28 - Grayson
GRAYSON
This was a mistake.
I knew it.
The second she climbed into my bed, I knew it.
The second her legs slid over mine—
I really knew it.
I should’ve stopped, or said something, or drawn a line. I should’ve done what I always did — keep control, keep distance, keep things clean.
Instead, I kissed her.
Again.
Haven didn’t hesitate this time. She didn’t pull back, or question it. Her mouth met mine like we’d already crossed whatever line this was supposed to be. Like we both knew there was no going back anyway.
Damn.
This wasn’t just a mistake, it was a distraction. A problem for me, for the team, for everything.
I found that I didn’t care. Not right now, anyway.
Her legs tightened around me, bare skin sliding against mine, heat bleeding through every layer between us until there wasn’t enough distance left to pretend this was anything but exactly what it was.
I exhaled sharply into her mouth, my hand moving before I could stop it. Slowly, deliberately, it traveled up her leg, feeling the curve of her calf, the back of her knee—
Higher.
Too high.
Her shorts were useless. Practically nonexistent. My fingers brushed the inside of her thigh, where heat poured off her, and—
She made a sound.
Soft. Barely there.
It hit me harder than anything else.
“Grayson…”
Fuck, I loved the way she said my name — like it meant something. The way she breathed it out, her lips pressed against mine.
And that was it.
That was all it took.
I tightened my grip instinctively, pulling her closer, my mouth finding hers again. I kissed her deeper this time, rougher, like I’d already lost the fight and didn’t see the point in pretending otherwise.
This wasn’t controlled anymore. This wasn’t careful. This was—
I stopped.
Not completely, but just enough.
My hand stilled. My head cleared for one sharp, brutal second.
Too far.
I reached blindly toward the edge of the bed, grabbed the sweatpants I’d tossed there earlier, and pressed them into her hand.
“Put these on,” I muttered, against her mouth.
She blinked at me.
“What?”
“Put them on,” I said again, my voice lower now, tighter. “Because if you don’t—”
I exhaled, hard.
“—I’m not stopping.”
Haven stared at me for a half-second, batting those bright blue eyes. Then— she pushed them away.
“But I—” I started, dragging a hand from her hip. “I just—”
“Grayson?” she murmured, her lips brushing mine again.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
That did it.
I kissed her again, harder, as Haven pulled my hand back to her warm, bare stomach. There was no hesitation this time. No restraint. Whatever control I’d been clinging to snapped clean in half.
I shifted between her legs, feeling them open for me without resistance, wrapping around my waist like she’d already decided this wasn’t something she wanted to stop either. The heat was insane. It was everywhere. Immediate. Totally overwhelming.
She moaned again when my hand slid back up her thigh. Her reaction was sharper this time; her body tightening beneath me, pulling me closer like she needed more of it. More of me.
“Jesus…” I muttered against her mouth.
This was happening.
There was no stopping it now.
It was actually—
A crash exploded outside the door; loud and violent. We both froze through another bang, this one accompanied by shouting that grew louder in pitch and volume.
The commotion was right outside.
“What the—” I started.
Someone slammed into the wall… hard. Voices — chaotic and angry — spilled into the hallway.
Not ours, though. No one from our group.
Then—
Pounding on my door.
“Reavers! Open up!”
Mercer.
I exhaled sharply, dropping my head for a second before pushing up off the bed. Pushing back from between her legs…
“Shit.”
Haven sat up fast, dragging the sheet with her. Her sapphire eyes were wide, her breath uneven, as reality hit the both of us at the same time.
“Clothes,” I said, already moving.
I grabbed the sweatpants again, and this time she didn’t argue. She pulled them on quickly, then reached for the first shirt she could find — one of mine — dragging it over her head to cover her half-shirt.
My old jersey tee. The one with my number on it.
Another series of pounding rattled the door.
“Now!”
I ran a hand through my hair, forcing my breathing under control as I crossed the room and unlocked it. The door swung open. Mercer stood there, already pissed, with half the team behind him.
And then beyond that…
The rest.
Fuck.
Ares. Sebastian. Their eyes went straight past me, right to her. Standing there in my clothes.
“Everyone okay?” Mercer barked.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “We’re good.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the room. Eventually they flickered back to Haven.
“Why is she in here?”
“She got spooked,” I said. “There was a fight outside her room.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Zack muttered, standing somewhere behind the coach.
Ares didn’t move. That was worse than if he had. He just stood there next to Sebastian, the both of them watching.
But neither of them looked very convinced. In fact—
“It’s not like that,” I added sharply. “They were right outside her door.”
I jerked my thumb down the hallway.
“Go on. Look.”
A couple of them moved down the hall. Zack’s voice shouted back.
“Yo! There’s blood out here.”
That shifted things. Just enough.
Mercer swore under his breath. “Everyone back to your rooms,” he growled. “Now.”
Nobody moved.
“Or I start pulling ice time,” he grunted, his voice lower and more dangerous.
That did it. Guys scattered. Doors opened and closed, all along the hall. Mercer watched, arms folded, like a shepherd putting his flock away. Eventually, his gaze drifted back to Haven.
“Your own room,” he grunted.
She nodded once, and stepped away.
Halfway down the hall, Haven looked back at me. Just for a second. And in that second, everything we’d almost done hung there. Unfinished. Unresolved. What could’ve been. What almost was.
Then she turned away, and I stood in the doorway watching her go. I should’ve been thankful for the interruption. For the prevention of a huge mistake, that could only complicate things.
What scared me most… was that I didn’t regret it.