Fly Bye

The Subaru’s engine clicks off. I stare at my parents’ home. Climbing out of the car sounds like a lot of effort, so I just sit here and look at the house where I grew up.

When did I grow up? I feel like a great-aunt at a family reunion. I blinked, and I’m twenty-five. In some ways, I’m further than I thought I might be. In others, I’m way behind.

I sigh and climb out of the car because I know Skye will be meowing. Taking care of her for the past few days has disabused me of any notion about getting a pet of my own. I work too much to spend time with a living animal that expects an owner who will do more than sleep.

“Evie!”

I pause halfway up the driveway and glance over to see Juliet Phillips crossing the thin strip of grass that separates my parents’ property from the mansion next door.

“Hi, Juliet.” I give her a tired smile.

“I was worried I’d missed you! Will you come over for dinner tonight? I made way too much.”

I contemplate the convenient offer. “Did my mom put you up to this? Tell you I can’t cook?”

Juliet laughs. “No. I feel bad you have to stay here because of my silly allergies. You just started your own life here. The least I can do is feed you a home-cooked meal. Take a night off from reheating.” She winks. “Henry tells me things have been hectic at the hospital.”

“They have been,” I agree.

“So… is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes.” I wasn’t exactly looking forward to heating up another frozen pizza.

“Great! Come on over whenever you’re ready.” Juliet smiles, then heads back for the house that towers over the one I’m looking at.

I walk inside, feed the hungry cat, and then climb into the shower. Hot water pounds over me, washing away the remnants of a long day. I turn it to tepid as my skin turns pink before starting to shampoo and soap.

I rinse, towel off, pull on a dress, and comb through my hair. Skye has curled up on the couch, content now that she’s been fed. I grab a bottle of wine from the rack above the fridge, lock the front door, and walk over to the Phillipses’.

Henry opens the door on the first knock. “Evie!”

I smile. “Hi, Henry.” The last few times I’ve seen him have been at work. It’s strange to see him in jeans and a T-shirt instead of a tie and a white coat.

“Come on in.” He steps aside and holds the door open.

The mouthwatering aroma of fried chicken floods my nose as soon as I walk inside. “Wow. It smells amazing.”

“Juliet always pulls out all the stops for special guests.”

“Guests?” I assumed it would just be the three of us.

But I round the corner, and there he is. Leaning against the kitchen island, sipping a beer. My steps stutter. The smirk on Gray’s face tells me he noticed. I hope his parents didn’t.

“Evie!” Juliet rushes over to give me a hug. “You’re here!”

“You said to come over whenever,” I remind her.

She laughs. “I did.”

I hold the wine out. “For you. From my parents.”

Another laugh. “Thank you. Have you talked to them lately?”

“This morning. The time difference works out well for my drive into work. I usually catch them before lunch.”

Juliet moves to the cabinet and pulls out a serving plate. “They’re enjoying themselves?”

“Mom was seasick the first day, but other than that, I’m a little worried they’ll move to a vineyard and I’ll be stuck with the cat forever.”

“I’m so glad they’re enjoying themselves.” Juliet smiles. “Everything is ready. Are you hungry?”

“Starved. The hospital cafeteria leaves a lot to be desired.”

Henry chuckles at that.

Crap.

As chief, he technically oversees the entire hospital’s operations, including the food served in the cafeteria and to patients.

“I mean—”

“I’m not your boss tonight, Evie.” He winks. “The catering service is something I’ve been meaning to bring up to the board anyway.”

“I’m hungry.” Gray shoves away from the island. “Dinner’s ready?”

Juliet immediately jumps into action. “Yes. You all head into the dining room. I’ll bring everything out in a minute.”

Gray leaves the kitchen without another word. I trail behind with Henry, who’s telling me about his garden. I’m close with Henry and Juliet. They’re like a second set of parents—have been since they moved in next door two decades ago. Unlike Gray, I came home for every break and holiday I could manage to after I left for college. Growing up didn’t sever the bond I have with them. In Henry’s case, it strengthened it. I basically followed in his footsteps.

I never thought that it might be uncomfortable to eat dinner in their dining room.

Never thought I might have sex with their son.

Gray appears indifferent as Henry and I join him at the table that could comfortably seat twelve. Henry is still talking about the begonias he planted out back. I nod along like I know anything about botany. Juliet appears with a big salad and a plate of fried chicken, and we all dig into dinner.

We cover all the small talk. Where my new apartment is. How the cat is doing. Who might have bought the Zimmermans’ house down the street.

