Atlas is the one I’m most worried about telling. It was hard enough to tell him I wasn’t coming back. Now I’m moving across the country. “Not yet.”
“You better come to our New York games. I’m sure Ryker will want to take Felix to The Charm Box.”
“I’m not letting Felix step a toe in there.”
Oli gets up, stretching. “I’m going to head up to bed. I have a man to marry tomorrow.”
“I’m so happy for you.” This version of Oli looks so free. “You and Andre are incredible together.”
“I never thought I could love someone this much, man.” Oli smirks. “It borders on obsessive, and I don’t even care.” He sighs. “Need that man to breathe.”
Felix comes to mind, and yeah, I know he hasn’t told me yet that he loves me, and that’s okay. He can take all the time he needs. I just know this is end game for me.
I just hope that it’s end game for him too.
TWENTY SEVEN
Felix
Having a phone that isn’t constantly monitored has a lot of upsides. I don’t have to worry about text messages or what I look up. Grey never checks my phone. It took me a bit to remind myself that this is mine. It belongs to me, and I can do whatever I want with it.
And maybe what I’ve done with it is look up a lot of dirty things I want to do to Grey.
He’s opened up this entire part of me I never knew existed. With Steven, I was forced into a role I hated. I gave him what he wanted because if I did, he’d leave me alone.
Well, at least in the beginning.
Grey has given me power. Not power over him, because even though he submits to me, it’s a consensual balance that feels so right. He’s shown me the power in myself. He’s given me the space to figure out what I like and what I don’t while sharing parts of himself with me.
I hope he’s having fun with his friends. I want to give them time alone. I don’t want him to feel like I’m smotheringhim, and maybe if I left them all be, Atlas will soften toward me. I don’t want him to hate me. I know how important he is to Grey.
I’m on my stomach, writing in my journal, when the door opens and Grey steps through. Damn, he’s so handsome. Big and strong and so kind and warm. His blond hair is a little messy, and the tank top he’s wearing shows off his hard-earned muscles. We’ve spent a lot of time on the beach this week, and the evidence is showing in his deeper tan.
I’m so used to jeans, boxers, and flannel shirts, that this beachy tank top, flip-flop look is funny to me. It’s so not Grey, but it also suits him. Then my mind goes to what he asked earlier.
New York.
It’s across the country, and while I’m fine with moving anywhere he wants to go, I wonder how his friends and family will take it. They love him dearly and I get it, this man is amazing. “There he is. My favorite guy.” He walks over to me, kissing the top of my head. “I’m going to shower quickly, then I have a surprise.”
I perk up at that. “A surprise?”
He nods. “Put on a comfortable pair of pajamas, and grab your journal if you want it.” He goes into the bathroom and then opens the door back up. “Oh, and um, put lube in the tote bag too. And maybe a hand towel.” He grins wide before shutting the door.
Intrigued, I get up, slipping on a pair of comfortable sleep pants like he asked and grabbing the tote bag. I put lube and a towel inside it. I’ll leave my journal, though, because whatever Grey has planned will most likely take up my entire attention.
My hair is still damp from my own shower before he came in, and I try my best to dry it a bit. Then I throw on a T-shirt, pausing when I see myself in the mirror.
I look so different.
I remember when I first moved in, in February—my ribs with bruises, sunken eyes, way too thin since Steven only allowed me to eat dinner and maybe breakfast if he felt like it. I’ve gained weight. My eyes are brighter. I look so happy.
I feel like me.
Grey comes out, his chest damp from the shower and his towel slung low around his tapered waist. He takes it off, letting his soft cock hang between his thick thighs. Masculine. Everything about him is so masculine. I’ve never cared much about manscaping, and I have to say there’s something so hot about the hair on his body.
He dries himself off, grabbing a pair of sweats. “Come on.” Grey kisses me. “I have a surprise.”
We walk down the beach.It’s glowing with lights. It’s warm but not stifling as we head down to a different part of the resort. We’ve had to walk for a bit. I try to notice any abnormal limping, but he keeps trucking forward with minimal fuss. “How’s your knee?”
