CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Grayson
Once we returned to my condo after a hellish dinner at the pub, where I’d done everything in my power not to fucking strangle the waiter, who continuously flirted his ass off with Jovana during the entire meal, I went to the wet bar and poured myself a vodka.
Jovana disappeared to her room. She didn’t even take a box with her. They were still all lined up in rows, untouched, making a goddamn mess of my place.
Move-in day.
It wasn’t as bad as I’d suspected. She was already here almost every night anyway, leaving little things around my condo, so it couldn’t get much worse than it already was. The only difference was that this was officially her place now. Her mail had been switched to my address. Her name was in the call box outside the front of my building. If she got mad and stormed off, she would still be here; she’d just be on the other side of the living room in her wing.
A question I’d been asking myself all day, from the moment the movers unloaded the first box, was if I really minded having her here.
Damn it, I didn’t know why that was such a hard one to answer.
As I sat on the couch, I lifted the glass to my lips, holding it there long after I swallowed.
The answer wasn’t as much of a debate as it was admitting the truth.
We bickered like siblings.
She annoyed the shit out of me.
She wasn’t the neat freak that I was.
But I didn’t mind watching her walk around my place, braless, in her short shorts and tiny tank tops. I didn’t mind cooking eggs and bacon for more than one.
I didn’t mind the lack of quietness, where she always started conversations even when I wasn’t in the mood to talk.
I didn’t know why coming to that conclusion was so difficult.
It should be as easy as thinking, Yes, fuck, I enjoy being around her.
But it wasn’t.
It was hard.
Muddy.
Layered.
It took everything out of me to just let those thoughts pass through my head.
But they were there.
They existed.
And they were spreading, like the glass of water Jovana had dropped on my hardwood floors this morning that seeped into the cracks between the wood, expanding across several planks.
The water was gone once it was wiped away.
But even though Jovana wasn’t in my line of sight, she was far from gone.
That had nothing to do with being surrounded by her things.
That was because she lived in my head, and I couldn’t get her out.
Fuck, I didn’t want to.
I drained the rest of my glass, and as I was getting up to pour another few fingers’ worth, she came out of her wing, wearing a dark hoodie. She had in earbuds. Her hat was gone, her hair twisted high on her head.
As she neared the front door, I asked, “Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
I checked the time. It was past ten.
“At this hour?”
She slipped her phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt. “I didn’t get to walk this morning and I need it. I’m feeling—I don’t know what I’m feeling. So, yes, I’m going at this hour.”
“No.”
Her brows lifted and stayed. “No?” She added in a laugh.
“Yeah, no, you’re not going. I don’t care how safe this area is, you’ll be out there alone, in the dark, and something could happen. That’s not going to go down on my watch—not while you’re living with me.”
She shifted her weight between her legs. “And how exactly do you plan on stopping me from going?”
I chuckled, but mine was deeper and grittier than hers. “You really want to test me on that?”
“Why do you make everything so difficult?” Her hands went to her hips.
I had an answer for that.
But it wasn’t one I was ready to share.
I could barely settle the words in my own head, never mind speak them out loud.
“There’s a gym on the first floor. Go find your way to the treadmill.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m definitely not doing that.”
“Then I’m going on a walk with you.” I waited for her to respond. “Your choice: Treadmill or having me as company? Pick one.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hurry up.”
I left the glass on the island in the kitchen and walked into my bedroom, changing into a pair of sweats, a sweatshirt, and sneakers, and joined her in the entryway.
“You had to go with the gray sweats, didn’t you?”
I glanced down my body, trying to see what she saw. “Huh?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.” She released a long breath. “Let’s go.”
I followed her through the door and into the elevator and out the front of my building. Once we hit the sidewalk, her speed tripled, and I was suddenly rushing to keep up. “Jesus, slow down.”
“You wanted to come, don’t forget that.”
It wasn’t that I wanted to come; it was that I didn’t want her to be alone.
But I wasn’t about to explain that to her.
“No earbuds?” I said as I noticed they were no longer in.
“I didn’t want to be rude.”
“You’re telling me you want to talk?”
She glanced at me as we approached the crosswalk. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question, since you’re not one for a ton of conversation? But every time you do speak to me, you’re either bashing me, snarling at me, or picking me apart.”
Her admission hit my chest.
It didn’t bounce off.
It stayed there, penetrating my skin.
She took it as bashing, snarling, and picking her apart.
But what I was really doing was pushing her away. Backing her up. Preventing her from getting too close because I didn’t want her to see inside.
