Chapter 16
Grim
Grim woke to warmth.
Not the kind that came from blankets or sunlight, but the kind that came from a person. From her.
Sophia was curled against him, her back pressed to his chest, her hair spilling across his arm in soft waves. His hand rested on her waist, fingers splayed over the fabric of her shirt like they’d found their place there in the middle of the night and refused to let go.
For a long moment, he didn’t move.
He breathed her in, the faint scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin, the quiet rhythm of her breathing. It was too much and not enough all at once. He wasn’t used to waking up with someone in his arms. He wasn’t used to waking up feeling… calm.
Sophia shifted slightly, a soft sound escaping her as she woke. Grim’s arm tightened around her before he could stop himself, a reflex he didn’t know he had. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t stiffen. She melted back into him like she trusted him to hold her.
She looked rested this morning, clearer and steadier than she’d been when she led him down the hallway last night.
“You okay?” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
She nodded, her voice soft. “Yeah.”
The quiet between them wasn’t sharp like last night. It wasn’t a wall. It was warm. Tentative. Something new.
“Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said.
“You didn’t leave,” she whispered.
The words hit him low, somewhere he didn’t have armor. He swallowed hard, loosening his hold enough for her to turn. She rolled onto her back, looking up at him with sleep-soft eyes and a tenderness he didn’t know how to accept.
“Didn’t want to,” he said, voice low, rough with truth he hadn’t meant to give her.
“Hi,” she whispered.
He blinked at her, still half-caught between disbelief and wanting. “Hi.”
Her hand lifted, fingers brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. He just watched her, heart thudding too hard in his chest.
“I meant what I said last night,” she murmured. “You’re not alone.”
His jaw tightened. He didn’t know how to be anything else. Didn’t know how to let someone stay. Didn’t know how to let someone see him without bracing for the moment they walked away.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” he admitted quietly.
“You don’t have to do anything,” she said. “Just… be here.”
He nodded once. Slow. Like he was agreeing to something bigger than the moment.
Eventually, they got up. Grim made coffee because it gave his hands something to do, something steady, something familiar. Sophia leaned against the counter, watching him move around her kitchen like he’d been doing it for years. The domesticity of it hit him harder than it should have.
He slid a mug toward her. Their fingers brushed, a soft, accidental touch that sent a warm jolt up his arm.
Neither of them pulled away.
Sophia wrapped her hands around the mug, grounding herself. “About last night…”
He stiffened. “If you regret—”
“I don’t,” she said quickly.
He looked up. Her eyes were steady. Sure. It shook him more than anger ever could.
He stepped closer without meaning to, drawn to her like gravity. “I don’t know what this is,” he said quietly.
“Me neither,” she whispered.
She set her mug down and reached up, fingers brushing his jaw. His breath caught. He didn’t move. Couldn’t.
“Maddox…”
The name hit him like a blow, not painful but intimate. Personal. Hers.
He didn’t know who moved first.
Maybe it was her. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was both of them finally giving in.
Her lips brushed his, soft, tentative, warm. His hands hovered for a heartbeat before settling on her waist, steady and careful, like he was afraid she’d break if he held too tight.
He kissed her back.
Slow. Measured. Hungry in a way he didn’t let himself be.
When they pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.
“We’ll figure it out,” she whispered.
He swallowed hard. “I want to try.”
The truth of it scared him. But it was real.
They sat at the table with their coffee, the air between them charged but gentle. After a while, Grim cleared his throat.
“There’s something I need to do today,” he said. “At the clubhouse.”
Sophia looked up. “Okay.”
“You don’t have to come,” he said. “It’s… a lot.”
She studied him, the tension in his shoulders, the uncertainty in his eyes. “I want to.”
His breath left him in a slow exhale.
“You sure?” he asked.
She nodded. “If I’m in your life, I want to see your world.”
Something in him eased. Something else tightened.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Then you’re with me.”
The words felt like a promise. A risk. A step he’d never taken with anyone.
Sophia reached across the table and took his hand.
He let her.
And for the first time in a long time, the path ahead didn’t feel like a battlefield. It felt like something he wanted to walk as long as she was beside him.