Page 60 of The Ex Puck Bunny
I meet him halfway, shifting on the couch.
His lips brush across mine.
My eyes flutter closed and my fingers graze his stubble, turning on my senses. His clean, soapy masculine scent fills my nose. One of his massive palms presses flat against my back and the other curls at the base of my neck.
He draws me into his warm embrace and I melt into him, into his lips.
The racing of his pulse invites mine to keep up as the kiss goes deeper, further, our hands covering the terrain of cotton and flannel. At some point, his fingers are in my hair and mine wrap around his frame, never wanting to let go.
Footfalls hit the stairs.
We split apart as if caught like two teenagers.
Grady’s hair is mussed and it’s adorable, if a man like him could be.
When the footsteps track away and toward the kitchen, then rummage through the pantry—Dad and those spicy peanuts—I drop my head to Grady’s shoulder. He smooths my hair. A breathy, contented sigh escapes.
My cheeks are still pinkfrom the kiss with Grady earlier.
I’m a bundle of butterflies.
It was wonderful.
There were sparks between us and inside, I feel alive again. Not that part of me died when I had Bunny, but that Trey took something with him when we broke up. But this is a bigger feeling than I had for Trey—or any other guy I’ve ever dated.
Our footing is more sure. Grady is grounded in a way that makes me certain he’s reliable. Loyal, if his story about what happened with the Generals is any indication. When I saw hisblood sugar crashing, I had a flash that if something bad happened to this man, that would be it for me.
This tells me there are feelings beneath the surface that I’ve hardly let myself realize. Perhaps pushing him away when he first got to town wasn’t so much a matter of self-preservation. Like deep down I knew if I let myself fall and he broke my heart, there would be no coming back. No recovery again.
Could Grady have been my number one all along and Trey was the runner-up?
Later that night, as Bunny dreams of unicorns, I’m all squishy and sleepy, but instead of putting my phone away, I browse social media.
I could help Grady with the daily video diary and give the Knights an online boost—not that they need it since the arena fills up regularly, at least according to my dad. But online, offering a broader reach.
I open the app and type a message to Grady.
Me: One second I hated you, and the next …
While I think about how to finish that sentence, he replies.
Grady: I blew your mind?
I suppress a chuckle.
Me: Don’t get too big a head.
Grady: I talked to your brother.
I physically startle.
Me: Already?
Grady: I still have my head, all my limbs. No missing fingers.
Me: You mean to say he was okay with us?
Grady: I got the stern warning I expected. He said there’s no comparing Trey and me. But that if I ever gave him a reason to put our names together in the same sentence again, I’d be wiped off the planet.