Gray is silent through all of it, and I wonder how much of my invitation tonight was as a buffer. I knew they weren’t perfect, but I assumed the Phillipses were just as shiny and happy on the inside as they appeared from the outside. I’ve witnessed enough interactions between Henry and Gray to know their relationship is strained, but I didn’t fully realize the state of his disconnect with Juliet as well.

The air is heavy and uncomfortable when conversation pauses—weighted with awkwardness I’m contributing to. I have no idea how I feel about Gray right now, so I’m far from a neutral mediator. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since he showed up at the hospital three days ago.

And then Juliet asks Gray what he did today.

“I surfed,” he says.

None of us miss Henry’s quiet scoff.

“Not really any waves this morning, so I mainly just sat there. Doing nothing.” The last two words are emphasized with the reminders of past conflict and purposeful accusation.

If this were a sitcom, it would be my cue to look around with exaggerated confusion and ask, Did I miss something here?

The Phillipses’ large dining room suddenly feels tiny. Tension swirls in the air-conditioned air and expands.

“That sounds nice, sweetheart.” Juliet makes a valiant effort to break it.

“You ever going to do something, son?” Henry asks. “You could be making a difference, just like Evie.”

I really wish I could be left out of this conversation. For lots of reasons.

“Noah landed the Danbury contract today,” I blurt.

He texted me the news earlier. The new development going up downtown was a coveted contract for his architecture firm, one he wasn’t expecting to play a part in.

“That’s fantastic!” Juliet exclaims.

“Yep.” I nod, then glance at Gray. It was the first thing that popped in my head to say. Too late, I realize my attempt at distraction could be interpreted as a dig or an agreement with what Henry is saying. “He’s really excited.”

“Tell him congratulations from us,” Henry adds.

Gray stiffens beside me.

“I will,” I reply weakly.

We finish dinner.

“Why don’t you two head out onto the porch?” Juliet suggests when all our plates are empty. “I made a pie for dessert. We should eat out there and enjoy the weather while it lasts.”

I agree, since Gray hasn’t said more than four sentences all night and is showing no signs of becoming more verbose anytime soon. “Sure, sounds good.”

Juliet and Henry disappear into the kitchen. I stand and walk out onto the screened porch, leaving Gray sitting alone at the table. The screened porch is about half the size of the formal dining room. One end holds a couple of wooden rocking chairs while the rest of the space is taken up by wicker table and chairs. String lights cast a soft glow. I walk over to the periphery and stare out into the dark night. I can’t see anything past the screen.

“Pretty impressive they didn’t run out of compliments for you the whole dinner. My parents are usually stingy with them.”

I turn to watch Gray approach me with his hands shoved in his pockets. My first thought is that his opinion means more to me than his parents’, but I don’t share that truth.

Instead, I make an observation. “So are you.”

He stops a few feet away, his gaze dark and intense. It sends shivers up my spine.

“Fishing for one?”

Forget fishing. I’d need a stick of dynamite and a shovel to unearth a compliment from Gray Phillips. I’ve never heard him compliment anyone about anything.

I snort at the suggestion. “My hopes are nice and low; don’t worry.”

He moves closer. Every inch that disappears between us increases my anticipation. There’s nothing resembling an appropriate distance between us. My spine presses into the wood that separates the sections of screen. The night air felt cool at first. Now, I’m flushed.

“If you want, I’ll give you compliments. All”—his lips brush my ear—“night”—ghost across my jaw—“long.” Press against my lips.

I moan into his mouth without meaning to.

“Do you want that, Evie?” He says my name like he never has before—with hidden meaning and heated familiarity.

I frantically search for my self-respect. “I thought we were a onetime thing.”

“We could be an as many times as we can until I leave thing.” He drops that sentence like it’s a simple statement with an easy answer.

This should be a hard, fast, and firm no. I already rode this emotional roller coaster. Got the T-shirt and the turmoil. Once can be a mistake. Even though he took it back, it probably was one. I’m the type of person who learns from her mistakes. Who thinks logically and follows reason.

Gray reads the hesitation on my face. “Look, I lied to Emmett that night. Told him I was back at the loft and was alone. He ran into Rachel and told her that. That’s why she texted me. It won’t happen again, I swear.”

He wants this, I realize. Wants me.

And rather than remember the aftermath—the embarrassment, the rejection, the anger—my body is focused on how it felt when he touched me. Kissed me. Was inside me. If it felt like that the first time, I want to know what it will be like the second.

Third.

Fourth.

Fifth.

Before I can say anything, Gray moves away, hearing what I didn’t—approaching footsteps. I sink into one of the wicker chairs just as Juliet rounds the corner, holding two plates of pie.

“It’s peach,” she tells me as she hands me a plate.

“It looks amazing,” I reply. “Thank you.”

