Out of Focus (Chosen Paths #2) (15 page)

Her books, for example. Ashley had been an avid reader, and her collection of books rivals my own. I thumbed through them, memorizing various titles I’ve yet to read, while Grady explained that being four years older than him, she was the one who often tucked him in when they were kids. And she did so reading him a story. As they became older, he rarely saw her without a book in her hands, so he brought some to his apartment to ensure their safety when his family cleaned out her bedroom.

He also snagged some of her favorite clothes just to have some things of her with him. The shirt handed over so easily to me was one she wore all the time, and I expressed to him the absolute honor of wearing it, which garnered me a gorgeous smile and a kiss on the forehead.

Yet, although the moment was beautiful, voices found their way to the forefront of my mind, tarnishing it with their shouted reminders.

No one will even remember you when you die, because you mean nothing.

Their slithers and whispers lingered until another glass of wine was finally able to dull them.

Later in the evening, we also stumbled upon a drawer full of games they played when they were young. Monopoly, Yatzee, and Uno were among the many others including, of course, Twister. Three glasses in, I took him up on the challenge, but as I eye the mat below me with my muscles straining, I’m second-guessing the childlike eagerness with which I accepted. Each move we make reminds me that I’m definitely not a kid anymore.

After the torture of Krav Maga and now this, I’m sure I’ll be hella sore tomorrow, but it’s totally worth it to be crowned champion and wipe that arrogant smile off Grady’s face.

I grin back, strategically planning my next move. It’s my turn to call the color, his to call the body part, and we’ve made our way to the center of the mat. And as I plan, the weight of the decision I must make hits me full force. I can choose to go with green, which will most likely move us laterally, or I can call yellow, potentially moving us closer to each other.

Slide laterally, basically going nowhere, or take a chance by moving forward.

Suddenly this game of Twister has turned into a metaphorical game of life.

Grady patiently awaits my choice. I have no doubt his challenge was premeditated, knowing I would eventually come to making this very decision. But as usual with Grady, he doesn’t force my hand. He puts me in the position to choose the next move.

My grin falls, significance weighing my expression. I dip my head, signaling to Grady the decision has been made.

“Yellow,” I whisper softly just as Grady reveals his choice. “Hand.”

Slowly, I press my weight onto the ball of my foot, propelling me forward as Grady does the same. Our arms cross when our hands land in neighboring yellow circles, and the warmth of Grady’s body encompasses me as we come together. My cheek brushes against his, the slight stubble on his skin spawning an eruption of goosebumps along my arms. My throat tightens and I take in a deep breath of air, allowing the freshness of Grady’s scent to wash over me as I approach his neck. My forehead settles into the crook, so close, I feel when he turns his head toward my throat. My skin ignites where Grady’s warm lips part along the hollow, heat coursing my entire body upon their touch.

They trail slowly up the column of my neck, forcing me to swallow when the tip of his tongue glides gently along my skin. I peel my head out of the safety of Grady’s neck to arch my own, allowing him more access. His teeth nip lightly as he approaches the line of my jaw, and I whimper at the sensation. A low growl sounds next to my ear, before his lips continue their path along my cheek until they find their destination, landing at the corner of my mouth. They seal together, pressing against my skin a tender kiss, then his warmth disappears as he pulls away.

As soon as I open my eyes, darkened ones return my stare, heated as they fall to my mouth. I dart my tongue along my bottom lip, and Grady draws in a deep breath before lifting his gaze. My eyes dip to his soft lips, reddened and slightly swollen, and I inch my face closer to his, wanting nothing more than to feel the heat of them on my mouth. I force another swallow, then bring my stare to meet his.

Our eyes remain locked, Grady’s boring into mine, silently requesting permission to close the distance. I revel in his warm breaths as they strike before his lips finally find mine. Every cell in my body ignites, pulsating as they spark to life within me. Our mouths align perfectly, fusing together, and an involuntary moan escapes me when his velvet soft tongue parts my lips. I open for him completely in this moment, accepting the offered caresses each deep sweep of his tongue provides.

I surrender all guilt, all fear, all anger, and melt into his kiss, allowing an all-encompassing sense of peace to warm my insides. It rushes through me, soothing the fragmented pieces of my soul. The heat of his slick mouth against mine, the sound of my whimpers and moans as I succumb, the smell of his skin pressed against mine . . . everything about this moment etches itself into my brain, because for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel
alive
.

The ever-present cold and darkness no longer loom. They’re flooded, blanketed by warmth as it surges through my body, and with it launches the realization that this is the first time I’ve ever been kissed.

Sure,
I’ve
kissed a lot of boys, or men . . . but my kisses have always been hard, angry, frenzied—impatient to find my release and always within my control. Nothing like this. Grady is kissing
me
, and I’m allowing him to do so, relinquishing control with each pass of his tongue along mine.

Grady lifts his hands off the mat, sliding his knees securely underneath him for balance as he gently frames my face. The tenderness of his hold stokes the fire within me, sending another wave of heat through my heart. I choke back the emotion the sensation brings, and focus on the feel of his mouth against mine. Seconds pass, then Grady languidly softens the kiss, brushing his lips lightly over mine before relaxing back. His eyes watch me intensely, and as they do, I find solace and security. A small smile tugs at my lips at the innocence of this moment, of this kiss that has roused the dormant, youthful part of me that has been numb for so long.

