She pulls me into her arms, wrapping the thin limbs around me with shocking strength, and I return it, squeezing her tight. Sloane layers herself right on top and suddenly we’re all bouncing around in the snow like a bunch of preteens at a concert.
“I let my brother have his moment, but I wantmine,” Sloane says, holding my hands and standing back to give me a once over. “I need to paint you in that damn tutu. Seriously. How are you even real? And those spins!? The Pas de Deux?” She’s still rambling excitedly when I glance over at Ben.
He looks at me, his expression careful and guarded. “That was crazy, Genny. Congratulations.” He must see the way my eyes soften at the old endearment, because he smiles, warm and reverent, and I feel so at peace. There’s no guilt or reservation or any of that. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
“Okay, so later—” Sloane continues, full speed ahead.
“Later?” Grant asks with a dubious look.
“You can’t just hog her to yourself now that youlearned your lessonand all that,” his sister whines, actually crossing her arms.
“Yeah, how dare you want to spend time with the woman you just reconciled with? How selfish,” Olivia adds, her sarcastic smirk spurring one of my own.
“You areneveron my side,” Sloane complains with a small smile on her face. “They havehoursbefore we can do anything together anyway. I have to go to the hospital and I won’t be out of there before eleven.”
My stomach twists at the fresh memory of Connie hooked up to too many wires to count, her deep sea eyes exact replicas of these two people who’ve become integral parts of me. I didn’t speak with her; I let Grant do that, for as long as he could anyway.
He’s there for Sloane, and I’m proud of him just for doing that.
“Is there anything you need?” he asks her pointedly, and she rolls her eyes—her tell. “Sloane. I can’t help you with things you don’t ask for.”
“It’s just…” she starts to say, pulling in a deep breath. “The treatment plan. It’s expensive. Let’s just talk about it later.”
I feel Grant tense beside me and I run a hand down his arm, willing him to unfurl whatever angst is building inside him.
“Yeah,” he says on an exhale, his smile forced, but I see the good will in his eyes. Know he’s trying. “You ready to go?”
“Home?” I ask him, maybe too eagerly, but the heated gleam in his eye tells me there’s no such thing.
I’ve lived in a dozen different houses, three different cities, but I’ve never had a home. Never had a place I knew I could call back to, that would receive me, want me, give me shelter when I needed it most. And I used to think it was because I didn’t have aplace, that it was because my life had been one in motion, one of upheaval. But it was never about the place. It’s always been about the people, and now, I have mine.
“Home.”
Epilogue
Gen
Four months later
We’re alone this morning—Ben and Liv are still asleep, Sloane’s not here yet, and Jean’s flight got cancelled last minute. Grant’s parents aren’t driving up until later this afternoon, and the privacy is more than welcome.
When we let itslipthat we wanted to come down here to hike over spring break, it quickly evolved into a whole thing: an itinerary, courtesy of Liv; group crafts in the evening per Sloane’s insistence; a drink menu carefully curated by Jean. I don’tnotlove the commitment we have to each other or the way we want to wring every moment for what it’s worth now that we found one another, but the stillness of this mountain peak, with the love of mylife, is actually all I really need right now.
Standing behind me, his arm is slung across my front, pulling me into him with quiet strength as we watch the unobstructed sunrise.
“I want to do this every morning,” I declare, feeling therumble of Grant’s laughter as I turn my head back toward him. He wears this amused smirk, the corner of his mouth barely ticking upward, but his eyes tell another story. The feral glint I spy there tells me he’s not even paying attention to the unearthly layers of peach and gold lighting the morning sky.
“That would require getting up before the crack of dawn…every morning.” That smirk grows into a grin, and I playfully swat at his chest, turning my back to the sunrise in favor of him. Like an illustrated backdrop, gorgeous fuchsia and lavender plumes blossom behind him, the path we took to see this almost camouflaged by the lively foliage.
“I had no issues getting out of bed before I metyou.”
He lets his hands dip, cradling me just under my ass, and I feel his fingers slip beneath the tight spandex of my shorts. “Is that a complaint, Dupont?” His touch trails upward until he’s skating over the sensitive flesh between my thighs. A whimper I can’t control escapes me as he sinks a finger inside me, unfazed by the fact that other well-meaning early risers could see the way he’s touching on this mountain.
“Not at all,” I strain to answer, my hand now on his shoulder as he dips to gain better access. “I just…was saying I could do it, if I wanted to.” His free arm scoops me up with ease and I wrap my legs around him on instinct, the itch too hard to ignore. He’s too hard to ignore.
“You can do anything you set your sights on.” He presses hot kisses to my neck, runs his nose along the sensitive skin there, and suddenly, we’re back under the canopy of the forest. “There’s nothing more attractive,” he says, pressing me up against a tree, “than the sight of you,” he continues between shallow breaths, “taking what you want.”
His gaze flits down to my lips and I swear I’ll never tire of the way he looks at me. Like he wants to devour me, like there isn’t enough time for him on this earth for him to have me the way he wants to. When he meets my gaze, I know he’s putting the ball in my court.
