Tessa’s gone.
Not one of us stopped going from the moment Gray announced Tessa was missing, until Briggs finally forced everyone from the office a little after one in the morning.
Between researching this new club and looking into whether Tessa had been taken by her potential stalker, or if she’d just coincidentally skipped work for the first time, it’d been the fast-paced sort of chaos we’d always thrived in.
But even though Gray and I were, essentially, working together on the club case, we’d barely spoken.
He’d spent most of the time talking to his cousins, people around Amber, and law enforcement there. And I’d tried not to analyze and worry over his stress and guilt over a woman who’d jumped into his arms just that afternoon.
I hadn’t succeeded.
When Gray pulled up in front of my condo, I automatically unclicked the seatbelt and reached for the handle, my chest tight and stomach twisting as I went through the whiplash of the past twenty-four-ish hours.
When we left yesterday morning, I’d been worried things between Gray and I would only get worse. Worried thearguments would continue until we broke for good. By the time we made it back to Dallas, I’d been sure this drop off wouldn’t end up being adrop off. I’d thought the night would play out so differently. And now? I couldn’t even get my strained throat to form a goodbye.
But before I could push open the door, Gray turned off his truck and reached for his own door handle.
“What are you doing?” The automatic, snappish demand came out more of a strangled plea, and I wasn’t sure if I was thankful or not. The last thing I wanted was to argue with Gray when things, once again, felt so uncertain between us, but I also hated how vulnerable that question made me sound.
His gaze slowly shifted my way, searching me out in the glow of the interior truck lights for what felt like an eternity before his low, smooth voice filled the cab. “You’re out of my sight too long? I start looking for you. We part ways? I wonder what you’re doing. A mission goes wrong? I need to get to you. Do you understand? You have always consumed every part of me. So, I’m going in there because wherever you are is where I want to be.”
Hanging one arm over the steering wheel, he twisted so he was fully facing me. “Not to mention, your walls have been solidly in place all night, Peach, and I have an idea why.” One of his dark brows ticked up, but he didn’t wait for me to defend myself. “And after all we just got through, you’re insane if you think I’ddrop you offandleavewhen you’re in your head the way you are.” He reached back for the handle again, letting the door open just slightly as he continued. “So, even though we should, we don’t have to talk when we go in there. You can go to your room and shut the door, if that’s what you need. But now that we’re done keeping things from each other, whatIneed is for you to know there’s nowhere else I want to be.”
Gray slipped out of the truck before I even finished processing his words, and then I was scrambling after him and catching up to him at my door.
But as with the rest of the night, as soon as I got to his side, keys in hand, invisible fingers slowly curled around my throat until every word, every thought, was stifled by the memories of Tessa in Gray’s arms, and the look like he wasdyingover her disappearance.
Pressing my lips firmly together, I let us into my condo. Even though no one had ever set foot in here before Gray the other night,thisfelt different. The uncomfortable silence pressing around us only amplified that.
It was different because we’d laid our souls bare. It was different because of the kiss.
It was different because of Tessa.
I straightened my back as I tried forcing away the toxic thoughts, tried replacing them with everything Gray had just said in the truck, but a couple conversations and life-altering kisses weren’t going to magically erase decades of insecurities.
With a slight nod at Gray, I pushed from the spot and did exactly what he predicted I would—went to my room. I even shut the door, closing out the disappointment I could feel creeping from him and reaching out to me. Closing out the conversation weshouldhave, but I didn’t know how to let us have. Closing out all those vulnerabilities that made me feel so, so weak.
But throughout changing and getting ready for bed, every exhausted part of me begged to go back out there.
Like Gray, I’d always wanted to be wherever he was. And I knew shutting him out now would only push us back to where we’d been.
I couldn’t go back there.
So, with a steeling breath, I stepped out into the living room, and immediately regretted the decision to leave my room when I found myself in too-still darkness.
But as if sensing I was already planning my retreat, a hushed, amused voice drawled, “Cloud couch fits twelve.”
My eyes rolled, even as I started making my way there. “It does not.”
“Peach,” he mumbled doubtfully in the darkness. But the way his low voice wrapped around the ridiculous name had my cheeks heating and my pulse picking up speed.
I was suddenly, immensely grateful he couldn’t see me. Well, at least not enough to notice the traitorous reaction.
My steps faltered when I rounded the couch to see him shifting to a sitting position. What little I could make out from the small time my eyes had been given to adjust still let me see Gray wasn’t wearing a shirt.
A sight I’d been subjected to hundreds of times before. A sight I’d always had to force myself not to openly gaze at. A sight that felt so different after our confessions.
Yes. Suddenly,immenselygrateful he couldn’t see me well enough.