Did it ever really exist?

His mouth curls upward, and I slowly slide my stare down to the mat before once again meeting his eyes. My grin widens as I softly proclaim, “I win.”

Grady’s gaze falls to where all my extremities remain in the appropriate circles. He chuckles to himself while his teeth find the suppleness of his bottom lip. He shakes his head, bringing those watchful eyes back to mine. Wide grin beaming on his face, he leans in and whispers, “Sweetheart, this victory is all mine.”

He brings my forehead to his lips, then releases me to stand. “Time for bed, sleepyhead.”

It’s only then that I realize I’m yawning. Three glasses of wine, emotionally drained and physically tapped out, I have to admit I’m a very sleepy girl. I nod and take his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. Hands joined, silence surrounds us as we head down the hallway to the guest room.

As soon as we enter and the light is on, my awakened inner child giggles and claps for joy, and in a very
non-Cassie
manner, I happily launch myself onto the bed. Laughing as I sink into the enveloping softness, true joy illuminates from within, and I smile widely at Grady as he approaches the side of the bed. He grins back knowingly, but says nothing as he pulls the bedding down for me to slide underneath.

I tug the comforter under my chin and settle into the sheets. Grady takes a seat on the edge, lifting his hand to brush the hair away from my face. Once satisfied, he places his palm against my cheek and strokes my skin lightly with his thumb, forcing my sleepy eyes to drift shut. The movement is so soothing my body begins to float into sleep, but is awakened when I feel him lean over me. Tenderly, he kisses my temple then inhales deeply with his lips lingering on my skin. I grin from under him, and his warmth disappears as he rises.

“Sleep with me?” I request, my voice rough with sleep.

I feel his eyes on me, deliberating. I also feel my heart begin to hammer with my request. I’m taking a leap, allowing myself to plummet into the sense of security that Grady’s presence provides.

Where the hell is the woman formerly known as Cassie Cooper?

Because this invitation is so
not
me.

I haven’t allowed anyone in my bed for as long as I choose to remember. With every single one of my sexual partners, I’ve never stayed the night, and they’ve never been invited to my apartment. The idea of someone lying next to me, of leaving myself unprotected and vulnerable while sleeping, usually suffocates me to the point that I leave approximately five seconds after we’ve both come.

But as I relive the evening with Grady, the tenderness with which he handled me—the strength and resolve openly displayed tonight—I find I
want
to share my bed with him. I want him near me, knowing deep down I will feel nothing but protected when I sleep. Not afraid but safe. Not alone but
together
.

His footsteps recede toward the door, stopping just short to turn off the light. Soon after, the bed dips with his weight and the sheets rustle as he settles in. I open my eyes and turn to face him, grinning because my inner child seems to have a mad case of the giggles. He angles his mouth into a crooked smile then extends his arm in my direction, opening his body to me. Slowly, I sneak over to his side, lay my head on his chest, and exhale deeply when his arm curls around my shoulders.

“Fucking phenomenal,” Grady’s voice rumbles against my ear, and my cheek presses into his shirt with my smile.

I say nothing. I remain silent while listening to his steady heartbeat and his deep breaths as they begin to lull me to sleep.

My mind replays Grady’s vow to never let me fall and I know, as I remain held safely in his arms,
that
promise is one he might not be able to keep . . .

Because I could definitely be in danger of falling hard for Grady Bennett.

SUNLIGHT HITS MY EYELIDS
as I gradually wake, feeling fully rested for the first time in . . . well, forever. Exhaustion no longer claims me as I peel my eyes open, blinking them several times to get them to focus. I scan the room, memories from the previous night running their course and highlighting the obvious fact that I fell asleep as Grady held me, and it was bliss.

I turn to find him, but he’s no longer beside me. Once I realize I’m safe from scrutiny, I roll over, centering my face into the pillow, and grin widely into its confines. My heart swells, threatening to explode with each joy-filled beat.

I feel youthful, young and alive, brimming with excitement.

I have indeed become a giddy schoolgirl.

And I kind of like it.

Rolling onto my back, I stretch to full capacity, wiggling my toes beneath the sheets as my fingers touch the wooden headboard. Once functional, I lift the covers and make a safe escape to the bathroom across the hall. Upon entering, another smile breaks across my face as I spy a brand new toothbrush and toothpaste. Lying on the counter right next to them is a hand-written note on a paper towel.

Morning beautiful.

Made a run to the store. Hope these work for you. Bought some food while there. Hoping to keep you just a while longer to continue getting better acquainted. Join me for breakfast?

My heart flutters and I shake my head, the fact that someone like him exists completely boggling my mind.

After taking care of my morning routine, I leave the bathroom and head down the hall. The smell of bacon and eggs carries me forward and I feel like one of those cartoon characters, floating after the scent of deliciousness. Again.

Exactly like before, I round the corner and just as I open my mouth to wish Grady a good morning, I stop dead in my tracks. All the air whooshes from my lungs, and I stand there, gawking.

Because in the kitchen is a shirtless Grady Bennett. In. All. His. Glory.