I wanted nothing more than to see him. To touch him. To kiss him. The thought of his smile, his touch, the way he made everything better…it was all I could think about.
And then he came over, clearly concerned about me, thinking I was on my period or something—bringing me tampons, pads, and even several bags of popcorn.
My heart melted against my chest because nobody has ever been so thoughtful like that before.
How was he so fucking perfect?
Greyson suddenly jumps off the bed, and extends his hand toward me, urging me to take it.
Tilting my head, I look at him confused. “W-what are you doing?”
“Dance with me.” His fingers wiggle in front of my eyes.
“Dance with you?” I question, furrowing my brows.
“Have you ever slow danced?”
The answer is simple, no. I’m a huge romantic, and slow dancing to me is one of the most magical things you could experience as a person. It’s silly, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. But whenever I asked my ex to dance with me, he would scoff in my face and tell me slow dancing was pathetic.
I think he’s pathetic.
Shaking my head, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and meekly whisper. “No.”
“Now’s the time to learn,” grinning, he leans forward and clasps his hand in mine, pulling me off the bed too. “Come on, Lil-Bug…live with me, baby. Right here, right now. You and me. Let’s live,together.”
Feeling my cheeks heat as he pulls me flush against his chest, my hand rests on his shoulder as he circles his arm around my waist. The song “I wanna be yours” by the Arctic Monkeys plays softly through my speakers, and we begin swaying to the rhythm.
I take a deep breath in. A lump forms in my throat, andthe emotions threaten to break the surface.
This is everything I dreamt of but never thought I’d experience. And once again, I’m experiencing something new with Greyson—something I’d always wanted to do. And he wasn’t judging me, belittling me, or even making snarky comments…he was encouraging me.
Something Kyle never did.
Laying my head on his shoulder, I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. And once the song reached its chorus, I closed my eyes, letting myself be swept away for a moment.
It’s like I’d personally written the lyrics.
The chorus, speaking about secrets being held…I was guilty of that because the secret I held closest was my ever-growing feelings toward Greyson.
It was like trying to contain a storm within me, the intensity of my emotions threatening to spill at any moment. The more I tried to hide it, the more obvious I felt it became. And I feared that one day he would see right through me, that he’d realize I’d blurred the lines between “fake” and “reality” and then what?
Would we end this arrangement between us?
The thought of losing him was unbearable, but I couldn’t stop the feelings I felt toward him. I couldn’t turn off the growing affection that threatened to overwhelm me. I’d tried, and I’d failed.
Suddenly Greyson spins me out, making me giggle. Looking at him with a smile on my face, laughter escape his throat, and my smile widens.
Fuck, I love his laugh.
He twirls me away before pulling me back to his chest, and a huge smile breaks out on his face, making his eyes light up. And that’s when I realize I’m fucked. Real fucked. Because in this moment I don’t care if my heart gets broken twice in one year. Greyson could break my heart, and I’d thank him for it.
I’d never felt so safe in one’s arms before. And for the first time in forever, I felt genuinely fucking happy. And it was all because of him.
I peer up at him to see him already looking down at me, and then like a dam had broken, I grip the nape of his neck, pulling his head down toward me and connect our lips in a desperate kiss.
The kiss was everything I needed—fierce, passionate, and filled with a raw need that made me feel weak at the knees. I clung to him, my fingers tangling in his hair as I poured all my pent-up emotions into the kiss.
Greyson’s hands roamed my back, pulling me even closer, as if he couldn’t seem to get enough of me either. Our tongues swirled around one another, each one fighting for control. I didn’t care who took control, all I wanted was his lips still on mine.
