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“Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Johnson?”
“No.” She blinks, feigning innocence. “But are you seduced, Mr. Bennett?”
Such a temptress she is.
“You’ve had me under your spell for a long time now,” I confess, my voice huskier than I intended. “What are you going to do about it?”
Riley taps her index finger against her chin, smirking. “I have a few ideas,” she purrs.
I let out a groan. She’s killing me and it’s going to be a sweet fucking death. “Go and pack your bag.” I growl low.
She lets out a breathy giggle before spinning on her heels. She takes two steps forward and then comes to a halt. I hear her shocked gasp and her body stiffens.
Confused, I turn my head to where she’s looking, searching for what has upset her. When I finally notice the reason behind her shock, my heart thumps against my ribs.
Time slows down.
And dread fills my veins. Fuck.
That’s the last person I want to see right now, and I don’t want him anywhere near Riley. How long has he been sitting there, on the stairs of Riley’s porch, waiting?
He slowly rises to his feet, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and he takes a step toward my fucking girl.
Her feet are still glued to the ground, her body tense and unmoving. I don’t know if she’s even breathing. He takes another step, and then two more, slowly closing the distance between him and Riley.
Once he’s within reach, I notice a twitch in her fingers. A quiet tremor runs through her body and my lungs squeeze painfully.
“Hello, Riley,” he says, her name soft on his lips.
Her whole body shudders at the sound of his voice and it’s like watching a statue coming to life. “Grayson,” she breathes his name.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Riley — 22 years old
The sound of my name on his lips decimates me.
It’s been two years, eleven months and eighteen days since I’ve last heard his voice.
Grayson is still the same, but different somehow.
His hair is still cut short and he’s got at least a few weeks of rough stubble across his jaw. He’s got a mole, right under his right eye. It wasn’t there before. And he’s bulkier now, if that’s even possible.
Grayson looks…older. More mature.
And tired.
There’s misery in his dark eyes. A familiar grief that resonates through me.
I open my mouth to speak, but then close it again. I don’t know what to say. Grayson is right there, standing in front of me, and I’ve waited for this very day for so long. I have so many questions, but now that he’s here…
I don’t know where to start.
I can’t…breathe.
Grayson looks past my shoulders and I know what he’s seeing. Colton and me, together. Him driving me home on his motorbike. We were the perfect image of cozy and intimate. Did Grayson see us flirting earlier? Did he hear?
His gaze slides back to mine, roving over my face. Grayson studies me closely, and my heart dips into the pit of my stomach. He swallows before speaking again. “Is it alright if we have a talk?” he asks cautiously.
