Page 56 of Only for Love

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Grayson

My muscles bunch and flex, and I have enough energy running through me to deadlift a car or tear the front door off her house. I rock to the balls of my feet on Emma’s porch. The small Craftsman house is worn but safe. She’s in a semi-decent part of town, and her place has a tiny lawn and windows that could use a security latch.

All I can focus on is the two inches of wood separating Emma and me. I’ve never been more certain in my whole life that I’m somewhere I’m unwanted. “Open up, Ems.”

Thump. I laugh, pretty sure she just bumped her head against the door.

“Tell me this is a joke,” she moans.

“No joke, baby. I want see you.”

“Wait!” Another thump on the door, and I’m almost certain she’s replaced her forehead with her fist. “How do you even know where I live! Ijustmoved. Like, days ago. You said you thought I was at college!”

I like that she’s smart, that she’s thinking and questioning, because I don’t want a single doubt after tonight’s over. “Pays to know someone. You said you were close, so I pulled in a favor.”

“What? Do you have PIs on speed dial?”

Chuckling, I nod at the closed door. “Something like that.”

“Spies R Us?”

Now I’m definitely smiling. The girl’s still cute. “Titan Group.”

“Sounds like they shouldn’t know where I live.”

“But they do, so let me in.”

She sighs. It’s more relenting than frustrated, and I know I’ve won. I just need to drive a last point home.

My hand squeezes the phone. I’ll hang up soon as she opens. “Emma, you said you were miles away, not hours. I couldn’t stay away. I asked for help, and my buddy Parker pulled a solid.”

“Ha. Thank Parker for me.”

Cute plus a little bite. Emma’s coming back to me. I’ve got her voice, and I can picture her smile. This is ten times better than any medicine or therapy they gave me for being shot during war.

“I can’t believe you’re outside.”

“Good intel is good intel. Now open the door.” Nothing about this moment is planned. My heart’s in my throat. Little on earth scares me, but not knowing how she’ll react to this offensive maneuver makes me anxious. “I’m not standing out here all night.”

“Of course you aren’t. My neighbors will call the cops if you stand out there.”

I laugh, and my side hurts. But it’s a good kind of hurt. The wound is healing; I’m nowhere near one hundred percent, but I can feel my blood rushing, my body anticipating. It’s the best I’ve felt in years. “Come on, baby.”

There’s a shuffling noise on the other end of the phone. “I hate that you’re forcing my hand.”

But the door opens.

Emma Kingsley.

More beautiful than when I last saw her. My throat squeezes, and my pulse pounds in my neck, my temple. Fuck me… just… fuck me. Gorgeous. “Ems.”

Her eyelashes flutter, and color rises to her cheeks. Her blond hair is wild. It’s longer and fuller than I remember, and my palms itch to run over it. I step closer. She doesn’t move, doesn’t invite me in. Just stares like a wide-eyed beauty.

Here we are. Neither moving. I’m not breathing, and she might not be either. It’s intense. Thick tension pushes us together, but as the seconds tick by, we don’t move.

“Are you going to let me in?”

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