Chapter 48
Forty-Eight
Faye
My phone rings, and though I’ve gotten better about stifling the blip of hope—and subsequent lash of pain—that rises each and every time a call comes through…
It’s still there.
“It’ll get better soon,” I whisper, even though I know that’s a lie. Then I take a breath, and seeing Luna’s name on the screen, I swipe to answer the call.
But I barely get my “Hello?” out before she’s shouting.
“Turn on your TV. Now!”
“Wh-what?”
“Faye. Turn on any cable network. Right fucking now.”
I don’t ask why, just reach for the remote…which is on Gray’s nightstand.
It was unwise to spend another night at his house. I hadn’t made it to the guest room. Instead, I pulled on my Grizzlies jersey went to his room, and—
Slept with his name between my shoulder blades.
One more night with him.
With his scent all around me, pretending the jersey was his big, strong body cuddling me close. Convincing myself I tried hard to fight for him, that I did all I could, that I can’t keep pushing when I’m not wanted.
All the while, thinking this last week has been the biggest mistake of my life.
Giving up.
Letting him walk away.
Praying for him to come back when I could just get on a plane and make him see our love it too important to let go of.
Because, God, I miss him.
The way his beard catches on the strands of my hair, how his spice fills my nose and the way his lips move on mine, his hard body and soft voice…
Which is coming from the speakers of the television.
Gasping, I turn up the volume.
“…I got in the habit of not discussing my personal life,” Gray says and my heart hurts at how tired he looks, how uncomfortable.
“It’s because of my reticence to trust the media that Faye refrained from sharing our relationship with the world, and it’s because of me that her job is being threatened. ”
I hold my breath.
“And what do you say to critics who say her job is…”
He sits back and crosses his arms, brows lifting. “I’ll wait while you attempt to find a word that properly denigrates the beautiful stories that my Faye brings into the world.”
My heart starts pounding.
The interviewer opens her mouth, closes it. Then lifts her chin. “Some would say it’s filth.”
“And yet, I got no pushback about being naked in the body issue of a famous sports magazine and TV shows that are filled sex and violence get national awards.” He raises his eyebrows.
“But a love story where the main characters fall in love and find enjoyment in every part of that is somehow…filth?”
“Oh, he’s good,” Luna says.
I jerk, not having realized that I still have my phone pressed to my ear, that she’s still on the line.
But I can’t hang up.
Not when I’m soaking in every word.
“And have you enjoyed being her inspiration?”
“God, where’d they find this bitch?” Luna mutters.
“If anyone finds similarities between me and the heroes that Faye writes then all I can say is that I’d be honored to have a modicum of what makes them so special to her readers.
” A self-deprecating chuckle. “Though, before people get too carried away, I’d remind them that imagination is a thing…
and that I don’t have the secret ability to turn into a wolf. ” He winks at the camera.
Pride bubbles up in my throat.
“Fuck yeah,” Luna whispers.
“Let’s transition to the topic of your wife,” the interviewer says. “Because I do believe you’re still married—something I can’t imagine the Grizzlies organization is happy about, considering you’re carrying on this blatant affair.”
Gray’s lips press flat. Then he sighs. “As you know, my soon-to-be-ex-wife and myself have a long and complicated past, but in the spirit of honesty, I’ll share that the divorce papers are signed and filed, and all that’s left before the both of us can officially move on is for a judge to sign off on our agreement.
” He smiles pointedly. “In fact, she recently shared with me the exciting news of her engagement.”
“Oh wow, and that doesn’t bring up any hard feelings for you?”
“No,” he says. “Because I’ve fallen in love with a strong, smart resilient woman who’s shown me more of the world than I ever thought possible.”
“Like what?”
He looks at the camera and my breath catches because it’s like he’s right here in the room with me, staring into my eyes, murmuring. “Like how to make banana bread.”
There’s a pause, a long pause.
Then, “Banana bread?”
“Yup.” He stands, tugging off his microphone, setting it carefully in the chair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a flight to catch.”
“Luna?” I whisper.
“I think he’s got his head on straight,” she says pride in every word.
“I…I’m not sure about that. I mean what if he was just doing that to protect me?”
“He was.”
I gasp. Because that didn’t come through the phone. It came from—
“Gr-Gray,” I stutter, desperately trying to process the fact that he was just on TV and now he’s standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “I—”
“But it wasn’t just to protect you, baby.
It’s because you deserve a man to fight for you, to take on the world for you, to make it clear to every asshole out there that the love we have is the most important thing in my universe and I will never—fucking never—be so much of a coward as to walk away from it again. ”
He’s reached the bed now and gently slips my phone from my hand, ending the call and tossing it on the nightstand.
