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“You’re gonna make this difficult, aren’t you?”

“Extremely.”

“Figured.”

Later, we climb into his enormous bed.

Grayson stays on his side.

I stay on mine.

For approximately three minutes.

Then I roll toward him.

“Gray?”

“What?”

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already are.”

I smile into the darkness.

“Can I hold your hand?”

Silence.

Then his hand slides across the mattress.

I lace my fingers through his.

His thumb brushes over my knuckles.

“Go to sleep, Pumpkin.”

I close my eyes.

For the first time in ten years, Grayson Blackwood is beside me.

Warm.

Real.

Alive.

And despite everything that’s happened, I feel safer than I have in a very long time.

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when a sound jolts me awake.

A strangled gasp.

Then another.