I’m not the only one holding my breath. “Not Jrue?” Grayson’s fingers curl and thread through mine.
“Not Jrue. It’s never been Jrue. It’s you. I’m really falling for you.”
Grayson’s exhale is a slow release. “Finally.” Then, to my surprise he lifts my hand to his mouth and brushes a toe-curling kiss across my knuckles. “I wanted to hear you actually say it.”
“You what?”
“Seems I owe myself twenty bucks. You admitted it.” He chuckles and hauls me closer.
I sprawl across his chest with a small screech but his arms band around me to keep me in place.
“You like me.” The tip of his nose brushes mine, a shiver cresting over my skin. “You want to date me.”
“And through it all I don’t hear you saying anything about me.”
“I thought it was obvious.”
The distance between us evaporates with his kiss. The moment our lips brush, everything else ceases to exist. There’s only Grayson and the scent of him, the rightness of this thing building between us.
My wolf sighs and settles, near enough to his to know she’s found a home.
Oh, yes. The word is correct. The one we both used—finally.
I lean into the kiss until his tongue brushes against mine, a tentative tease to question if I want more. I do. I want it all.
But moving too fast too soon comes with consequences and Grayson winces when I put too much weight on his still-healing chest.
“Ow. Mandi…raincheck on the make out. Please.” His eyes glow gold when I arch my spine for room. “Then, fuck, the things I’m going to do to you. Because you’re right. It’s always been you, too.”
Our sweet moment. Our love confession.
Our kiss.
The next one is a promise of things to come. Together, there’s no limit to what we can do.
Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
The drink burns a fizzy path down my throat into the emptiness in my gut, spreading warmth behind it.Delicious. The sweet tang of citrus and something floral fills my mouth and a spike of dizziness hits before I settle on my seat and fan myself.
Grayson shifts forward with an elbow leaning on the bar. “You like it?”
“You know me too well. It’s perfect.” I set the glass down and reach for him. “Like drinking sunshine.”
“It better be. The bartender said it’s called Summer Day. I thought you’d appreciate it.”
He twines our fingers together, linking us in an undeniable way. And the knots in my chest, the ones that grow and twine whenever we’re apart, finally settle.
“What about you? Not drinking tonight?” I ask.
“I figured I’d get you tipsy and see if I can entice you into some fun later,” he answers with a wink.
I smirk. “You really think you need to do anything?”
He chuckles and drags me to my feet. “Honestly, I want a clear head for my first exam on Monday. I’m too nervous to drink.”
“You know, most people have the opposite problem. They drinkbecausethey’re nervous.”