Page 88 of Well That Happened

His free hand lifts to my jaw, fingers curling around my cheek as he deepens the kiss, slow and reverent at first—then fuller. Hungrier.

It’s not rushed.

It’s not frantic.

It’s the kind of kiss you give someone when you’ve been thinking about it for way too long.

His thumb brushes my cheekbone. My fingers tighten around his.

When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless—and a little dazed.

He doesn’t say anything right away.

Just looks at me, like I’m beautiful or something. It’s a lot.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he says finally.

I nod, still catching my breath. “Yeah. Me too.”

He lets out a slow breath, like that was the one answer he didn’t dare hope for.

And then he kisses me again.

Slower this time.

More certain.

And somehow that second kiss says even more than the first.

I have no idea how he does it, but his kisses do something to me. My body is warm and flushed, and my panties start to dampen.

Grayson kisses me again—slower, deeper. One hand slides to the back of my neck, anchoring me there. His thumb strokes just beneath my jaw and it sends heat spiraling down my spine.

I lean into him. Lose track of where we are.

Lose track of everything that’s notthis.

And then—

The front door creaks open.

We freeze.

Footsteps. Heavy ones. Heading toward the kitchen.

Grayson pulls back, eyes flicking toward the sound. His breathing is still shallow, chest rising and falling just like mine.

Neither of us speaks.

“Shit,” I whisper, already halfway to standing. “I should…”

He nods once, lips still parted like he might kiss me again if I stay a second longer.

So I don’t.

I grab my laptop, the blanket, anything I can without looking too flustered.

I barely make it halfway up the stairs before the heat in my chest becomes too much.

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