Page List

Font Size:

Grey ignores him, waiting for me to answer.

My stomach cramps with my effort to contain my delight. “It.” Gasp. “Is.” Gasp. “Come on, Grey. Did you see yourself?”

I swear, the left corner of his lip twitches.

“TheyDirty Dancinged you.” A new round of laughter fills the air around us.

This time, I know his lip twitched.

“You—you looked soooo uncomfortable.”

One tooth separates his pressed lips, then two. I’ve almost got him.

“I kept expecting Ethan to put his hands on your shoulders and make a Greyson sandwich while ‘Hungry Eyes’ played overhead.”

His shoulders bounce, and he flashes two more teeth.

“No one puts Greyson in the corner though, Monroe. Not even for you.”

“Did you—” I look to Braxton on my right, but he’s doubled over laughing. “Did he just make a joke…about himself?”

When I glance back at Grey, he’s wearing a large, genuine smile that makes my chest ache.

And then…he laughs. It’s a sound that fills in all the cracks in my soul that not even superglue and denial could fix. His face relaxes into the happiness. He’s so carefree in this moment, I want to bottle it up and spray him with it the next time he’s carrying the world on his shoulders.

I want to see him like this forever.

A whistle blows on the field, but Grey’s attention is on me—on the happiness that leaked from my eyes while watching him, on the way my chest rises and falls too rapidly, on the smile I can’t seem to wipe from my face even as my cheeks heat under his intense perusal.

“Are you laughing at me, Monroe?” Each word he speaks is expelled on a step closer to me.

I nod, feeling the pressure on my cheeks and knowing I’m exerting muscles that have remained dormant for too long.

“Well, with you,” I say. “You obviously have a sense of humor about yourself.”

He steps into my space, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing our hips together in a way that’s not even close to a PG rating.

“I love your laugh.” He’s so quiet, so earnest when he says it that the rolling laughter catches in my chest. “You don’t do it enough.”

“We’ll, ah…just see you later.” Elle’s stage whisper is so ridiculous, I bury my face in Grey’s chest.

“I laugh,” I say when they’re out of earshot.

He shakes his head, never breaking eye contact. “Not enough.”

My shoulders droop. “What are you doing out here, Patch?”

Soft lips press against my forehead. “I studied the list of challenges at the fair, made a plan of action, and then implemented steps to learn what I didn’t know.”

“But…why? Why go to all this trouble?” I’m scared of his answer, and I want it more desperately than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time.

“It’s simple, Sav. You’re mine, and I’m yours. If you think I’ll allow anyone else to win, even momentarily, what’s mine, then you’re out of your goddamn mind. Say it.”

“Say what?” Tension finds its home between my shoulder blades.

“That you’re mine.”

The eye roll is automatic. “I’m yours…for now. Nothing lasts forever, Grey, you know that.”