Grayson lay there in the darkness for a long time, staring at the ceiling, listening to the uneven rhythm of her breathing.
Eventually, it steadied, but it didn’t fool him. She was pretending, feigning sleep.
She was awake and hurting. Whatever haunted her ran deep. Deeper than a bad breakup. Deeper than cold feet over a kiss.
Beside him, she lay curled tightly beneath the blankets like she was trying to disappear. He looked at the small shape of her and made himself a promise.
Whatever demons she was fighting?
She wasn’t fighting them alone anymore. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
He wouldn’t tell her that; pushing her any further tonight would be a mistake.
So he decided to keep it to himself. And once again, two extra words played in his head.
For now.
Chapter Seven
Wren woke slowly, tangled in warmth and the lingering haze of sleep, her body heavy beneath the thick comforter. For one blissful second, she didn’t remember where she was.
Then she felt him stir beside her. The mattress shifted beneath his weight, the heat of him disappearing inch by inch as he eased from the bed.
Grayson.
The memory of last night crashed over her all at once—his mouth on hers in the dark, the soft scrape of his beard against her skin, the way his arm had tightened around her waist like he couldn’t get close enough. The low, guttural sound he made when she kissed him back.
Her eyes flew open. Gray morning light filtered through the hotel window, pale and soft, and she stared at the ceiling while panic and something more dangerous twisted together inside her chest.
She didn’t have it in her to face him yet.
Because…Jesus.
She’d kissed him back. Not only that, she’d melted for him. She could still feel the imprint of his body against hers, still taste Grayson on her lips. Her pulse jumped at the memory, a hot ache blooming in her belly.
That had never happened before.
She hadn’t frozen or flinched, which was a big improvement on the other times she’d been kissed. Every other time a man had gotten too close, her body had shut down instantly, like someone yanking a power cord from the wall. Each time, her lungs had tightened, her skin crawled, and her thoughts scattered into a blind terror until she couldn’t breathe.
Twice before, she’d tried for normal, convinced herself she could have what other girls had. Boyfriends, love, sex.
Ha ha.
Both attempts had ended badly. Like, spectacularly bad.
With Grayson, though, there hadn’t been any of that instant fight-or-flight response. At least not at first.
Nope. For about ten whole minutes, there was only heat and need and an overwhelming desire she’d never experienced before, as she held steady and kissed him back.
The thing that terrified her more than the kiss was the realization that she’d wanted him to keep going. She hadn’t wanted to stop. She’d wanted more. Another kiss, another touch, his hand under her shirt, his weight pressing her deeper into the mattress while she arched beneath him and…
And then she’d gotten what she wanted. Grayson started to climb over her, and it all turned to shit. Just like it always did.
Normal was for other girls. Not her.
A soft creak sounded from across the room, followed by the quiet click of the hotel door closing.
He’d left.
