Page 25 of Make You Love Me

I quickly pull it open and see a lone envelope inside with ‘Pretty Girl’ written across it. I look back up to Greyson with wide eyes and he smiles down at me and nods his head to say go on.

My heart is beating so loudly I fear Greyson can hear it. I can’t believe he set all this up. How long has he been planning this? Calm down, Lottie. I take a deep breath and pull out the envelope. Why am I so damn nervous?Oh, I know why. Because he is trying to own my freakin’ heart with this little surprise.

With shaky hands, I rip it open and read.

Lottie,

I hope like hell you have enjoyed the last two weeks with me like I have with you or else I’m about to make a fool out of myself.

I've never been quick to get too close to anyone… just ask my friends and family. I keep my guard up at all times. But YOU, Lottie, are single-handedly bringing those walls crashing down. So much so, that the thought of not having you in my life scares the shit out of me. Don’t even get me started on how I feel about the thought of you seeing another guy.

I look forward to our days together, hanging out and getting to know every single inch of you. I want to know all your likes and dislikes, what turns you on, and even what pisses you off, so I'll be sure to do it every now and again because you're so damn cute when you’re mad : )

Lottie, before you, I had never felt this uncontrollable desire with anyone. No other person has ever consumed my every thought, even my dreams, the way you do. You have me so caught up in my head when I’m not with you. I honestly don’t fully comprehend everything I’m feeling when it comes to this thing we have.

I think I’m falling hard and fast and I don’t want it to stop.

Yours,

Greyson

I quickly reread the note once more, unable to form a response to how amazing his words make me feel. It’s as if he took every single one of my hopes and fears and wrote them as his own. How does he always know what I need to hear?

Unable to contain my emotions, I throw myself at Greyson. Jumping into his arms, I wrap my legs around him and kiss him deeply.

“All of it!” That’s all I'm able to get out in between our frantic kisses. I hope he understands what I mean. All of it—all of the emotions, needs, desires. I feel it all.

I'm frantic to touch his skin after such revelations. The fact this brute-of-a-man has poured his heart out has me ready to give him all of me. I’m all over him, our hands eager to touch every part of each other.

He breaks away abruptly, and I go to protest, but then hear a muffled conversation from people walking the trails nearby. We’re not hidden by any means, which is unfortunate because I would love to have Greyson on top of me right here, right now. The voices get louder, and I know our private moment is over.

He leans in, resting his forehead on mine. Slowly trying to calm our hunger for each other. “There’s nothing I want more than to continue what we’ve started here.” He adjusts his very large bulge in his shorts for emphasis. “But I want to take my time with you, pretty girl.”

I look at him for a few moments, memorizing the angles of his face and the look in his eyes. It’s something I never thought I’d be fortunate enough to have. I thought I would somehow be roped into a relationship of convenience or a business deal by the She-Devil. Never one for true love because that is without a doubt what I feel for him.

“Come on. Let’s eat so we can get back and I can satisfy those hungry eyes of yours,” he says, grabbing my hand and walking us to the blanket he’s laid out.

Snuggling myself up to him, holding on to his arm with one hand while my other hand hangs interlaced with his, I say, “I think you might be the most perfect man I’ve ever met.” I gaze up at his gorgeous face as we stand at the edge of the blanket.

I notice he flinches slightly at my words. Does he not realize how perfect he is?

“Babygirl, nobody’s perfect.”

“Okay, you might be right, but I think you’re perfect for me,” I say with a big smile. I want him to know just how much I feel for him.

Intoxicating smells come from the containers he’s opening and my mouth waters. He catches me staring and smiles.

“Mangiamo!” he says with an attempted Italian accent as we both sit.

I can't help but laugh.

“This smells so fricken good,” I say, reaching across the blanket for a dish.

“It’s from a small little spot my aunt loves. She takes Trent and me there often. The owners are an older couple who moved here from Brooklyn. They make the best fucking food I think I’ve ever tasted.”

“Mmm,” is all I'm able to get out, too busy devouring the shrimp scampi dish I have in my hands.

“This food reminds me so much of my favorite Italian spot in the city. I’ll have to take you there when you come visit.” I smile at him as he takes a big bite of his chicken parm.

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