell.”

I frown at him, wondering what he means by that, though I’m worked up at the same time because though everything he said is sweet, okay, dirty in some ways, but the look in his eyes, that carnal desire bleeding from him is exactly what he’s referring to. There’s so much more he wants but won’t say.

We’re interrupted by Josh’s dad making his way over to us.

Courtney finds me at the same time.

“What do you want?” I ask, downing the beer in my hand. If you haven’t noticed, I can’t stand her. In the distance, Grayson watches us curiously, a smirk on his lips because he knows my feelings.

“Girl.” She giggles and clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Don’t be like that. So, what’s with you and Grayson?”

I want to say something like we’re madly in love and I’m having his baby. But my answer is less impressive. “We’re fucking,” I lie. “What’s it to you?”

Biting her lip, she bats her lashes at me. “I thought you were with Shane.”

“I haven’t been with Shane since February. He just can’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh, I know how that is.” Her back arches as she sticks out her breasts. She had a boob job recently and thinks everybody needs to see them. Ethan told me there’s a picture of them in the men’s bathroom at The Point, but I don’t know for sure. “He’s relentless.”

For the first time, I wonder what her relationship is with him. “What’s with you and Shane?”

Her cheeks flush and she swallows the drink in her mouth she’d taken, those same lashes fluttering. “We hook up occasionally. ”

I stare at her face, her freckles. Every perfect detail and I wonder if he’s ever hit her. “Did he hit you?”

“No,” she gasps. “Never. He wouldn’t do that.”

It’s like I’m punched right in the heart at her words. I snort, raising my beer to my lips before I realize it’s empty. “Yeah, he would. He’s a piece of shit like that. You just didn’t get to know him well enough.”

And then I walk away from her. He hadn’t been abusive to her, so why me? Was I special? Or just a magnet for this kind of shit?

The night drags on as everyone questions Grayson about his time in the military. He’s quiet and politely excuses himself when the questions drift to his time in Iraq. It makes me wonder what happened over there. What exactly is he trying to hide?

The questions seem unyielding for Grayson and I can see the frustration building inside him, his eyes constantly searching around the house for an escape.

Not only that, he’s on his fifth beer in the two hours we’ve been inside.

The turning point comes when Mike corners him.

He’s Wyatt’s business partner and so proud of Grayson for joining the military.

Mike is a Vietnam vet and thinks every American male should serve for their country.

I can see immediately the talk makes Grayson uncomfortable.

Just as I’m about to make something up to get Grayson away from the crowd, Frankie squeals from the deck and in front of her, my brother’s down on one knee, holding a ring.

My eyes go wide. I didn’t think Ethan had the guts to do it.

He’s been carrying around the ring for six months, and then I smile.

If there is ever a story book love, it’s these two.

Everything for them is so simple and easy.

There’s no drama, no past regrets or baggage. I envy that in many ways.

“YES, YES, YES!” Frankie screams, launching herself into Ethan’s arms.

But it’s Grayson’s expression that has me panicking. He looks terrified. His face pale, swallowing obsessively and jittery. “Are you okay?” I ask when he approaches me. His breathing is all over the place.

He doesn’t say anything but nods down the hall to the bedrooms. I follow.

Inside the bedroom, he relaxes, but not enough.

Setting the bags down on the dark mahogany wood floor, he glances around the room. Two years ago, Josh’s parents renovated the lake house and updated it from the old eighties style it had been when they bought it to a more lodge vibe.

Running his hand through his hair, Grayson sighs. “The remodel looks nice,” he notes, his voice sharp and agitated. It doesn’t match his words.

“You seem not yourself all of a sudden.” I step toward him, tentatively, unsure how he’s going to react. “Are you okay?”

Grayson lets out a nervous chuckle as he sits on the edge of the bed. Without words, he breathes out slowly and runs his hand over his face. “I fucking hate crowds. They suffocate me.”

My heart bleeds for the reasons he won’t give. “We can stay in here the rest of the night if you want,” I say, trying to break the ice a little. When I touch my hand to his shoulder, he visibly relaxes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper as he looks over his shoulder at the king-size bed.

As if I’m the distraction he’s looking for, he places his hands on my hips and positions me in front of him between his legs.

My knees brush against his thighs, his hands lowering to my ass.

“We don’t have much time. Before we know it, Frankie will be knocking on that door, or someone else.

And I plan on taking a lot longer with you than we have right now.

If I start now, I don’t think I’m going to want to stop. ”

I can’t complain about him wanting to take his time. We have years to make up for and I don’t want to rush our reunion any more than he does .

Knocking his baseball hat off, I thread my hands in his hair and tug. “You’re not okay, are you?”

“No, probably not.” His jaw flexes. “All I think about is sex.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He blinks. “I know.”

“So tell me the truth. I saw the medication, your reactions to anyone touching you unannounced, the crowds, the drinking. It’s more than you want to say, isn’t it?”

He blows out a nervous breath, his eyes glassy in the darkness. Without words, he shrugs a shoulder.

I touch my hand to his cheek. “I can respect that you’re not ready, because it took a long time for me to talk as well, but when you’re ready, I’m here for you.”

Squinting, he drops his head forward, his forehead resting against my stomach. I know he’s not going to say anything to me. He’s going to hold this in until he explodes.