Page 116 of Swim To Me

The off the shoulder cream coloured dress I’d picked up earlier this week – to match Grey’s suit – from a little boutique tucked away within the depths of Notting Hill, waits, already steamed to get rid of any wrinkles, on my bed. A matching pair of heels beneath it.

Grey isn’t a minute late, whisking me away to his private car still idling on the curb side. He gently presses his lips to mine in the backseat, with a whispered, “You look beautiful, Delilah.”

“Thank you.” I wipe the slightly red tinge now coating his lips and glance down at the suit clinging to every inch of his toned body. “You look very handsome, yourself.”

As the car slowly inches through the busy Friday evening London traffic, I’m reminded of our first car ride together back to my apartment after our accidental meeting in the speakeasy bar. I don’t know if I believe in fate myself, but…

“Do you believe in fate?” The question is up and out of my lips before I can even second guess myself.

“Yep.” Grey squeezes my hand once. “I do. You?”

“I didn’t use to…”

Leaving my words to hang in the air above us, I return my gaze to the window and the outline of the darkened skylinepassing us by. The taxi ride the night I went to the speakeasy with Aura, my stomach had been full of butterflies; thinking about what it meant to be asking Grey back to mine, what that would mean for two strangers, two separate humans with separate lives, who for one night would spend time together, using each other’s bodies.

But one night had quickly turned to two – Grey somehow, even back then, changing my stubborn, almost regimental, way of thinking.

I hadn’t known… well, hardly anything about Grey, before we spent two nights together. I’d known he came from a strong family unit, that much was obvious after my first swimming lesson when he’d begun talking to distract me from the overwhelming panic, but that was pretty much it. I didn’t know what made him tick, his goals in life, his aspirations, the chapters of his life which formed him into the man I would come to love.

I hadn’t known any of that, and yet, there was still something that attracted me to him. At first, I’d rather stupidly thought it was just sexual attraction, an urge I needed to scratch and be done with. I was too afraid then, when Grey continued to bury himself under my skin way after we’d had sex, to admit what it was between us. What I felt deep down in my gut.

“I love you,” I say aloud, closing my eyes at the feel of Grey’s lips brushing the top of my head and his spoken devotion in return which wraps around my heart, making a home for itself there.

The steps outside of the chosen venue are already bustling when we pull up, our driver politely asking us where we’d like him to drop us off.

“Just anywhere near the curb is fine, mate, thank you,” Grey directs, climbing out first and then sticking his hand back inside the car to reach me.

Cool September air kisses the bare skin of my legs and neck, causing goosebumps to prickle in its wake, but I ignore it in favour of smoothing down any lines in the satin fabric of my dress sitting across my hips.

“Do I look okay?” I peer at Grey, the height on my thin stilettos giving me an added boost advantage, while fiddling with the Bardot neckline of my dress, making sure it sits as straight as possible across my shoulders.

Grey squeezes my hips, thumbs running back and forth over the skin-tight material covering my hipbones. “You look more than okay, gorgeous. You’re a fucking knockout.”

I nod, attempting to soak up some of Grey’s confidence and make it my own.

“And my lipstick?” I roll my tongue over my teeth, the sucking sound of my own saliva grating through my ears. “It’s not all over my teeth, smudged, is it?”

“No.” Grey shakes his head, eyes firmly fixated on my lips. Although, I don’t really get the impression Grey is looking at my lips to check my potentially smudged lipstick.

I take the first concrete step up the entrance swarming with attendees and fans of the author. “Are you ready, then?”

“Yeah.” He pats the curve of my arse. “Go get ’em, gorgeous.”

I’m second guessing not bringing a coat with me as we join the line to be allowed entry, but thankfully it’s moving quickly and Grey presses his front to my back, giving me a share of his body heat.

“Good evening,” chirps the well-dressed woman behind the podium who’s in charge of letting people into the celebratory publishing event tonight. “Can I take your names?”

“Delilah Clark and Grey Millen.”

She glances down at the device in front of her, long nails tapping on the pixilated screen to sign us in once she’s found my name.

“Found you! Okay, Miss Clark, Mr Millen, drinks are complimentary at the bar, there’s a coat room if you’d like to check any items in there and we hope you have a lovely evening.”

“Thank you very much,” I say, smiling at the way Grey grips my waist to guide me into the golden foyer and away from the bright flashes of the outside photographers.

Women dressed in cocktail dresses and men in their suits stand around, chatting politely, some already clutching a glass of bubbling champagne in their hand. Bypassing the coat room and its clerk, Grey leads me straight over to the bar, ordering a bottle of beer for himself and my favourite strawberry flavoured cocktail for me.

“Delilah! It’s so lovely to see you!” I turn in time just to see a pair of arms throw themselves around neck, the distinct jingle jangle of stacked bracelets rattling against each other echoing in my ear drum.

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