17. #4
It wasn't really a question. My body must have given it away somehow—the way my shoulders had sunk lower against the couch, the way the adrenaline that had been carrying me all evening was finally starting to burn out.
"Yeah," I admitted quietly.
The exhaustion had settled in all at once now, heavy and impossible to ignore.
Grant hesitated for a second, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"Do you want to stay here tonight?"
The way he asked it made something soften in my chest. There was no pressure behind the offer, no expectation attached to it. Just a quiet option placed gently in front of me, like he was making sure I understood the choice belonged entirely to me.
My mind flickered briefly to Rodney.
Missouri.
Two more days before he came back.
The thought of returning to that empty house tonight—the silence, the memories still clinging to the walls—suddenly felt unbearable.
So I nodded.
Grant's shoulders loosened slightly, relief passing over his face before he stood and offered me his hand.
"Come on."
I let him pull me to my feet and followed him toward the staircase, my fingers now loosely curled around his.
I'd been in this house before, but tonight everything felt different somehow.
The quiet felt warmer, softer, the kind of stillness that comes from a place being lived in rather than abandoned.
Books lined the shelves along the hallway walls, framed photographs sitting on small tables, the faint scent of cedar lingering in the air.
Grant led the way upstairs, the steps creaking faintly beneath our weight.
Halfway up I noticed something I hadn't before—another staircase continuing above the second floor.
"There's a third floor?" I asked.
Grant glanced back over his shoulder.
"Yeah," he said. "The gym."
"I thought you said that gym was in the basement," I asked.
He hesitated. "No there's something else down there."
We walked towards the end of the hallway before he pushed open a door.
The room was simple but comfortable. A large king-size bed sat in the center, framed by dark wood nightstands and soft lamplight that gave the space a quiet, calm feeling. Like the rest of the house, everything looked intentional without feeling stiff—clean, organized, lived in.
Grant stepped aside slightly as I walked in.
"If you want to get comfortable..." he said, his eyes briefly flicking toward the oversized hoodie I still had wrapped tightly around myself. "You can take that off if you'd like. You can put on something of mine."
My arms folded instinctively across my chest.
The thought of exposing the bruises underneath made something twist in my chest.
"I'm okay," I said softly.
Grant didn't question it.
"Alright."
He crossed to the bed and pulled back one side of the covers for me.
"You can take this side."
I climbed in slowly, pulling the blanket up around my shoulders. The mattress dipped slightly beneath me, softer than I expected, the warmth of the bed settling around my body almost immediately.
Grant pulled the cover over me before walking toward the closet across the room.
"I'll turn the AC on in case you get warm," he said over his shoulder.
I nodded, watching him disappear briefly through the closet doorway.
Left alone for a moment, my mind started wandering again.
Had I made things awkward?
Maybe I should have just taken the hoodie off.
Maybe—
The closet door opened again.
Grant stepped back into the room shirtless, a pair of plaid pajama pants hanging loosely on his hips. He reached over and turned off the lamp before walking around to the other side of the bed.
The mattress shifted as he slid under the covers.
For a while neither of us said anything.
The room settled into a quiet that felt surprisingly comfortable, the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the space between us as my thoughts slowly began to untangle from everything that had happened that day.
After a minute, Grant's voice broke the silence.
"Naomi."
"Yeah?"
There was a small pause before he spoke again.
"Can I hold you?"
Something about the way he asked it made my chest loosen a little.
Like the choice was entirely mine.
I shifted closer without answering, and Grant's arm slid gently around my waist as he pulled me back against him. His hand rested lightly against my stomach, careful, steady, grounding in a way I hadn't realized I needed.
The warmth of him behind me slowed my breathing almost immediately.
The tension that had been living in my body for days began loosening little by little, my muscles finally relaxing against the mattress as exhaustion crept in.
And somewhere in the quiet of that room, wrapped safely in his arms, sleep finally pulled me under.
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A/N This was my favorite chapter i've written for this book so far. We're finally getting to the end of the slow burn thank god !!!!! I appreciate a slow burn because the relationship feels so much more earned and deep but geez writing it is hell. Next chapter is gonna be so fun ahh.
See you next update !!