Page 21 of Dare to Hold (Dare To Love #1)

Gray

I hear the knock before Goliath does, but the second I stand, the big lug is already trotting to the door like he owns the place. I open it, and there she is—hair loose around her shoulders, casual shorts, soft t-shirt. Beautiful in a way that knocks me back every single time.

“Hey you,” I say, leaning on the doorframe even though my heart just tripped over itself.

Her eyes immediately drop to the large cat rubbing himself against her ankles. “And this must be the man in charge.” she says, crouching to scratch behind his ears.

“That’s Goliath,” I say, grinning. “Big personality, bigger ego. Don’t let him fool you—he’ll trade loyalty for a handful of treats.”

She laughs, the sound filling up the doorway. “He’s perfect.”

“Don’t tell him that. He’s already full of himself.”

I’d cleaned this place top to bottom. Floors mopped, counters wiped, even dusted the bookshelf—which I hadn’t touched since I moved in. Not because I thought she’d notice, but because I knew she would .

Sure enough, the second Ivy steps inside, her eyes drift around the apartment like she’s cataloguing it all.

She doesn’t say anything, but the way her hand trails across the spines of my books makes my chest tighten.

She pauses at the window, looking out at the Dallas skyline glowing against the dusk.

“Not bad,” she says, turning back to me with a smile that could knock the air right out of my lungs. “So what movie are we watching?”

“A cheesy rom-com, of course. My guilty pleasure.” I wink, reminding her of the confession I’d made on one of our dates.

Her laugh softens the air between us, warm and teasing.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, heading toward the kitchen before she can answer.

“Sure, what do you have?”

I open the fridge, and my stomach sinks. Right—spending three hours scrubbing grout apparently made me forget something important.

I scratch the back of my neck and turn back to her. “Don’t hate me…but all I have is tap water and I don’t have snacks. Half a bag of stale chips, maybe?”

“Crap, I forgot the popcorn.” She gasps dramatically, shooting up from the couch. “You can’t watch a movie without snacks!”

Before I can reply, her hand finds my arm, tugging me toward the door with a playful grin. “Come on. Convenience store. Down the street. I’m not letting you ruin rom-com night.”

And just like that, she’s pulling me out the door, laughter bubbling on her lips, and all I can think is—yeah, I’d clean the whole place again if it meant this.

I hook both hands through the thin plastic handles, two bags full of popcorn, chocolate, gummy worms, gummy bears, and chips. Ivy insists it’s “bare minimum movie survival gear,” her words, not mine.

We stop at the doors, rain pounding so hard it looks like the street’s dissolving.

“I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon,” I say, glancing from the radar on my phone to the downpour just outside the convenience store doors.

Ivy peers at my phone, a green blob glows across Dallas. She exhales. “Green’s fine. Red’s the scary one.”

Her voice is light, but I catch the flicker of relief in her eyes.

I tilt my head, watching her.

“It’s now or never,” Ivy says, and there’s something daring in her voice that makes me smile.

I reach for her hand. She doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers slide between mine like they’ve always belonged there.

“One, two…”

The second I say three, we burst out the door of the convince store and into the storm, running full speed down the sidewalk, hand in hand.

The rain is ice cold, soaking through my shirt in seconds.

It stings against my skin, drips into my collar, and weighs down my jeans.

Water sloshes in my shoes as puddles splash beneath us.

But none of it matters.

I glance at Ivy and almost lose my footing. Her hair is plastered to her face, her eyes squinting through the rain, but her smile makes everything else disappear. She kicks at a puddle, laughing as she runs, and it hits me so hard I forget to breathe.

I’m completely gone for this girl.

My apartment is just ahead when I spot headlights rounding the corner too fast.

“Ivy, wait!”

I yank her arm, and she stumbles into my chest as a car barrels past, missing her by inches. The horn blares. Water sprays up from the tires. My arms lock around her without thinking, holding her tight.

She tilts her face up, breath caught, eyes wide like she’s standing at the edge of something she’s only dreamed of. Her chest rises and falls against mine, quick and unsteady, each inhale pulling me closer without a word.

Rain pours down around us in sheets, but I barely feel it. I’m too lost in her. The droplets running down her cheeks, the way her lashes cling together, the soft tremble of her bottom lip—I could memorize every detail and still crave more.

My hand lifts before I can stop it, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. My fingers linger at her cheek, stroking once, slow and careful.

And then I kiss her.

