“What about it?”
We didn’t stop moving as we carried out the conversation.
“I got my acceptance today. I fly to Malaysia in two weeks for the conference. Gray!!”
He’d stopped us dancing and wrapped both his arms around my waist, picking me up from the floor and spinning me around until I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“That’s my girl!”
I blushed at his words but didn’t correct him. He held me up off the floor, and I rested my hands on his broad shoulders.
“All that hard work paid off? How long are you there?” he asked, genuinely interested.
He slowly let me down so my feet touched the floor and my hands slid down to his chest.
“Conference is for four days, but I’m asking for a week. I’ve never been to Malaysia.”
“You’re going to take them by storm. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Gray leaned down and kissed me, and I forgot.
I forgot I had a boyfriend.
I forgot Gray was a God.
I forgot that this was trouble.
Instead, I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Every kiss I shared with Gray turned my insides molten and sparked something dangerous in my chest. It was only when we broke apart, breathing heavily, with his forehead against mine, did I think.
Gray opened his eyes, and they were entirely black.
“Quentin.” His voice was deep and husky, and I knew I’d made a mistake.
I pushed away from him gently and shook my head.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking pained.
“It’s fine. It just can’t happen again,” I stumbled, trying to straighten my thoughts. “I need to go and get things ready.”
Hurrying out of the room, I felt my heart sink at the silence that followed me out.
Why couldn’t I stay away from him? It wasn’t for lack of trying, but when I tried, it hurt so badly. When we didn’t talk, it was as if something was missing.
He irritated me. His general attitude towards life was annoying and yet he listened, and he was brutally honest, and I appreciated that.
But even though we were friends, and it dulled the ache, inside I craved more.
I had no right to be jealous when he kissed another woman, but it’d be easier if I didn’t have to see it happen. I wanted it to be me, but that wasn’t a good idea. It was too dangerous, and I didn’t want Gray to be punished, to be killed, because we couldn’t keep it in our trousers.
But the most worrying thing about the whole situation was that it was beginning to feel like more than sex.
It was starting to feel like something a lot more complicated.
“Do you need any help?”
She jumped, still not used to how quietly I moved. Too caught up in her own tangle of thoughts.
I leaned against her bedroom door, having just finished a shift atMurphy’s. It was late and Quentin stood by her bed, suitcase on top, open and partially filled.
