24. #3
The room stayed quiet except for our breathing, uneven and tangled together in the dark.
I could still feel his heartbeat against me.
Fast.
Steadying slowly.
My legs felt weak, my body warm all over as he finally loosened his hold just enough to look at me again. Something softer had settled into his expression now, quieter than everything that had come before it.
His thumb brushed lightly along my cheekbone, pushing a piece of hair away from my face before he leaned down and pressed a slow kiss against my forehead.
At some point during the night we must've fallen asleep.
I wasn't sure when.
Only that every time I'd drifted off, I'd somehow ended up right back underneath him again.
Like once I'd finally given him permission to stop holding himself back, he'd spent the rest of the night making up for every second he waited.
And I'd let him.
Happily.
By morning my body felt deliciously sore in places I wasn't used to noticing, my thighs still aching slightly when I shifted beneath the blankets.
I laid there quietly for a second, staring up at the ceiling while flashes from the night before replayed in pieces across my mind—his hands, his voice, the way he kept looking at me.
I didn't regret any of it.
If anything, something in me felt clearer than it had in a long time.
Lighter.
Like for the first time in years my body had belonged to me while I was inside of it instead of feeling like something I was constantly managing for everyone else.
There hadn't been performance in it. Or obligation.
Or that familiar feeling of disconnect I'd gotten so used to pretending wasn't there.
Just choice.
Mine.
And somehow that realization followed me deeper than the sex itself did.
I rolled onto my side slowly, finally looking over at Grant. His back was facing me, the sheets sitting low against his waist while he slept hard enough that he hadn't noticed me moving yet.
The sight made warmth curl through me all over again.
Honestly—
I wanted him again already.
A small smile pulled at my mouth as I shifted closer, letting my fingers drag slowly up his arm before pressing a kiss between his shoulders. My lips lingered there for a second before I kissed him again, softer this time, my hand moving lazily over the warmth of his skin.
He groaned quietly almost immediately.
"Naomi," he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep as he finally rolled onto his back.
I smiled against his shoulder.
"Good morning."
One of his eyes opened halfway, still heavy with sleep, but the second he looked at me something in his expression changed.
Warmed.
His hand slid automatically to my thigh beneath the sheets while I pushed myself up slightly onto my elbow, looking down at him. His hair was messy, his face still soft from sleep, and somehow that version of him felt even more attractive than the composed one I usually got.
My gaze dropped lower without meaning to.
And apparently my body moved before my brain fully caught up because my hand followed right after.
The second my fingers wrapped around him, another low groan left his chest.
"Jesus," he muttered, letting his head fall back against the pillow.
I bit back a smile, moving my hand slowly, enjoying the immediate reaction it pulled from him. His jaw tightened while his grip slid higher against my thigh beneath the blanket, his breathing still rough from sleep and somehow making all of it worse.
"Thought you were tired," he murmured.
"I was," I whispered back.
My hand moved again.
Slower this time.
His eyes shut briefly, another quiet sound leaving him just as my alarm suddenly exploded across the room.
I groaned immediately, dropping my forehead against his chest.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
Grant laughed softly beneath me while I reached over blindly for my phone on the nightstand, silencing the alarm before the vibration of another incoming call immediately lit the screen.
Vivian.
Of course.
I sighed dramatically before answering, not even bothering to hide my irritation while my hand absentmindedly continued moving against him beneath the sheets.
"Morning," I mumbled.
"Good morning to you too," Vivian said dryly on the other end.
"Vanity Fair is in an hour and a half. Please don't tell me you forgot."
"I didn't forget."
Grant's hand slid over his face while I felt him trying not to laugh beside me.
"Good," Vivian continued. "Because Taylor's already there and the photographer moved the schedule up."
I stopped moving my hand long enough to push myself upright slightly.
"I said I'll be there."
"Wonderful. See you soon."
The call ended almost immediately after.
I dropped my phone onto the bed with a groan while Grant looked up at me, very clearly still affected, the need written all over his face.
"What's wrong?" he asked, even though he obviously already knew.