No second thoughts. No time to think. Just the undeniable pull that’s been building for weeks, demanding to break free.

I’d spent last night wide awake, picturing this moment—imagining it like a perfect scene in a movie. I thought I’d know how it would go, how she’d taste, how she’d melt into me.

But this?

This is better .

It’s messy and breathless, wild in a way no script could ever capture. Rain clings to her lips, cool at first—but then her mouth parts under mine, warm and soft, sending fire straight through me. Her hand fists in my soaked shirt, tugging me closer, like she’s been waiting for this just as long.

And in that instant, we’re the only two people in the world. No thunder, no headlights from the street, no storm—just us, tangled together in a kiss that feels like both a beginning and a promise.

Heat and adrenaline. Longing and relief. Her taste, sweet and real.

When I finally pull back, I’m gasping, forehead pressed to hers, water dripping between us. She’s just as breathless, lips parted, eyes shining like she can’t believe this either.

And all I can think is: I’ll spend the rest of my life chasing this feeling if she’ll let me.

The storm begins to lighten, the rain softening into mist. She looks up at me, blinking, her eyes impossibly blue.

And that smile, the one that tugs at the corner of her mouth, it eases every doubt I didn’t know I had.

Then, without warning, a car flies by, hitting a puddle just right.

A tidal wave of freezing water drenches us both.

“Oh my Godsh-shhh!” Ivy yells, half laughing, half squealing.

“Godsh-shhh?” I ask, grinning.

“I was going to say oh my God, but then I remembered what I read on the Bible app the other day…about how, once you’re a Christian, you kind of just want to stop doing things that don’t please Him. Like saying His name in vain. It just slipped out, but then I caught it, and…”

She’s rambling. And it’s adorable .

I can’t stop smiling. I stare down at her, proud, amused, and something else I can’t quite name.

Man. This girl. Lord, thank You for putting her in my life.

I brush another strand of hair from her cheek, my thumb grazing the edge of her jaw.

“Ivy,” I say quietly, “you almost just got hit by a car.”

“Gray,” she breathes, “you finally kissed me.”

We both start laughing, standing in the middle of the street, soaked, shivering, and somehow completely warm.

We get back to my apartment, soaked to the bone, rain still dripping from our hair and clothes.

But honestly? That’s the least of my problems.

I kissed Ivy. Finally.

I close the door behind us, the sound echoing in the quiet room. We just stand there, staring at each other, water pooling on the floor beneath us.

“I, um…” Ivy starts, glancing down at her soaking wet clothes.

“You can shower and borrow some of my clothes if you’d like,” I say before I can think better of it.

Her eyebrows lift. “Oh, um…”

Right. That might’ve sounded, not great. Like now that I’ve kissed her, I’m suggesting she undress in my apartment. That’s not what I meant.

“I can take you home instead,” I add quickly, trying to reassure her. “If you’d be more comfortable.”

But she just smiles, small and sincere. “I was kind of looking forward to our movie night. I mean, we did survive a natural disaster for those snacks.” She gestures toward the bag still clutched in my hand. “You don’t mind if I borrow something dry?”

“No, Ivy. I don’t mind.”

She follows me into my room, and I dig out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from my drawer. Nothing fancy. Nothing remotely girly.

I motion toward the bathroom. “Shower’s full of men’s products, but use whatever you need. I’ll grab you a towel.”

I set everything on the counter and start to step out, but her voice stops me.

“What about you?”

I freeze.

Does she mean? No. She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

“Ivy,” I say slowly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her face turns beet red. “Oh my Godsh-shhh! Dang it! No, that’s not what I meant!” She hides her face in her hands. “I just meant you’re soaked too, and maybe you’d want to shower first. Not…not with me. Definitely not with me.”

She’s rambling again, and somehow it makes her even more endearing.

I run a hand through my wet hair, suddenly way too aware of how small this bathroom is.

“Ladies first,” I say, stepping toward the door. “I’ll be out here. Just…holler if you need anything.”

I shut the door before I can say anything dumber.

Out in the kitchen, I unpack the snacks while Goliath stares at me from the back of sofa. Candy, chips, cookies, soda. Everything we’d risked our lives, and dry clothes, for.

The water runs on the other side of the door, a low hum through the quiet apartment .

I shiver. Both from the cold and from the thought of Ivy in my shower.

The old me, before faith really meant something, probably wouldn’t have walked away back there. Especially not after a kiss like that.

But now?

Now I know better.

I take a deep breath and say a silent prayer.