Page 52 of Sizzling Desire

But what did Grace do? She ran like she always does.

I exhale, scrubbing a hand down my face, replaying every damn second of what happened between us. I should regret it. Hell, maybe I should be pissed, but I’m not.

I don’t regret a single damn thing.

Not the way she came apart beneath me. Not the way she gasped when I filled her, her nails raking down my back as she shattered, and sure as hell not the way she looked at me afterward, eyes wide, lips parted, her whole-body trembling like I’d just wrecked her in the best way possible.

But then? Then she shut down, shoved me away, and fled like I was the biggest mistake she’d evermade.

And that? That pisses me off.

Because I know Grace. She might act like this was nothing, but I felt the way she responded to me. She wasn’t just caught up in the moment. This wasn’t some heat-of-the-moment mistake. It was real. For both of us. And now?

Now she’s holed up in the guest room, putting as much space between us as she can without outright leaving.

Or so I think. I hear a floorboard creak. I sit up, listening as soft footsteps move down the hall, heading toward the kitchen downstairs.

She’s up and she’s avoiding me.

I push out of bed, grab a pair of sweatpants, and run a hand through my hair as I make my way downstairs, ready to confront her, but when I step into the kitchen, I don’t find Grace.

I find a damn note.

My gut clenches as I snatch the piece of paper off the counter, my name scribbled in her messy handwriting.

Kane—Kate picked me up. Staying with her for a while.

That’s it. That’s all she gives me.

I crumple the note in my fist, my jaw tightening as I glance toward the front door like I could still catch her. But she’s gone.

And that? That’s unacceptable. Does she really think she can just leave without talking to me? That she can pretend like nothing happened?

I grab my phone and dial her number. It goes straight to voicemail.

I grind my teeth, considering driving over to Kate and Hudson’s place and demanding she talk to me, but I forcemyself to stay put. Grace isn’t some scared little girl. She doesn’t run—except when it comes to me.

I exhale, bracing my hands against the counter, trying to rein in my frustration. Fine. She wants space? I’ll give it to her. For now. But if she thinks this is over, she’s wrong, and the fact that she’s at Kate’s? That’s a problem because if the bastard lighting these fires strikes again, and she’s anywhere near it…

A sharp knock at the door yanks me out of my thoughts.

I glance at the time—too damn early for visitors.

Another knock, this time louder.

I yank the door open, fully prepared to tell whoever it is to fuck off, but instead, I’m met with the sight of Hudson, Declan, Trevor, and Ian standing on my porch, coolers in hand, fishing poles resting against the railing.

“What the hell?” I ask, running a hand over my face.

Hudson grins, stepping past me like he owns the place. “Rise and shine, asshole. We’re going fishing.”

I blink. “Fishing?”

Declan follows him in, shaking his head. “Don’t act like you have plans. You don’t.”

Trevor smirks, setting a cooler on the counter. “You’ve been in a pissy mood lately, and honestly? It’s getting pathetic.”

Ian claps a hand on my shoulder. “So, we’re fixing it. You’re coming with us.”

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