Page 131 of Play Dirty

And this time—

I could no longer pretend I didn’t want it.

~ 40 ~

GRAYSON

The storm didn’t let up.

If anything, it got worse.

I woke to silence — thick, insulated, unnatural — and for a second I didn’t remember where I was.

Then I felt her.

Haven.

Curled into me, one leg thrown over mine, her back pressed to my chest like she’d decided sometime in the night that distance wasn’t an option anymore.

I didn’t move right away. I lay back and enjoyed it.

My arm was already wrapped around her waist, my hand resting low on her stomach. I could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Warm. Slow. Real.

Last night shouldn’t have happened. It should’ve been a mistake.

It wasn’t.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the wind slam against the house, something outside rattling loose beneath what was probably a few feet of snow by now.

We weren’t going anywhere.

None of us were.

I let out a long, slow breath, while recollections of last night played fondly in my head.

Yeah… that was going to be a problem.

Haven twisted against me, making a soft sound in her sleep. My hand tightened without thinking.

That part?

That part felt like an even bigger problem.

I slipped out of the bed carefully, not waking her, and pulled on a pair of sweats. The room was warm — too warm — but the rest of the house wouldn’t be.

By the time I hit the hallway, I could already smell coffee.

I headed downstairs. The kitchen lights were on, throwing a dull yellow across the counters. Ares stood at the stove, shirtless, because apparently clothes had become optional. Sebastian leaned against the counter, watching the coffee machine like it owed him money.

Neither of them looked surprised to see me.

“Morning,” Sebastian said.

I grunted.

Ares didn’t turn. “You sleep?”

“Enough.”