Page 39 of Dare to Hold (Dare To Love #1)

I nod, taking another sip of my drink. “I got really good at pretending everything was fine. Like, really good. But…sometimes things weren’t.”

Gray doesn’t interrupt. He just waits, quiet and patient, like he knows if he gives me space, the truth will come.

I swirl the liquid in my mug, watching it chase itself in circles. “I used to think love meant giving everything. Even when it cost me.”

My throat tightens, but I keep going.

“I let guys use me. Not always in obvious ways, but…in ways that chipped at who I was. I’d say yes when I wanted to say no. I’d push down my feelings because theirs always seemed more important. I let their needs, their wants, their approval define everything.”

I finally glance up at him. “I thought if I could just be easy. Low-maintenance. Chill. Then maybe they’d stay.”

Gray’s jaw tightens—not in anger at me, but in the way someone clenches when they’re holding something back. Like it physically hurts him to hear this.

“I didn’t know I was allowed to say no,” I whisper. “Not if I wanted to be loved.”

He shifts forward, elbows on the table, eyes locked on mine. But this time, his voice is low. Grounded. Almost fierce.

“You were.” He doesn’t stop there. “You are.”

His jaw tightens, and I can see it—whatever he’s about to say is coming from deep inside him. Not rehearsed. Not softened .

“I don’t care who made you believe love had to hurt, or that your ‘yes’ was the only way to keep a man. They were wrong. And they didn’t deserve you.”

I forget to breathe.

His voice drops even lower, rough with conviction. “If a man isn’t strong enough to honor your no, he’s not strong enough to deserve your yes.”

I swallow hard, my eyes stinging.

He leans closer, gaze unwavering. “I would rather wait a lifetime than take something from you that isn’t freely given. Because love—real love—never demands. It protects. It covers. It reflects Christ.”

My heart stutters.

“And Ivy…I want to love you like that.”

A lump rises in my throat, unexpected and sharp.

Gray’s hand moves across the table, palm up. No pressure. Just a silent offer.

I slip my fingers into his, and his grip is warm and sure.

“I know better now,” I say, my voice quieter. “But sometimes I still feel like…if I don’t give enough, I’ll lose everything.”

Gray shakes his head, eyes fierce with something like promise. “Real love doesn’t ask you to shrink yourself, Ivy. It doesn’t make you smaller. It shows up. It honors. It waits.”

I squeeze his hand, and for the first time in a long time, I believe him.

The waitress returns with our food, setting the plates down with a polite smile. The clink of silverware and warmth of fresh breakfast gives the moment a needed breath.

Gray barely waits for her to leave before he digs in, cutting into his pancakes with the kind of enthusiasm that makes me laugh. I dig into mine too, letting the warmth of the syrup and strawberries settle me back into the moment.

He picks up his fork, glancing at me as he stabs a piece of egg. “Well,” he says lightly, “that got deep real fast.”

I let out a soft laugh, grateful for the small release of pressure. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t apologize.” His voice is gentle but firm. “I’m glad you told me.”

We eat in silence for a few moments, the kind of silence that doesn’t ask to be filled. And then Gray sets his fork down and leans back, studying me in that quiet, intentional way he always does when he’s about to say something that matters.

He drags his fingers along the rim of his mug, then looks up, eyes steady on mine. “Can I ask you something?”

I nod, suddenly aware of the way my heart starts to race.

Gray leans in, resting his elbows on the table, eyes never leaving mine. “Where do you see this going?”

My mind blanks.

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Not because I don’t want to—but because I do. So badly. And that terrifies me.

Where do I see this going?

With him? I see everything. A life. A future. A love that doesn’t vanish when things get hard.

But I don’t say that.

“Umm…” I fumble, cheeks flushing. “I...I don’t know.”

His lips tug at the corners like he wants to smile but holds it back. He nods gently, like he’s giving me space instead of pressure.

