Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
A long time later, I lay in bed with her in front of me, holding her close, and I think of that ring. I’m going to give it back to her, but not until I know she will never take it off again, and right now, I don’t know that and I don’t think she does either.
Chapter twenty-three
Mia
Iwake to a dark room, the heavy, warm feeling of Grayson holding me, and the spicy wonderful scent of him that I’ve missed so very much. I smile, snuggling closer to Grayson, and he tightens his grip around me, that safe feeling I told him he makes me feel in full force right now. My lashes flutter and I slip back into that half-slumber state of pure bliss where I get to enjoy who I’m with and where I am without getting out of bed. Only I don’t stay awake. I’m just too relaxed and comfortable and I feel the inevitability of sleep as the world goes dark.
The next time I wake I become aware of my surroundings, there’s a dull light peeking beneath the curtains and a shift of the bed behind me. “Grayson?”
“You rest, baby,” he murmurs next to my ear, his breath a warm trickle on my neck. “I need to go make some phone calls.”
“Do you have to go?”
“I’m not going anywhere for long,” he promises. “You sleep. I’ll be back here with you when you wake up.” He kisses my neck and then he’s gone.
I stay where I’m at, listening to him dress, and a few seconds later, he appears on this side of the bed in a pair of sweats and disappears into the bathroom. If this was a year ago, I’d go back to sleep. I’d feel safe and secure, and really, I do now—I do, at least, when Grayson’s with me, but he’s not. He’s up. He’s moving. He’s leaving the room and right now, this morning, I feel like we’re dealing with those flaws that he named. Flaws. I really hate that word.
I squeeze my eyes shut and replay last night’s conversation with Grayson about that word. When I open my eyes, Grayson is exiting the bathroom, pulling a T-shirt over his head and by the time it’s in place, he’s left the room. I tell myself to go back to sleep, to just relax into the perfection of being back here with him, but I can’t.
Those phone calls he needs to make are likely about Ri and I need to be a part of fixing what problems I helped create. And I did help create them. I was used in a dangerous game Ri was, is, playing with Grayson. I sit up and throw away the blanket, leaving myself shivering as a chill touches my naked skin. I quickly walk across the room, enter the bathroom, and a few minutes later, my teeth and hair are brushed, my face washed, and I’ve pulled on sweats and a tee just in case we have company.
I hurry down the hallway and as I round the corner, the deep rumble of Grayson’s voice lifts in the air. I enter the living room and spy him in the connected kitchen standing behind the island with the phone on the counter, obviously on speaker as he says, “I have no idea, Eric.” He looks up and his eyes light on me and then warm, his gaze sweeping over me in that familiar, always hungry way that says he wants to gobble me up. I really do love when this man wants to gobble me up.
“How the hell would Becky even get your number?” Eric asks. “You never gave that bitch your number.” I am human enough to approve of this reply from Eric and I step between Grayson and the counter, my hands settling on his chest, as Eric continues with, “She left the damn state after you promised to ruin her and before we ever found out what the fuck that set-up was all about.”
My eyes go wide, and Grayson shackles my waist, pulling me against him, his fingers tangling into my hair. “Betrayal,” Grayson says, his lips near mine. “It was always about betrayal.” I’m not sure I like that reply and how it relates to our breakup, but his mouth comes down on mine, his tongue delivering a seductive caress that I feel from head to toe. Fighting a moan, I melt right there in the kitchen, a big puddle of need and want, my hand sliding under Grayson’s T-shirt, while Eric is forgotten.
That is until he says, “Grayson? Hello? Are you there?” and I realize that perhaps he’s been talking and I didn’t notice.
Grayson’s lips part from mine, a curve to his mouth as he says, “I’m here.”
“And?” Eric prods.
“And what?” Grayson asks, his lips nearing mine again, a warm trickle of his breath promising another kiss I really want and now.