Page 107 of Silver Fox Puck

And even unconscious, he’s still holding onto me. A deep breath shudders out of me.

Because I know what last night was.

I know what it meant. It wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t just a rash choice. It wasn’t just another hot hookup I could shove into the “fun but forgettable” category of my life.

It was a choice. And I chose him.

And now? Now, I have to decide what the hell to do with that. I don’t move. I should slip out of bed, grab my clothes, and put space between us before my brain catches up to what just happened.

But I don’t.

Because something is different. Something inside me isn’t screaming to run. And that? That’s terrifying.

I swallow hard, staring at the ceiling.

My whole damn body is rebelling against everything I thought I knew about myself. I take a slow, careful breath and slide out from under Grant’s arm. He shifts slightly, his hand grazing my waist before his grip loosens.

I freeze.

But he doesn’t wake up. Just exhales a slow, deep breath and settles back into sleep. Something about that—his comfort, his ease, his trust—sends a slow pulse of warmth through me.

And it’s almost enough to keep me in bed.

Almost.

I walk into the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and gripping the countertop. My reflection in the window over the sink stares back at me.

Hair a mess. Lips a little too swollen from last night. Eyes a little too wide with panic.

Because… what now?

What does this mean?

What does he think it means?

What do I want it to mean?

My stomach tightens. Because for the first time in my life, I don’t have an easy answer ready to go.

And that?

That might scare me more than anything. I take a deep breath. Then another. And when that doesn’t help, I turn on the water and splash cold water on my face and tell myself to get a grip.

Because running isn’t an option.

Not this time. I made a choice and I mean it.

I walk back into the bedroom just as Grant stirs.

He rolls onto his back, one arm draped over his forehead, his body all sleepy, warm muscle tangled in my sheets.

And just like that, my panic takes a backseat to something else.

Something deeper.

Because he looks so different like this.

Unburdened. At peace.

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