“I’ll go first then,” he says, voice dropping to that soft, gravelly tone that always makes me melt. “I see us growing closer…a lot closer. ”

My breath hitches.

“I love you, Ivy,” he says. “Fast. Hard. In a way that doesn’t make sense but feels more right than anything I’ve ever known.”

“I want more than this,” he continues, eyes locked on mine.

“Not just the good dates and late-night phone calls. I want the lifetime. I want to be the one who brings you coffee on a slow Monday morning. The one who fights with you over stupid stuff and then laughs about it five minutes later. I want all of it. With you.”

My throat tightens.

Then he adds, softer, a little breathless, “You know, I have to admit…it’s taking everything in me not to get on one knee right now.”

My stomach drops.

His eyes widen slightly, like the words slipped past his guard.

“Oh boy,” he mutters, running a hand over the back of his neck.

“I didn’t mean…that’s not…” He exhales, shaking his head.

“What I meant is…I know we’re not there yet.

I do. But, Ivy…” His gaze finds mine again, steady this time.

“You’re my person. I don’t need more time to figure it out. I already know.”

My heart is racing as I try to process his words.

“But,” he adds with a crooked grin, “if that freaks you out, you can totally pretend I didn’t say any of that. Blame it on the coffee and sleep deprivation.”

I laugh, but it’s weak, shaky. My pulse is thunder in my ears.

“It doesn’t freak me out,” I say, though my voice is thin.

He tilts his head, studying me. “Are you sure?”

I nod too fast. “Yeah. I just...” I glance away, eyes catching on the napkin I’ve been shredding in my lap. “I think I just need to catch up. ”

Gray is quiet for a moment. I feel the shift coming before he speaks again.

His gaze sharpens, earnest and unblinking. “So, about what you asked me earlier…are you ready for that? To actually make that decision? To be saved?” His words tumble out in a rush, like he’s been holding them back for weeks and can’t anymore.

My chest tightens.

He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, voice low but urgent. “Because Ivy, it’s everything. It’s the whole point. You don’t have to wait until you’ve caught up or figured it all out. You can say yes to Jesus right now, tonight, and nothing will ever be the same again.”

The intensity in his eyes makes it hard to breathe. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

“And…” He hesitates for half a beat, then presses on. “Have you thought about getting baptized?”

The questions land like stones being thrown at my chest.

I don’t even think. “No.”

His eyebrows lift, surprised. “No?”

“I’m not ready,” I say quickly. “I just...I don’t know. It’s a big deal.”

He leans back slightly, his brows pulling together. “But you’ve been coming to church. Reading your Bible. Hanging out with me. You believe in Jesus, right?”

“I do,” I whisper. “I think I do.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

His voice is gentle—but it still feels like pressure. Like I’m failing some invisible test.

“I don’t know,” I say, but that’s not true. I do know. I just don’t want to admit it. Not yet .

I feel the weight of his gaze, and suddenly I can’t breathe.

“You don’t have to be perfect to be baptized,” he adds. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

I look down at our joined hands, his thumb still brushing over mine. I know he means well. I know this is Gray—steadfast, sincere, full of conviction.

But suddenly, it all feels like too much.

I pull my hand back slowly, folding it into my lap. “I just need more time.”

The silence that falls between us isn’t cold—but it isn’t comfortable either.

Gray nods, eyes flicking to his coffee. “Okay. I get it.”

But I wonder if he really does.

Because there’s a flicker of something in his expression. Not disappointment exactly. More like...fear. Like maybe I’m slipping away.

He’s been here before—I can feel it.

“I’m not trying to push,” he says quietly. “I’ve just...I’ve done that before. Expected too much. And it didn’t end well.”

My chest aches. “I know.” Even though it’s partly a lie.

He meets my eyes again, and something softens there. “I just want you to know you’re safe here. With me. No matter how long it takes.”

I nod, blinking fast. “Thank you.”

The silence between us this time is gentler. Like maybe we’re both trying to find the edges of each other’s wounds—and learning not to press too hard.