Page 32 of Say I'm Yours
God, I sound pathetic.
“Because I want you to stay, baby. I want to have this every day, but when I open my eyes, you’ll be gone, and I’ll be without you again. I don’t want to be without you.”
Trent’s fingers make patterns on my back as he stays quiet.
I let the silence settle around us and debate opening my sleepy eyes. Minutes pass, and I move my head against his chest.
“Open your eyes, Gracie.” Trent commands as his hands stop.
“No,” I refuse. I’m going to stay in this freaking hallucination forever if I can.
The arm that’s around me pulls me up and he rolls me on my back.Oh, sexy time with dreamy Trent. This is good. I can work with this.His body is braced over me as his lips touch mine.
Jesus this feels so real.
“Grace.” The heat of his skin warms me. “Do you want me to kiss you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I plead.
He doesn’t hesitate. His mouth is against mine, and my legs and arms wrap around him. I press against him, eliminating any space between us. Passion explodes between us as his hard body covers mine, and my skin tingles where we touch. Still refusing to open my eyes, I kiss him as if I’ve never kissed him before.
I don’t know if it’s because of all that’s happening. The confusion and change that has me desperate for him, but I don’t care. Trent is mine for this minute. I’m going to take full advantage.
You don’t love a man for this long and not yearn for him.
His tongue moves against mine as his hands roam my body. He pulls back, and I whimper. “Open your eyes.”
“Please don’t make me. I don’t want to wake up.” I move my head, trying to find him again.
“You’re not dreamin’, sweetheart.”
My eyes flash open and panic floods me. I let out a loud scream as I yank the blanket over my body. This is real? No, no, no. He can’t be here. We broke up. I was dreaming, which was why . . .
Oh, God. My heart races and he cups my face.
“Grace.”
I clench my eyes tighter. “This is a dream! You can’t be here! This isn’t real!”
His thumb rubs my cheek. “You know it’s real.”
This is what I get for drinking my weight in wine. I note that I have a bra and underwear on, so that’s a good sign. The other thing I observe is he most definitely isn’t wearing a shirt or pants. Shit. I try to retrace any memories of last night. I know I was singing, dancing around, I’m pretty sure I texted Emily. No, I called her. I told her about the date or, more accurately, that there was no date, and how Trent was the one who came to get us.
She told me to tell Trent to get lost.
And then it hits me.
I freaking called him. My foolish, drunk ass called him.
I slowly open my eyes, and sure enough, his blue eyes and unshaven face are all I see.
“This never should’ve happened,” I tell him.
“Oh, but it did.” His eyes gleam.
“Did we? I mean, we didn’t, right? Because . . .”
He moves his hand lower and cups my neck. “You’d remember. Drunk or not, you’d remember.”
