Page 104 of Swim To Me

“I thought we were being honest with each other tonight, gorgeous.”

“We are.”

“So…”

Delilah’s inhale is audible before she speaks. “I was thinking you look very handsome and I’d very much like to kiss you. Your turn, Grey”

My grin widens, Delilah’s honesty and the sound of my name on her lips, sending my head into a little bit of a tailspin.

“I’d like to kiss you too.”

A huff of laughter escapes Delilah’s nose. “That’s nice to hear, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m thinking about how much I want you. By my side, in my life, in my bed. How much I want you to be mine. Every fucking gorgeous inch of you.”

Eye dipping downwards to watch her own movements for a split second, Delilah traces her delicate fingers, nails painted a pretty red colour, around the wide rim of her wineglass. I watch too, waiting for her reply, taking in every inch of her.

“Even the bad parts?”

“Even the bad parts, gorgeous. I’m not perfect either, I think we’ve gathered that.”

Delilah quietens, her mind processing what I’m saying. In the background, I hear a cheer from the men sitting at the bar, followed by a round of clinking glasses. Somebody on the rugby match, the one lighting up the small TV screen above the doorway to the kitchen, must have scored a goal.

“Grey?”

“Yeah?”

“I-I want you, too. Every part of yourself.”

Once I’ve paid the bill for our pub date, pretending I can’t hear Delilah’s protests of splitting the payment down the middle, I reach for her hand, pulling her out into the night beyond. Darker nights are drawing in, bringing with it a blanket of cold too, making gooseflesh break out over my calves.

Delilah laces her fingers through mine as we brave the gust of musty wind blowing through the closest underground station, hopping on a mostly empty carriage.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” she asks while we sway, wheels clicking along the rail.

I drape my arm around her shoulders, bringing her into my body. “Doyouwant me to come back to yours?”

She nods without hesitation.

“Then, yes, gorgeous.”

I let my brother Hudson know where I am as I walk through the door into Delilah’s apartment, following her into her space; knowing this is a big step, letting me back in after everything that has transpired.

“I’m going to go grab a shower. The remote is on the coffee table if you want to watch some TV.”

While Delilah pads off to the bathroom, I kick off my shoes, grab a book from her shelf with a dark, matte cover that looks intriguing and make myself comfortable on her sofa. The bunch of red roses I bought her, plus my letter, are both in the centre of her glass coffee table; the letter open and spread out as if it’s been read repeatedly.

I’m hooked on the romance book in my hands from chapter one, devouring each page with a flick of my wrist, so much so I don’t hear the shower stop running or the sound of Delilah coming up behind me.

“I was wrong about suggesting you borrow those books so you could learn, you know.”

I fold down the top corner to keep my place, turning my head to find Delilah, her skin pink and glowing from her shower, dressed in a pair of silk, long sleeved champagne coloured pyjamas.

“You were?”

“Yep.”

“And why is that?”

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