Page 127 of Seeing Grayscale

With an adorable chuckle, he continues, “I know I have dreams—and nightmares—but I don’t remember them. Wonder if that’s a good thing or not.”

“Depends on how you look at it, I suppose. My mind doesn’t stop, so I usually can’t sleep long enough to dream.”

“You sleep when you’re with me,” he says softly.

The tips of his fingers skim over my side, tracing the dip at my waist. Goosebumps bubble over my arms. Warm lips press into my shoulder blade as his hand travels to my stomach. He teases the hair there, and his half-hard cock digs into my ass. “I do sleep better with you here—most things I do better with you here.”

“Like what?” his lips drag to the top of my shoulder before gently nibbling on the muscle.

Clearing some of the lust from my throat, I tell him, “Communicating. Laughing. Allowing myself some semblance of joy. You make everything feel…brighter.”

Nuzzling the nape of my neck, he kisses the skin there and cuddles closer. “You know what you do for me?” he breathes.

“What, sweetheart?"

“You give me sanctuary."

I’m overwhelmed by a sudden rush of emotion, so I nearly whimper when he moves away from me. Lifting my head to see where he’s going, I watch him bend and grab his cell phone from his discarded pants. His tattooed arm flexes as he crawls back to me while his eyes skim over my body. On his knees, I hear the click of the camera app, and then he’s leaning over to show me the picture.

He drew an entire scene that I now recognize as hisstreet style. With exaggerated body parts and big bobbleheads, the two men in the drawing are holding hands and looking up at an elaborate sky. In between two fluffy clouds is the same airplane he painted on my wall, only smaller and fit to scale.

“I want that to be real,” he whispers, tapping on the screen.

My eyes find him as I slowly roll onto my back. I reach up to cup his face, dragging my thumb along his jaw. “Me too,” I admit, the weight on my chest is almost too much to bear. “Me too, Gray.”

“Make it real for us. I know you can.”

His unrelenting belief in something that feels fictional is astonishing.

Of course, Icouldmake it real, but at what cost? There is so much unknown floating around our heads, and the last thing I need to focus on is my romantic relationship—mysecretone.

But how can I deny him?

How can I look him in those glacial blue eyes and tell him I won’t try? That I’m too afraid to even consider it.

Gray deserves a braver man. He deserves someone who can andwillgive him everything.

“Please,” he whispers.

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart. I’ll do my best.”

Dad: Please come home. We can fix this.

A cold sweat forms over every inch of me.

A whole day has passed, and I have been ignoringeverything, but now, this text solidifies what I know I have to do. My father has never sent me anything like that text before. Part of me is reluctant to believe it’ll be that easy. The other part, though, hopes that it is. He’ll have spent this last day formulating a story for the media, and he’s called everyone he needs to call, and he isn’t going to disown me.

There are a few emails from OAT, and several texts from Alex. I haven’t checked my personal email, too cowardly to see the swarm of requests for interviews or whatever else might be in there.

I look up from my spot on the couch to see where Gray is drawing in the bay window. He’s applied for all the local jobs, and all that’s left to do now is wait for responses.

He begged me last night to make this real for us, and I'm struggling with how to make that happen.

I study how his hand drifts over the sketchbook and how his forehead creases in concentration. He will wiggle his nose every so often, allowing the light to catch on the hoop dangling from hisseptum.As with every morning, his jaw is peppered with new growth, making him appear slightly older than the night before. Yet, there’s still this youthfulness about him.

He’s an old soul—wise for his years, and so strong. So fuckingcapable.All he needed was the right tool.

“See something you like?” he murmurs with a slight tip of his lips.

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