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“Dad called.” She gives me a knowing look. “I hear it’s a real shit show.”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” I flip off the light.
“Good thing he’s making your favorite tonight.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes. Everyone is coming.” She smiles.
Everyone. Everyone but him.
The house is already filled with chatter and laughter when we enter. The aroma of a home cooked meal fills the house as I follow Whitley into the foyer. Camille sits at the bar next to Jace, and Adam is digging around in the fridge. Bekka is at the kitchen table with Elle and Nayna, I’m sure getting an earful of advice they didn’t ask for. My grandmother had just returned from a two week long “retreat”. She’s a sex/relationship therapist so I haven’t even had the nerve to ask her how it went. I’m sure she will share entirely too much information and I’ll be scarred for life.
I scan my eyes to the other side of the room to see Easton is in deep conversation with my father.
The warmth from every smile and conversation washes over me, but I still feel cold. Something is missing. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel an arm snake around my waist. His cologne fills the air in the entry way, and I’m tugged backwards, then pressed up against the wall. Greyson’s golden eyes collide with mine, showing every ounce of misery I’ve been feeling the last four days. I don’t speak.
Just lift my hands. Hey.
His eyes remain on mine as he lifts his. Hey, baby.
His forehead drops, resting against mine.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers.
I move my hands again because I know if I speak, I’ll cry, and I was determined not to cry anymore.
I missed you t…...
Before I even finished his lips are on mine. His kiss is soft, yet possessive. Filled with promises that I cling to like it’s the actual air I need to breathe.
He slides his hands up my back, cupping my head with one hand as the kiss slowly comes to an end.
“I hate this, you know. I fucking hate it,” he mutters.
I know. Me too. I sign before I intertwine our fingers.
He raises our hands to his lips, marking a quick kiss on my knuckles as we make our way towards the rowdy group.
But just when I thought we’d have one regular night with friends and family, a knock sounds at the door.
Greyson whirls on his heels to answer while I stop at the entrance to the living room. My breath hitches when he opens the door and I see who stands behind it. Detective Caster and Detective Asher meet him with a curious stare.
“Greyson Roy. Just the man we were looking for.”
Chapter 49
Greyson
I find myself seated on the same steel chair from four days ago, except this time the tension in the air is suffocating. The way these two detectives eye me while flipping through a red folder makes me shift in my seat. I agreed to come. Agreed to answer any more questions they had, but I’ve been sitting here watching them in silence for a solid fifteen minutes. I’m starting to get frustrated.
“You admitted to going to Mr. McKnight’s residence. Is that correct?” Detective Caster flips another page.
“That’s correct.” I nod.
“And you stated he was alive when you left?”
“That’s correct.”
