Page 157 of Seeing Grayscale

“What do you see?” I ask.

“Strength isn’t measured by how much weight you can carry. Strength is courage. Strength is seeing what you want and going for it, no matter what anyone says. It’s persevering and putting one foot in front of the other. It’s never giving up. I want to fly a fucking airplane for a living.” His eyes are so green and bright. “I want to sell my house and have you paint a new mural onourhome. I want to take you out on a fucking date and kiss you hard. I want to tell you how I feel when I feel it. I want to be your sanctuary and your stepping stone. And most of all,” he stops to take my hand. The contact sends zings up my arm. “I want you to know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I will do whatever it takes to be the man you deserve.”

My lip quivers as my eyes well up with fresh tears. “You’re doing it."

His brows furrow as our bodies grow even closer. “Doing what, sweetheart?”

“Giving me my movie moment,” I croak, a loud sniffle follows. “I thought it was all bullshit and—”

“This is true love. You think this happens every day?” he says in his best Wesley voice, smiling, and I fold.

I fucking fold.

“That was terrible.”

“It was pretty cheesy.” Warm hands cup my cheeks, and I squeeze the canvas in my hand tighter. “I’msorry, Gray. For ever making you hurt, for scaring you and pushing you away. I was the biggest idiot in the world for not chasing after you.”

I nuzzle into his touch, needing it like I need to breathe. “You still have to prove it, though.”

“Ah.” He smiles, sweet and tender. “I think I have an idea.”

With endless eyes all around us, Hunter dips his head and brushes his lips over mine. It’s like an electric shock, restarting my heart, and when he deepens it, kissing me like that first time, I drop the canvas, not caring if it breaks. My hands dig into his sides, fisting the material of his coat. “I’m not hiding you anymore,” he whispers against my lips. “I want everyone to know who I love.”

I cling to him while we kiss for long seconds, his hands trembling and his back muscles flexing. When we separate, I steal one more before asking, “Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

“I’m scared,” he admits with a timid smile. “I…I’ve never done this before.”

“Kiss in public?”

He nods, swallows, then drops his hands to palm my waist. “It’s scary. I’m expecting pitchforks and rotten tomatoes.”

I glance around us, and other than one old lady blatantly staring with her mouth open, no one gives us a second look. “Afraid the media will see?”

He shakes his head. “No. Residual fear. But I’ll be okay. I want to do this with you. Kiss you.” He does, snatching up my lips fora quick, hot kiss. “Hold you and touch you.” Hands slide up my sides before squeezing the meat on my hips. “And I don’t want to keep it behind a closed door.”

I pull him into me, wrapping my arms tightly around his middle and pressing my cheek to his collarbone. When he returns the embrace, my eyes flutter closed, and I simply breathe in his scent. “I missed you,” I admit softly. “I thought you moved on and forgot me.”

“After two days?” he chuckles.

I pinch his back and he yelps. “Yes. You have a pattern.”

“Had,” he corrects before rubbing soothing strokes up and down my spine. “I missed you too, sweetheart. So fucking much. And I could never forget you.”

Pressing a kiss to his chest, I lean back to look into his eyes. “I’m staying with Abel and Marie.”

This takes him by surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. They’re…nice. I’m going to stay with them while I save up and work on getting more hours. I don’t think my boss trusts me yet.”

“You can stay with me. You can always stay with me.”

I had a feeling he would say that. “I know…”

“But?” he pries.

Toying with his coat, I bite my lip and admit, “I don’t want to rely on you like that. I don’t want to go with you and have…have that happen again.”

“It won’t.”

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