Page 95 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
“I—”
I bury my face in her hair, inhale deeply. “No one,” I whisper. “No woman in my life has ever stood up for me like that.”
She jerks, then her arms wrap tightly around me in turn. “Gr-Gray.”
Tears in her voice.
The only time I haven’t enjoyed her speaking my name.
“Shh, Red,” I say. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She sucks in a breath. “I’m not upset”—a shake of her head—“okay, well, I am but it’s only because you should have that, Gray. And not just from Luna and company and the guys on the team, but from your parents, from the women you’ve loved!”
I draw back. “Baby?—”
“Don’t baby me,” she snaps. “My head gets all mushy and then you distract me and?—”
I kiss her.
Deep and long and with every bit of feeling that’s twining around in my heart.
“That’s worse,” she says, breaths coming in rapid gusts. “I can’t think when you do that.”
“Good.”
She pushes lightly at my chest, sucks in a breath. “Gray. I need you to know?—”
“I know.”
“But—”
“Red,” I say, capturing her hands and drawing her toward the couch, settling on top of it, drawing her into my lap. “Baby.”
She shudders.
I grin.
“I heard you.”
“I—”
“I heard you.”
And her words…fuck, it sounds cheesy as hell, but I can’t deny they healed some part of me. Faye—my sweet, my kind, my shy Faye threatened to go to the mat for me.
Threatened to fire someone for me.
Threatened—
Don’t be sorry. Just don’t ever fuck with my man again.
Her man.
Yeah, I fucking love the sound of that. Maybe even more than my name.
“Gray—”
I kiss her again, one hand on her waist, the other in her hair, knowing I can’t give her the words for exactly how much what she said, what she did means to me…but hoping that I can maybe tell her through my lips, my tongue, my teeth.