"I have a photoshoot in an hour and a half," I said reluctantly.
He stared at me for a second.
Then one corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"That's plenty of time."
Forty minutes later, the room looked lived in again.
Steam still clung faintly to the mirrors from the shower while discarded clothes remained scattered across the floor like neither of us had cared enough to pick them up yet.
I was standing near the dresser fastening my earrings back in place, dressed now but still feeling warm all over in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.
Grant was leaning against the bathroom doorway adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, watching me with that same calm expression that somehow always made me more aware of myself.
My purse sat open near the edge of the bed, the white envelope from Georgetown still halfway tucked inside. The second my eyes landed on it again, the nervousness returned almost immediately, sharp enough that it cut through the softness of the morning.
Grant noticed the shift in my face instantly.
"You still haven't opened it."
I exhaled slowly. "No."
"You planning on carrying it around all day?"
"Maybe."
A quiet laugh left him as he pushed himself off the doorway and walked further into the room. "You should see what they say."
"I know."
I stared at the envelope for another second before grabbing it out of my bag, my stomach tightening all over again the second I felt the weight of it in my hands.
This suddenly felt much scarier than it had yesterday.
Grant watched me carefully. "You want to open it now?"
"I don't know."
"Im sure you got in."
"You literally cannot know that."
"I do know that."
I shook my head immediately, nerves making me sharper than I meant to be. "Grant, if I open this and it's a rejection right before this photoshoot I might actually lose my mind."
"It's not a rejection."
"You don't know that."
He held his hand out toward me anyway.
"The choice is yours."
I looked down at the envelope again.
Then back at him.
Then, before I could think too hard about it, I shoved it into his hands instead.
"You open it."
His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Seriously?"
I nodded immediately before second guessing myself. "Yes. Please."
"You don't want to see for yourself?"
"No."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took the envelope from me. "You're hiding from your own mail now?"
"I'm serious."
I covered my eyes with both hands before I could change my mind.
Behind my palms, I heard the paper tear open.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
My stomach dropped instantly.
"Oh my God," I breathed. "They rejected me?"
Grant said nothing for another second.
"Dear Naomi," he read slowly, "we're sorry to hear—"
"What?" My hands dropped immediately as I lunged for the paper.
Grant laughed the second I snatched it out of his hand, and the sight of the word congratulations sitting at the top of the page hit me so fast I had to read the first line twice before it actually registered.
I got in.
I actually got in.
A shocked sound left me before I could stop it, somewhere between a laugh and a gasp as I looked back up at him.
"You're horrible."
I was already smiling too hard for the words to land anyway.
The excitement hit me all at once after that, sudden and overwhelming enough that I threw myself into him without thinking. Grant caught me easily, laughing softly as my arms wrapped around his neck.
"You got into Georgetown," he said against my hair, sounding far too pleased with himself for someone who hadn't written a single application.
I pulled back just enough to look at him. "I got into Georgetown."
"You did."
The words settled into me differently hearing someone else say them out loud.
Real.
For the first time since applying, it actually felt real.
And underneath the excitement, underneath the disbelief, another feeling slowly began settling in too.
Relief.
Because suddenly there was something beyond all of this.
Beyond Rodney.
Beyond appearances and schedules and carefully managed versions of myself.
Something that belonged entirely to me.
Unfortunately, reality came rushing back almost immediately after when my phone lit up again with another message from Vivian asking where I was.
I groaned dramatically, letting my forehead fall against Grant's chest.
"I have to go."
"You do."
"I don't want to."
His hand slid down my back slowly before he leaned down and kissed me once, softer this time.
"I'll be here when you're finished," he murmured against my lips. "If you want to come back."
I nodded. "I'll let you know when we wrap up."
I grabbed my bag before I could convince myself to stay longer, though the acceptance letter stayed clutched tightly in my hand the entire way out of the room.
By the time I arrived at the studio, the excitement from Georgetown had settled into something steadier, tucked somewhere beneath the surface but still warm enough that I could feel it every time I thought about it too hard.
Unfortunately, the second I stepped inside, reality started peeling that feeling back layer by layer.