Page 84 of The Goat in the Bedroom
But tonight? Tonight she was mine, even if she didn't know it.
Tonight was everything.
ZERO FOX GIVEN
ARTEMIS
Iwoke up still wrapped in Gryff's arms, my face pressed against his chest, our legs tangled together like we'd been trying to merge into one person while we slept. For a moment, I let myself have this—the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart under my ear, the way his hand had found its way into my hair even in sleep.
Then reality crashed in.
Vegas. The honeymoon suite. What we'd done. What he'd done. What he'd made me feel.
That's how it should always be. Someone who sees you, really sees you.
His words from last night echoed in my head, and I had to fight the urge to burrow deeper into his chest and pretend the morning hadn't come.
“You awake?” His voice was rough with sleep, and I felt it rumble through his chest.
“Yeah.”
Neither of us moved. We lay there, both awake, both aware, neither willing to be the first to pull away. The weight of what had happened hung between us like a physical thing.
Finally, Gryff cleared his throat. “That was... Artie, I...” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and held me tighter for just a moment.
“The practice helped, right?”
Practice.
The word hit like cold water. Right. Practice. Trust exercises. Me learning to be comfortable with physical intimacy so I could date other people. That's all this was.
“Right,” I managed, finally pulling away. The loss of his warmth felt like losing a limb. “Super helpful practice.”
“Good. That's... good.”
We got ready in painful silence, both of us being way too careful not to accidentally touch, not to make eye contact for too long, not to acknowledge that something fundamental had shifted between us.
The car ride home was torture. Jules had claimed the front seat again, chattering about the wedding and Elvis and how Everett's face had looked when he saw Penelope. Flynn and Tempest kept exchanging worried looks from the front seat to where Tempest was all the way in the back again. And Gryff and I sat in the middle, each pressed to our own windows, the space between us feeling like the Grand Canyon or the Marina Trench.
Every time Jules said something about love or romance or feelings, Gryff tensed up. Every time I shifted, he seemed to stop breathing. We were so hyperaware of each other it was like the air between us was charged with painful electricity.
“You two are being weird,” Jules announced, turning around to study us. “Weirder than normal.”
“We're not being weird,” we said in unison, which was definitely weird.
“Right.” She narrowed her eyes. “Did something happen in Vegas?”
“No,” Gryff said too quickly.
“Nothing,” I agreed too forcefully.
“Because you know what they say about Vegas?—“
“Jules,” Flynn warned from the driver's seat.
“I'm just saying, if something hypothetically happened?—“
“Nothing happened,” Gryff said, and something about the firmness in his voice made my chest tight.
