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He leans into my touch like he's been waiting for it. For me.

My thumb brushes his cheek. His eyes open.

“Say it again.”

His brow furrows.

“My name.”

“Agatha.”

Heat rolls through me.

“Again.”

Something changes in his expression.

“My Sweet Agatha.”

There.

That's me.

Not Professor Daniels.

Not Aggie.

Not freaking Maggie May.

Agatha.

His Agatha.

I smile. His gaze drops to my mouth.

“You like that.”

“I like the way you say it.”

A rough sound comes from deep in his chest. There it is again. That sound.

Familiar.

Wild.

My pulse jumps.

“Are you growling at me, Grimm Palermo?”

“Would that bother you?”

I should say yes. Instead, I run my fingers into his hair.

“Depends.”

“On?”

“What happens after the growling.”