Page 38 of Well That Happened

Just heat and certainty and this quiet, unspoken ache that’s been building for weeks.

His mouth is warm. Patient. Devastating.

I kiss him back without thinking, fingers curling around his back, pulling him just a little closer.

It’s slow. Focused. Nothing like Caleb’s breathless fire. This is something else entirely—like Grayson’s trying to memorize every second of it.

His hand slides to my hip. Not possessive. Just anchoring me there.

And I let him.

I let the kiss deepen, my body warming everywhere he touches. The silence between us is gone, replaced by breath and skin and something that feels dangerously combustible.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.

He says nothing.

And he doesn’t have to.

Because I’m already spiraling.

Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

Because Caleb.

But right now, in this small, golden-lit room, with Grayson’s hands on my waist and his kiss still clinging to my mouth?

I don’t want to stop.

I pull back first.

Barely.

His lips are still right there, breath warm against mine, but the moment’s already tipping sideways—too much, too fast, and I’m starting to drown in it.

“I should…” I murmur, but I don’t finish the sentence.

Grayson’s eyes search mine, steady and unreadable.

He doesn’t stop me.

Doesn’t say anything.

Just lets me go.

I slip past him on bare feet, heartbeat wrecked, panties wet.

The hallway’s cold. The air feels sharp. My skin is hot.

I duck into my room and shut the door behind me—quiet, like silence might protect me from my own spiraling thoughts.

I lean back against the wall and exhale hard.

Becausewhat was that?

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was aproblem.A slow-burn, hand-on-my-hip, kiss-you-until-you-forget-why-you’re-running kind of problem.

And now I’m standing in the dark, heart pounding, legs shaky, and my panties embarrassingly soaked like my body hasn’t gotten the memo thatthis is not allowed.

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