Like right now.
The thing is, at no point in my relationship with Steven did I ever feel like this. Looking into Grey’s eyes now there is so much light and love in them, and I just hope that light and love extends to me. I can’t see him being a monster. I can’t see him hurting me or anyone else for that matter. Not with his past. Not with how he treats me or his family, who love him dearly.
I admit Steven was never this kind to me. Grey may think he’s a quiet, simple man, but his love for the people around him is loud.
What Steven did was manipulate me into thinking he was taking care of me, but taking care of someone and then making them feel horrible about it is not love. If you love someone, you don’t hold it over their head as leverage. Steven found a sixteen-year-old kid who craved attention and wielded it to his advantage.
“What are you thinking?” he whispers.
My palms run down his chest, and if I could stay here in his arms forever, I would. I would stay just like this and soak in his warmth, because that’s what Grey is to me. Warmth. Warmth and light and maybe love. “About how lucky I am.”
He blinks, surprised by my admission, and my chest swells with so much feeling it becomes uncomfortable.
“Oh yeah?”
My hands land on either side of his neck, my thumb smoothing along his jaw. So lucky. Damn he’s handsome. Handsome, kind, and smells so damn good.
“I’d really like to show you how luckyIam.” The deep rasp of his voice goes right to my dick. He leans in, his nose ghosting over my cheek before he presses a kiss to my mouth.Greedy, I move a little, taking what I want. A tiny moan slips from his lips.
“Hey.” We both flinch, looking behind us, finding Oli and Andre in the doorway. “Sorry, we were in Atlas’s room. Our bad.” Oli grins, pumping his eyebrows, not looking sorry one bit. When Oli booked the hotel, he put Grey and Atlas in adjoining rooms, and it looks like we share a balcony.
Yay.
I realize Grey’s arms are still wrapped around me as Atlas steps onto the balcony rolling his eyes. “Just so everyone here is on the same page, I hate you all!”
“What?! Ryker had to sit with someone.”
“Disrespectfully, Oli. Go fuck yourself,” Atlas grumbles. “Try having a nearly six-foot-five hockey player trying to crawl inside your crevices for nearly seven hours.”
“We’ve tried. Lots of chaffing.” Oli slaps Andre’s stomach playfully.
Oli loops his arm around Atlas’s neck, ruffling his hair, but Atlas slaps his hands away, shoving out of his hold. “Not so funny when it’s you, huh?” Atlas punches his arm. “Ow! Dick.”
“Where is Ryker anyway?” Andre asks.
“Went to his room. He was feeling sick from the flight.” Atlas shrugs. “What’s going on?” He asks Oli, but his eyes slide to us again. Hurt flashes briefly, and I think I’m the only one who notices.
“We’re going to go down to dinner. I wanted to see if you and Grey want to join me. I want us to have dinner, just us three.” I see Grey’s gaze slide to me. What he doesn’t notice is Atlas’s eye roll.
“Felix, you can come with me.” Andre smiles. “Vee and I are going dancing.”
“Oh, I don’t dance,” I protest.
“Believe me, you can’t be worse than Oli.” Oli slaps hisass. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Vanessa will love you to death.” Andre loops his arm through mine, pulling me away from Grey. “We’re going to have a great time. I promise to bring him back in one piece.” Andre drags me away, only stopping to give Oli a kiss. “Don’t get too drunk. I have plans for you later.”
“Ugh, I can’t take this.” Atlas storms back into his room, sliding his door shut, and Oli chuckles, giving Andre another kiss.
Andre grins near his lips. “Have fun with the brat.”
I think. . . I think I love dancing.
“Who did you come with?” Vanessa yells over the music, grinding against me. There’s so much life in her eyes. She’s on her third margarita and her deep brown skin shimmers with sweat under the lights on the dance floor. There are only three walls, leaving one completely open with a view of the beach. It’s a little packed and very hot here, but I’m having fun. A lot of fun.
I tried sitting at a table when we first arrived, but Vanessa wasn’t having any of it when I told her I don’t know how to dance. Andre’s in front of her now, and she’s smushed between us like a really pretty sandwich. Her vanilla perfume is light and smells good, and her black curls are loose voluminous ringlets that feel soft whenever they brush against my face. “He’s Grey’s boyfriend,” Andre yells over the music.
“Which one’s Grey?” she yells.
“The brooding one with the blond hair and beard.”
