He reached out and wiped a crumb from the corner of my mouth with his thumb, a soft, automatic gesture that made my heartache.
Reaper gave a grumble of his own, rolling onto his back and pawing the air as if demanding attention. Grim scowled at him. I watched, biting my lip, as he relented after a long, drawn-out sigh and leaned down to scratch behind Reaper’s ears.
“You love him,” I whispered dramatically.
“I tolerate him,” Grim corrected without conviction.
“You’re hisfavorite person," I insisted. "He told me so.”
Grim lifted an eyebrow.
“He did,” I said solemnly. “In my dreams. Where all good dogs talk.”
He chuckled under his breath—the deep, rare sound that made my stomach flutter.
We lingered like that, warmth pooling between us, the world outside forgotten. The camera I’d used earlier sat forgotten on the counter, a strip of polaroids curling slightly in the late afternoon light. Reaper in Grim’s lap. Grim making a face at me behind a book. Me attempting to finish my basket, while Grim pretended not to watch.
I wanted tobottlethis.
I wanted tolivein this.
But the thirteenth biscuit.
The thirteenth hiccup…
“Is something wrong?” Grim asked, peering over his book.
I groaned. I was hoping to wait until this evening when Day was supposed to come for dinner before I’d brought the curse up. “I want to meet with Gentry, again.”
Grim set his book down carefully, turning his attention on me, his handsome features stoic and blank.
My stomach rolled. “I mean, I just think… not that this isn’t nice, and it really has nothing to do with you… I just still, well I think I shou—”
“Astoria.” He frowned. “If you want to see Gentry then we will go.”
“Are you… really?” I said with a bit too much enthusiasm.
“Of course,” he answered, his features never wavering. “You bartered your soul, but I never agreed to a collection date.”
I heard his words—his agreement to uphold our bargain—but his expression told a different story.
Shaking it off, I stood to press a kiss to Grim’s strong jaw, meaning it to be quick, a thank-you, but he caught me before I could pull away. His hands gripped my hips, dragging me into his lap, as if he’d been waiting all day for an excuse.
His mouth found mine without hesitation, hungry and commanding. I gasped against him, my arms wrapping instinctively around his neck as he kissed me as though he meant to consume me, tobrandme.
He nipped my bottom lip, soothing the bite with a slow, deliberate sweep of his tongue. When I shifted, squirming, he nudged my legs apart, one large hand moving down my thigh, guiding me until I was straddling him fully.
“Grim—” I managed, but he cut me off with another bruising kiss, all teeth and heat.
“I’m not patient enough to wait for later,” he said roughly against my skin, his voice a low rumble that shot straight through me.
Clothes became obstacles more than necessities. His hands slid under my shirt, greedy and sure, as mine tugged desperately at his.
Somewhere between kisses that left me dizzy and the scrape of his teeth along my throat, we managed to stumble our way toward the sofa. He sank down, dragging me with him, a chaotictangle of limbs and breathless laughter. The world narrowed to the heat of his hands, the urgency of our bodies.
Nothing else mattered. Not fate. Not curses. Not tomorrow.
Only now. Onlyhim.
