We sat in silence for a moment while the kettle heated. Then, she turned to me and said, “You’re different around him.”
“Greyson?”
She nodded. “It’s like…you remember who you are when you’re with him.”
I wrapped my fingers around the warm mug she handed me and stared into the steam. “It’s terrifying.”
“What is?”
“Feeling this much. Again.”
Madison gave me a small smile. “Maybe it’s not about feeling again. Maybe it’s about feeling for the right person this time.”
That landed hard in my chest.
She was right. And that scared me more than anything.
Later that morning, after Madison returned to bed, I opened my laptop again. Not to write the novel, but to open a draft email. The one I hadn’t dared to send.
It was to a small publishing house that focused on debut women writers. I’d researched them a dozen times. My new manuscript was ready, or at least, ready enough.
I attached the first three chapters. My hand trembled as I hovered over the send button.
“Don’t be scared,” I whispered.
And then I hit send. The rush that followed wasn’t relief. It was terror. But also something else.
Hope.
I closed my laptop and climbed into bed just as the sun began to rise over my hometown, the one I never thought I’d return to, and now couldn’t imagine walking away from again.
Not just because of Greyson. But because of me. Because I was finally letting myself be whole again.
Chapter 14
Greyson
I stayed behind after Blair left the bar, the front door closing a few seconds after she walks out the door. She looked over her shoulder one last time, just for a heartbeat, and then she was gone.
It was late, the kind of late where the town felt like it was holding its breath. The bar was empty except for me and Maddox, who was perched on a stool, swirling the last inch of his beer. The overhead lights were dimmed, casting everything in warm glow.
I wiped down the counter even though it was already clean, more to keep my hands busy than anything else.
“She’s still staying with Madison?” Maddox asked, not bothering to clarify who “she” was. He didn’t need to.
“Yeah,” I said, tossing the rag over my shoulder. “For now.”
He nodded. “And you’re still pretending you’re not completely gone for her?”
I laughed under my breath. “I’m not pretending.”
“You’re definitely pretending not to panic about it.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. “It’s just... complicated. We’ve both got history, stuff we haven’t really talked about. And I don’t wanna rush anything, you know?”
“You’ve had a thing for her since you were, what, fourteen?” he teased. “This isn’t new, Grey. It’s just finally real.”
