Beyond What is Given(78)

She nodded. “I’ll miss you.”

I leaned over and kissed the top of her head, inhaling her lavender shampoo. “I’ve missed you for five years, Grace. God, I’m glad you’re back.”

She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and I squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you soon, Gray.”

“Okay. See you.” I picked up my backpack on the way out and slung it over my shoulder.

“So?” Parker nudged me in the ribs.

“So what, Parker?” I hit the button for the elevator.

“G-squared, back in force! It’s perfect! You get a fairytale ending! I want to bask in that happiness for a bit.”

I got on the elevator as the door opened and turned back to Parker looking too damn chipper in that candy-striper uniform. “I have to get home, Parker. To Sam. You may have forgotten that I have a life in Alabama, but I haven’t.”

Her mouth dropped, and she thrust her hand into the closing elevator doors to keep them open. “You can’t be serious. Grace is a miracle, Gray. Your miracle. Fuck your other life and come home. We need you. Grace needs you.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, as always. You go. Run away. Leave us here. Leave Grace here. It’s what you’re good at, right?”

“At least you’re acting more like yourself.”

“Well, you’ve been handed the f*cking glass slipper and you’re still acting like an *.” She moved her hands, and the doors shut.



The house was pitch-black when I unlocked the front door. Then again, at two a.m. I didn’t expect any different.

I climbed the stairs, my heart pounding, my hands aching to fill themselves with Sam, to soak up the peace only she brought to me. She was going to be pissed. I hadn’t even called, but what was I supposed to say to her? Hey, sorry, I’m trying to walk this fine line of pretending you don’t exist and flat-out lying to my best friend.

I crept into our room, quietly undressing so I didn’t disturb her. I slid into bed, only to find it empty. What the f*ck? She hadn’t moved in. Of course she didn’t. You left her standing in the middle of the hallway while you ran home to your non-comatose girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Whatever.

In only my boxer-briefs, I crept across the hall, opened her door, and dodged every landmine of clothes on the floor as I made my way to her bed. The moonlight shone in through the window, illuminating her curves as they dipped along the mattress. Her lips were slightly parted as she slept, one hand grazing her cheek. My breath caught at how f*cking beautiful she was, what a gift I’d been given when she fell into my arms.

I needed her. Now. Needed to be inside her, connected to her so deep that she’d never get me out.

I pulled back her covers and then carefully brought her into my arms. “Mmmm,” she hummed, her lips at my throat. “Grayson?”

“I’m here.” I flipped off the hallway light and kicked our door shut gently as I brought her into what was now our bed. Where she’d stay, damn it.

Hovered over her, I kissed the lines of her collarbone until I pulled down the thin strap of her tank top. Her eyes blinked open, sleep-hazed. “Grayson, what are you doing?”

“I know you’re pissed, and you should be. And I’ll explain, I swear. But right now… God, I need you.” My voice broke.

Her hands cupped my face, gently pulling me from her chest so she could look into my eyes.

“Sam?”

A gamut of emotion ran across her face while I waited for her verdict. Anger and defiance softened in those green eyes as her hands ran down my cheeks. “Are you okay?” she asked with more concern than I had any right to.

“I just need you, Sam. Connect me. Ground me. Love me.” Pull me back from the edge of something that could destroy us both.

Our eyes spoke more than words could ever manage. Hers widened in almost panic as her fingers slipped to my hair. “You still want me,” she said as if she didn’t think it was a remote possibility.

“I will always want you.”

Her eyes watered, but she nodded and kissed me gently, slowly. “I love you,” she whispered against my mouth, and I was lost. I made love to her slowly, carefully, cherishing each line of her body and savoring each gasp, each moan. Once she was writhing, I entered her slowly, pushing deep until I was surrounded, enveloped by heat. Home. Our tongues and breaths mingled as we rocked together, and I caught her every exhale when she came apart in my arms and gasped my name. I followed soon after.

I pulled her into my side and stroked the soft-as-petals skin of her back as she drifted off to sleep, warm and content. I couldn’t live without this—without her.

What the f*ck was I going to do?

Grace needed me.

I needed Sam.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Sam


Sunlight streamed in the window, and I buried my face deeper into the pillow, denying the existence of morning. Grayson’s scent filled my head, and I forced my eyes open. I was in his room, in his empty bed. Well, our bed.

Or was it our bed? Was there an “ours”? An “us”?

I’d half thought it was a dream when he came for me last night after three and a half days of silence, but the delicious soreness between my thighs said either he was home, or I’d had some wicked real dreams.