Page 84 of Taken By the Pack

I finally look at her. Her expression is soft, open. No pity. Just... understanding.

She squeezes my hand. “I get it,” she says.

Something in my chest twists. “Yeah?”

She nods. “I grew up with parents who didn’t believe in staying in one place. We lived out of a camper van, selling handmade stuff in small towns. They were free spirits—hippies, I guess. But they loved me. They taught me how to bake over a campfire, how to read the stars. I was happy.”

A small smile ghosts over her lips, but it fades as she continues. “When I was ten, we were driving through a storm. Some truck driver lost control on a slick road. They died instantly.”

Her voice is steady, but I hear the edge of something deeper beneath it.

“I went into the system after that. Bounced from house to house. Some were okay, some weren’t. But I never stayed anywhere long enough to matter.”

I squeeze her hand. She doesn’t look at me, just stares out the window.

“When I turned eighteen, I left. Worked a shit ton of jobs, saved every penny, and came back here. I’d visited this place once with my parents, and I guess... I just wanted something that still felt like them. Like home.”

She lets out a small breath.

“Books, flowers, history—that’s my thing. The little things that remind me of them. That remind me I’m still here.”

My throat is tight. I don’t know what to say. So, I do the only thing I can.

I pull her in and kiss her.

She exhales against my lips, her hands curling into my shirt, pulling me closer.

“Thank you,” I murmur against her mouth.

“For what?” she whispers.

I rest my forehead against hers. “For trusting me with that.”

She tilts her head, brushing her lips over mine again, softer this time. “You trusted me first.”

And fuck, maybe I did. Maybe last night wasn’t just different because it was something new. Maybe it was different because, for the first time in years, I had let someone in.

The taxi pulls up in front of Grace’s place, and I pull out my wallet before the driver even says the fare. I shove some cash into his hand. “Keep it.”

Grace gives me a look as she pushes open the door. “Big spender.”

I smirk. “Efficient.”

She steps onto the curb, stretching slightly. The hoodie hangs loose on her, her hair still messy from the night before, and something about it hits me square in the chest.

She turns, catching me staring. “What time’s your meeting?”

I glance at my watch. “Half an hour.”

She hums, rocking on her heels. “That’s just enough time.”

I raise a brow. “For what?”

She steps closer, tilting her chin up. “My shower pressure’s not great,” she says, voice light, teasing. “But I’d still like the company.”

My body tightens instantly. “You sure?”

She nods. “Very.”

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