A snort slips out of me before I can stop it. Grayson’s head whips my way, and our eyes meet. Something passes between us—quick, electric.
Like a door opening another crack.
Heat blooms low in my stomach. I look away quickly, already feeling the blush spreading up my neck into my face.
Ten minutes later, Weston gets up to refill the popcorn. Asher follows him under the guise of “supervising.” Kai disappears down the hall to his room like he’s giving us space on purpose.
And suddenly?—
It’s just me and Grayson. The space between us feels louder than the movie. I shift, adjusting the blanket like it’s the blanket’s fault that I’m suddenly aware of my own breathing.
Grayson glances down, then back up. “Cold?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He slides to the middle of the couch, invading my personal space, but all I can seem to think about is the fact that I want him closer.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
It’s not a demand.
It’s an offering.
I nod. “Yeah. I’m good, Gray.”
A small grin starts playing on his lips. “Gray, huh?”
“Mhmm,” I say, trying hard to keep my own grin from slipping.
We sit in silence, shoulders not touching, but close enough that I can feel his warmth. It’s excruciating, yet perfect. After a few minutes, Grayson adjusts his position. Not closer.
Just…different.
His forearm rests along the back of the couch now, as if he’s asking permission. My breath catches. I don’t move, and neither does he.
The movie keeps playing, my heart pounding loud enough that I’m sure Grayson can hear it. Finally, I lean toward him, just a fraction, but enough that my shoulder brushes his arm.The contact is feather-light, but Grayson stills completely, like he feels the same zing through his skin as I do.
I wait.
He doesn’t pull away. Instead, slowly, his arm lowers until it rests lightly behind my shoulders. Not pulling me in closer, not trapping me.
Just there.
My body reacts instantly. Heat floods my chest. My breath stutters. I don’t move away. I let myself exist in it. His thumb presses once, gentle and grounding, against my sleeve. My eyes burn. Because no one has ever touched me like this. Like I’m precious without being fragile.
I tilt my head and rest it against his shoulder. The world narrows. The movie fades to background noise, and I barely register the guys coming back, Asher taking his spot back in the chair, while Weston grabs some blankets and lies on the floor.
Grayson exhales like he’s been holding his breath. We don’t speak. We don’t need to.
This is romance.
Not fireworks. Not declarations.
Just the quiet choice to stay.
“Hey, Harlow?” Grayson says quietly a few minutes later.
I turn to look at him, “Yeah?”
