40 - Grayson
GRAYSON
The storm didn’t let up.
If anything, it got worse.
I woke to silence — thick, insulated, unnatural — and for a second I didn’t remember where I was.
Then I felt her.
Haven.
Curled into me, one leg thrown over mine, her back pressed to my chest like she’d decided sometime in the night that distance wasn’t an option anymore.
I didn’t move right away. I lay back and enjoyed it.
My arm was already wrapped around her waist, my hand resting low on her stomach. I could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Warm. Slow. Real.
Last night shouldn’t have happened. It should’ve been a mistake.
It wasn’t.
I stared at the ceiling, listening to the wind slam against the house, something outside rattling loose beneath what was probably a few feet of snow by now.
We weren’t going anywhere.
None of us were.
I let out a long, slow breath, while recollections of last night played fondly in my head.
Yeah… that was going to be a problem.
Haven twisted against me, making a soft sound in her sleep. My hand tightened without thinking.
That part?
That part felt like an even bigger problem.
I slipped out of the bed carefully, not waking her, and pulled on a pair of sweats. The room was warm — too warm — but the rest of the house wouldn’t be.
By the time I hit the hallway, I could already smell coffee.
I headed downstairs. The kitchen lights were on, throwing a dull yellow across the counters. Ares stood at the stove, shirtless, because apparently clothes had become optional. Sebastian leaned against the counter, watching the coffee machine like it owed him money.
Neither of them looked surprised to see me.
“Morning,” Sebastian said.
I grunted.
Ares didn’t turn. “You sleep?”
“Enough.”
That was all that needed to be said. A beat of silence passed. Then—
“She with you?” Sebastian asked.
I grabbed a mug from the crowded cabinet.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
“Figured,” Ares muttered.
There was no judgment in his voice, no curiosity. Just… fact.
I poured my coffee black.
“Storm’s worse,” Sebastian said, glancing toward the window.
I followed his gaze. Snow was piled halfway up the glass. Through the parts I could see, a swirling storm of white.
“Yeah,” I said. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Ares finally turned, leaning back against the counter, arms folded.
“Good.”
I raised a brow. His mouth twitched.
“No practice,” he said. “Tragic.”
Sebastian stifled a laugh.
“Mercer’s going to lose his mind.”
“Mercer’s not getting here,” I said. “No one is.”
That statement settled over the room. Not heavy, but real.
We were alone.
All of us.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. All three of us looked up at the same time.
Haven appeared a second later, wearing one of my shirts again — because of course she was — and a pair of shorts that barely reached her thighs. Her hair was tied back, her skin still flushed from the warmth of my bed.
She stopped when she saw us watching her.
A beat. Then—
“Well,” she said, like she’d just walked into a casual meeting. “This isn’t awkward at all.”
Sebastian snorted into his coffee mug. Ares didn’t move.
I took a sip of my coffee.
“You’re late,” I said.
Her eyes snapped to mine.
“Excuse me?”
“Coffee pot’s almost empty.”
Her pretty mouth opened.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she shot back. “I was a little… occupied.”
Sebastian choked on his coffee. Ares actually laughed.
I didn’t smile. But it was close.
“Yeah,” I said. “We noticed.”
“You might want to work on soundproofing,” Sebastian added. “Or don’t. I’m flexible.”
She crossed the room slowly, like she knew exactly what she was doing now. Like whatever hesitation she’d had before was gone.
That was new.
It was also dangerous.
Haven grabbed a mug and poured coffee, then leaned back between Ares and Sebastian like she belonged there.
Which, last night, apparently she had.
“You’re walking fine,” Ares said, like he was mildly impressed.
“I will throw this coffee at you,” Haven warned.
Sebastian laughed and shook his head.
“No you won’t.”
She poured some sugar into her coffee and stirred it. And by some sugar, I mean half the bowl.
“So…” she said, blowing across the top of her mug. “Anyone want to talk about it?”
For a long moment, silence reigned.
“About what?” Sebastian asked, way too innocent.
She shot him a look.
“Really?”
Ares pushed off the counter.
“I thought we covered it pretty thoroughly last night.”
“Very funny.”
I watched all three of them without saying anything. No one was pretending. No one was backing off. Not one of us was acting like last night didn’t happen.
That part seemed a little less awkward, at least.
“Didn’t think you’d keep eye contact like that,” Ares noted.
Undeterred, Haven met his gaze.
“Didn’t think you’d like it so much.”
A micro beat later—
“I didn’t say I liked it,” Ares shot back.
Haven winked at him.
“You didn’t have to.”
That one got a chuckle out of me. I raised my mug and toasted her.
To my surprise, Haven toasted me back.
“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.
I looked at her and set my mug down.
“Forward,” I said.
Her eyes met mine.
“Forward to what?”
I shrugged.
“We’ll figure it out.”
Sebastian shifted from one foot to the other.
“That’s not exactly a plan.”
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”
Ares stepped closer to her. It was amazing how quickly it made her look small.
“Doesn’t need to be.”
She looked between us.
All of us.
“The three of you are being way too calm about this.”
“That bother you?” I asked.
“A little.”
“Why?”
She gestured vaguely between us.
“Because this is insane.”
Ares shrugged.
“Yeah.”
Sebastian nodded.
“Objectively? Definitely.”
I picked up my coffee again and took a pull.
“Doesn’t mean we stop.”
That hung there for a while. Eventually, Haven let out a slow breath.
“And what if I wanted to?”
Ares tilted his head.
“Do you?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
“… that’s not what I said.”
Sebastian’s mouth curled into a smirk.
“Didn’t think so.”
I watched her reaction carefully.
“You can always walk away,” I said.
Her attention swung my way.
“Can I?”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“If that’s what you want.”
More silence. Then—
“… and if it’s not?” she asked.
I took a slow sip of my coffee. All the way until dregs appeared.
“Then you stop pretending this is temporary… because it’s not.”
That landed. I could see it.
In all of them.
The shift. The realization.
The storm hammered the windows again, harder this time, like it was trying to remind us the rest of the world still existed.
Right now though, it didn’t feel like it.
Not in that kitchen.
Not right then.
Haven looked at each of us, one by one. Then she smiled.
It was a slow smile.
A dangerous one.
“Good,” she said.
And just like that—
Everything changed.