Page 33 of Never Always
“Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re sort of charming when you’re not being rude.”
He lays a palm on his chest. “Me? Charming? Oh, you thought I meant you? That you were worth keeping? No.” He shakes his head, smarmy smile on his lips. “I meant, this recipe is worth keeping. It’s a fucking winner. Taste this sauce.” He extends his arm with a wooden cooking spoon at my face.
Crumpling a napkin sitting in front of me, I throw it at his face and then taste his stupid, delicious sauce. He ducks and it misses him. “Unlike its maker, it’s good,” I admit.
“I’m better than good. Just you wait. Eat.” Grange sets the plates on the table he’s set in the eat-in kitchen. I settle in and begin eating. This feels so natural, like it’s been a part of my life for a long time. I agonized about a date with Grey. This, with Grange, isn’t like that at all.
“This is my first date at a man’s house. Ever,” I say, wiping my mouth.
Grange swallows loudly. “There’s some pressure now, isn’t there?”
Twirling my fork, I pause before bringing the noodles to my mouth. “Now you feel pressure? Because I haven’t been on a house date? Not because you promised to give me the best sex of my life? That’s pretty rich, my friend.”
He chuckles. “I’ve had a lot of practice with one and not so much the other one.”
“That’s gross, Grange.” I take the bite and slurp a piece of linguine hanging from my lips.
He turns. “What? It’s true. I guess if I think about it, I haven’t ever had a woman over for a date at my house either. I was with Sierra so long that she doesn’t count.”
I hate how he says her name, so I don’t say anything more on the subject. We continue eating, him joking about sex, and me trying to avoid the topic at all costs. Don’t get me wrong, it’s on my mind just as much, but I have to separate things. This is dinner portion of the date. Compartmentalize everything. It’s a scare tactic for my anxiety in situations I’m not versed in. Dishes done and kitchen cleaned, box checked. He grabs my bag from next to the kitchen island and leads me back to the bedroom. We have to pass back through the living room. There’s a photo sitting on a side table of a little boy and a beautiful woman. She’s blonde, just like Corrick. His mother. I pause to look more closely, leaning over. There’s a sunny glow lighting the photo and his mom resembles an angel. Swallowing hard, I think it’s probably why he has it framed. Why it’s displayed. Grange has the same smile, but his blue eyes were clearer, less haunted. This was before his life changed completely forever. My heart squeezes and a lump forms in my throat. What would he be like if he’d grown up with his mother, if the accident never happened?
“She was so beautiful, Grange,” I say.
He turns and smiles warmly at me. “I know. I got it from her.”
I shake my head. “Can you be serious?”
The smile slips from his face. “The alternative is sadness, and trust me, our night would end in a different place if you’re asking me to talk about my mom.”
“That’s okay,” I whisper. “If you want to talk, we can talk.”
An emotion I can’t describe passes over his features. His gaze flicks from my sweater up to my face. “Actually, Fire, I think I’d like to seize the moment.”
Trailing behind, I step into his bedroom. Grange flicks on a lamp, and I’m relieved to see this room lacks a woman’s touch.
I’m frozen to the spot, in the doorway, when his grin turns feral. “Come in. I don’t bite.” He takes his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Hard.”
Chapter Eleven
Tennyson
THERE ALWAYS ISa defining moment in life. If you choose a person or make some kind of commitment, your life will set off in one direction. Once you make a decision, you can’t look back, or wonder what might have been if you’d selected a different option or person. That’s not your life. It could have been your life, but now it’s simply a possible destination haunting your future—a paralyzing what-if. This night, with Grange, is a defining moment for me. It’s my choice. He is my choice.
It’s easy to recognize the signs of falling for someone if you’re looking for them. Distractibility. Heart racing at the sight of them. The desire to protect. The need to know everything about them so you know what makes them tick. The ability to put up with their bad side and recognize maybe it’s not bad as much as it is an endearing personality trait. I’m an intellectual woman, so even though I’ve never been in love before, I know whatever is happening between us is more than your average crush. It feels predetermined. Something neither of us have any control over. Merely thinking that makes me crazy because it’s illogical. I can’t statistically prove it. I just feel it.
Grange sets my bag down on the bed and then crouches in front of his nightstand, rustling through a drawer. “I’m not going to give you time to overthink this. Like you probably are right now.”
Yep. Box the rest of the night, Tennyson. We’re entering a new stage. One that I’m out of my element in, but can’t wait for none the less.
Ambling forward, I sit on the end of his king-size bed. There’s a blue comforter pulled up to the pillows, and it smells like it’s been freshly laundered. “Okay,” I mumble, resisting the urge to mess with my ear. “Not sure what that means.” I kick off my boots because it feels like that’s what needs to happen next.
He tosses three condoms onto the bed next to me. “I’ll be specific.” Grange rounds the bed to face me.Three condoms,I think, adrenaline hitting. I scoot back and he spreads my knees with his legs. “From the second I saw you come, I’ve dreamed about doing it again, about watching your face when my cock is buried inside you.” His hands rest lightly on my shoulders and my breathing is so heavy they’re rising up and down with each inhale and exhale. The massive presence of his body overtakes my senses and containing my inherent response is impossible.
Reaching out to grab his waist, my gaze captures his. “I want that.”
“Deal,” he growls, lifting his shirt over his head using the back collar. When his chest is exposed and his rippling abs are directly in my face, I lean forward, an automatic response and press my lips against his warm skin. He smells so good as I inhale deeply. His body bends in, eager for my touch. “Lay down,” Grange commands. “Let’s get you out of those uncomfortable clothes.” Half of his face picks up in a smirk. “So I can seize all the things.”
Corrick’s words are confident, but there’s a shake in his hands that gives away other emotions, ones that he’s trying desperately to hide. “When is the last time you seized things with a woman, Grange?” I ask while shifting my weight nervously. “You brazen sex god, you.”