“I was scared,” he whispers. “Of all I feel, and all the ways it can go wrong, and…I was a fucking idiot.”
My breath catches. “I was scared too,” I tell him. “And I didn’t fight either. I just kept thinking…you’re you and I’m me and maybe that’s why we couldn’t work out…” The rest of my words die in my throat at the furious look on his face.
He leans over me, his hot green eyes holding mine, and he cups my jaw in his hands. “You’re not special because you love me, Red. You’re special because you’re you.”
“I—”
“You’re the strongest, smartest, most resilient woman I’ve ever known”—his mouth kicks up—“and I think you know how big that is because I know a lot of smart, strong women.”
Luna.
Kailey.
Harper.
Bri.
Me.
I close my eyes against the rush of emotions, so many, so fast it’s like regaining feeling in a limb, painful and tingling and overwhelming as the relief and love and fear and hope all battle to take over.
Before I can give voice to any of them, he rasps, “Please don’t leave.”
“I—”
It’s rough and desperate and steals my breath—or maybe that’s his kiss as his mouth drops to mine and he takes advantage of my parted lips to slip his tongue inside.
As I sink into his touch I have a fleeting thought—
Maybe the bright, brilliant love I’ve given my heroines…is something I can have too.
Then I’m not thinking about how miserable the last week has been or how this is likely a really vivid dream or maybe that I’ve gone insane and slipped into a fantasy because how can he possibly be here?
Instead, I’m thinking about how good it feels for his big body to be pressing mine back into the mattress and how the hot, slick darts of his tongue set me aflame.
Need burns through me, lips to between my legs, fires in each and every one of my nerves.
It’s desperate, trying to suck every bit of sensation out of me—like Gray is trying to turn me into a ball of feeling, of yearning, of craving.
But I was already there even before his mouth hit mine.
And when he levers up, yanks the blankets aside, and freezes, my craving hits a breaking point.
If this is a fantasy, I want to be the one in charge.
I shove at his chest and he rolls to the side, sprawling on the mattress as I clamber on top of him. I don’t take a moment to enjoy the view, just bend and fuse our mouths together.
His hands grip my hips, holding me tightly against him, and it’s natural to rock, to ride the hard ridge of his erection.
But there are too many layers between us.
Groaning, I tear my lips from his, reaching for his shirt, yanking it out of his slacks.
A few buttons rip off, hit the floor with little plinks, but I’m too busy working at the button of his pants, struggling with the zipper. I shove at the waistband of his pants and he helps me, lifting his hips, dragging them down.
Along with his underwear.
“Thank God,” I whisper as his cock springs free, wrapping my hand around it and desperate to taste him, I bend, sucking him deep, stroking fast.
Too fast.
Too frantic.
But he’s here and he’s hard and I’m…so damned needy.
His hands go to my armpits and he yanks me up.
I protest when I lose the hard length of him, but I get something better—Gray angling me so he can drag my underwear down. He tosses it to the side, settles me over him again.
“No,” he says when I reach for the bottom of the jersey, intending to remove it, his gorgeous green eyes blazing into mine, “leave it.”
I shiver.
But I leave it.
Then I’m wrapping my hand around him again, shifting forward.
The head of his cock rubs against my clit and I shudder, my orgasm already shockingly close.
“Inside,” he rasps as I rock again, rubbing at him, the reverberations of sensation through my body so damned good I don’t want to stop.
Only, I want him inside more.
So, I shift, angle him and—
“Fuck,” Gray groans, head dropping back, the tendons on his neck standing out in sharp relief, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I may end up with bruises.
And I don’t fucking care.
Because he’s inside me, deep, filling me up.
I rock again, and it’s even better with his cock stretching me, his hardness grinding against all the right places.
“Faster,” he grunts, hands encouraging me.
And yeah, faster is good.
It’s great.
And when he starts rocking against me in turn, matching my rhythm, keeping me flush against him as he reaches between our bodies to tease my clit—
“Gray!” I cry.
“That’s it,” he says, sweat on his brow, his hands clenching tight, his cock so damned hard inside me. “Come for me, Red. I’m close, baby. I need you to—”
I explode, his name on my lips, my rhythm going jerky, my pussy—
Clamping tightly around him.
He groans, bucking against me, drawing out my pleasure, and…
Finding his own, his gorgeous face as he comes apart the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Or maybe…
Maybe that’s his face when I collapse on top of him and he rolls us both to the side, settling his hand on my jaw.
Settling me.
Because I know it’s not a fantasy.
I know it’s not a dream.
I know it’s just him.
And I’m so not letting him go.