Or I didn’t want to reveal what was inside.
I didn’t know the difference or if there was one.
But once she saw, once I shared the way I felt about her, once I gave her that missing piece, everything would change.
The way I saw my future.
Me.
Us.
“I know.”
She’d stopped looking at me, but her stare returned.
“I haven’t been the nicest to you, Jovana. I’m acknowledging that.”
We were at the start of the crosswalk. She didn’t move even though she could and there were no cars around. “Whoa.”
I laughed. “I’m not good at admitting things like that. I guess that’s because I never think I’m wrong.” I gave her a small smile. “But I haven’t been the most gentle with my words and I’m sorry for that.”
“You’re apologizing? I feel like this is a moment that should be documented.”
I nodded. “You’re not wrong about that.”
She pulled at her collar. “Where did this realization come from?”
My hands hung at my sides, and I shoved them into the large front pocket of my sweatshirt. “Now you’re pushing it.”
“I’m not. I’m just trying to understand this—and you. Did you have an epiphany on the way back from the pub? Or in your condo when I made a mad dash to my wing? Or when I told you I was going for a walk? What caused it?”
I searched her eyes. “Why does it matter?”
“Because everything about you matters.”
Even though she was pleading with me, there was a softness in her eyes. In her posture. Even in her lips.
I started walking and she was right beside me, only inches separating us. I could feel her stare in my peripheral vision.
“Grayson . . .”
“I heard your question,” I barked, aware that I was doing it again, and I found myself halting and facing her. “You’re expecting me to say I had this shining moment when everything came to a head and I recognized the bite I always have with you, but I can’t say that. It’s just been ... an accumulation of thoughts.”
Situations when I became cognizant that I was smiling more than frowning.
When I’d bring orange juice and vodka into my room, telling her not to bother me, so I wouldn’t regret pulling her into my arms or telling her that I cared.
When I read her conversation with Jared and watched Sebastian flirt his ass off, a beast of anger moving through my chest because these men were invading my territory.
When I viewed our photos together on Instagram and saw the way I looked at her.
Those were the moments when it hit home.
When I knew she was different.
That we were unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.
“What are those thoughts, Grayson?”
My hands clenched inside my sweatshirt, sweat rising through my skin.
My heart was fucking pounding.
I could even feel it in the back of my throat.
It was producing this sensation where all I wanted to do was run.
That was all I knew. That was why I’d hooked and fished, so I wouldn’t have to stick around.
So I could stay uncommitted.
But this beautiful woman was staring into my eyes and she wanted the truth.
My truth.
Why is it so goddamn hard to say it?
“You’re not going to let it go, are you?” I stared up at the sky, wishing for rain.
But it wasn’t going to come.
At least not before I voiced what she wanted to hear.
“No. I’m not,” she admitted.
When I looked at her again, her expression hit me just like her statement had earlier. “What do you want from me, Jovana?”
“I want you to say what I already know.” She took a step closer. “I want to hear the words you’ve been holding back because you weren’t ready to say them.”
My stare dropped to the ground as a new feeling entered my chest.
It wasn’t tightness.
It wasn’t a throbbing.
This was different.
A beat that I hadn’t experienced. An urge that was almost beyond my control.
When I gazed up again, she had moved once more, our bodies now almost pressed together.
“Say it,” she whispered.
I wanted to fucking growl.
I wanted to fight.
I wanted to do what I did best and find something to use against her, pick her apart, or snarl in her face.
But that would get me nowhere—and that was a direction I’d been heading in for a long-ass time.
“Jovana ...” My voice was quiet, almost unrecognizable. “I care about you.”
She smiled. “See, was that so hard?”
I appreciated the sarcasm.
I even huffed out a burst of air before I said, “Yes. It was.”
She grabbed the collar of my sweatshirt and leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips against mine.
The kiss was slow, passionate.
Sexy as hell.
And when she pulled away, she kept her face hovered in front of me.
“I don’t know what any of this means,” I told her, “or how things are going to change between us or what I’m even capable of. I don’t know how to do this. You know I’ve never done anything like it before.” I paused, collecting myself to make sure I stayed and didn’t start to veer. “But what I can tell you is that I’m happy you’ve moved into my home and the feelings I have for you are strong and extremely real and”—I stopped to kiss her—“I want more. With you, with us.” I lowered my hands down her back until they were gripping her ass. “And, fuck, I want you.”
“Grayson ...” Her stare moved between my eyes. “I feel the same way.”