“Gray.” Juliet holds the other plate out to him.

“Thanks, Mom.” He takes the seat next to me.

Henry appears with two more plates. We eat pie and enjoy the cool, peaceful evening.

Henry and Juliet talk about their trip to visit Juliet’s parents in Connecticut in a couple of months—just like they do every year. Juliet talks about her book club. Henry, his new golf clubs.

I ask questions and steal looks at Gray. He appears bored, just like he told me in the hallway of Malone’s. He mostly focuses on picking apart his dessert. But his brief glances at his parents say a lot. Gray doesn’t want what they have. He views a quiet life as constricting, not comfortable. We might have had similar upbringings, but that doesn’t make us similar people. I always imagined my future would include a family life, like the one I grew up with. Modest house, supportive husband, and kids.

But if Gray makes good on his words earlier, I know what will happen. I want him more than I’m looking for a happy ending. I’m young and working hundred-hour weeks. Fun should be my focus, not finding a life partner. Especially fun with a firm expiration date.

“You’re sure everything next door has been manageable?” Juliet asks. “I feel bad I can’t help out.”

I’m quick to assure her it has been. “I’m closer to the hospital. And it’s nice to be living back home. It feels familiar after being in Boston for so long.”

“Well, we’re sure glad to have you back in town. Wish this kid would follow your lead.” Juliet looks at Gray meaningfully.

He sets down his empty plate and mimes checking items off a list. “Disapproval. Check. Pie. Check. Guilt trip. Check. That means the evening is over, right?”

I keep my eyes cast down as I play with my fork, pushing all the stray crumbs on my plate together until they form a small pile in the center.

Juliet sighs, stands, and starts collecting plates. “I’ve got lots of leftovers, Evie. Will you take some home?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” I jump up to help her carry the dishes into the kitchen.

Juliet refuses my attempts to load the dishwasher. She fills four Pyrex containers with chicken and pie despite my protests that it’s far too much.

“Thank you so much for coming tonight, Evie.” She smiles at me. “I’m sorry about…well, dragging you into this.”

Strain and sadness tug at the curves of her mouth as she confirms my suspicions that I was invited as a buffer. I don’t think I eased tensions all that much.

“I had fun,” I lie.

Juliet shakes her head. “You sweet girl. Thank you for lying.” She snaps the lid on the last container and sets it on the other three.

Gray enters the kitchen as I’m struggling to pick up the tall stack of containers. Without a word, he takes all of them from me. “Night, Mom. Thanks for dinner.”

I cast him an incredulous look.

“Good night…” Juliet looks just as taken aback by Gray’s behavior.

“I’ve got them,” I tell him.

Gray acts like I didn’t say anything. “Night, Dad.”

“Good night, Gray,” Henry replies gruffly.

Gray heads for the door.

“Thank you so much for dinner.” I smile at Juliet and Henry, then hurry after him.

When I enter the front hallway, he’s standing with the door wide open. I walk past him without a word, onto the front porch. The soft click of the door closing is the only sound in the still night.

We walk in silence to my parents’ front door. I fish the key out of my pocket, unlock the door, and flick the light on.

Gray chuckles. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

I study him, not expecting the sudden shift in attitude. Five minutes ago, he was sullen and somber. Now, the annoyance that hung around him like a cloud at dinner has evaporated. I don’t ask any questions. He’s Noah’s best friend, not mine. Sleeping together once doesn’t change that. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure mentioning his parents will just piss him off.

I kick aside a pair of sneakers to clear a path. One lands on the dirty scrubs I was too tired to take off at work and too eager to shed so I could shower, while the other knocks over the half-empty water bottle I left on the floor for some reason. “Cleaner than your place.”

“I like the mess. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I’ll know it’s probably not because we just got bombed.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say to the raw admission; I’ve never heard Gray talk about what his deployments are like, and I’m unsure how to react.

He heads in the direction of the kitchen before I can decide on what else to say. Decide if I should say anything.

“Does pie have to be refrigerated?”

I follow, grabbing my breakfast dishes off the table and setting them in the sink. “No idea. Just put it in there.”

I turn on the faucet and watch water fill the empty glass and bowl. The refrigerator door shuts.

I take a deep breath, shut off the tap, and spin around. “I want.”

“Huh?” Gray glances up.

He’s bent down, scratching Skye’s furry head. The white cat purrs as she weaves around his ankles. Warmer greeting than I’ve ever gotten.

“Earlier, you said if I wanted to, we could, you know, have sex again. I want to.”

A smirk spreads across his face as he straightens. My pulse pounds wildly as he walks toward me.

“I thought I was a lousy lay?”

“Consider this a chance to redeem yourself.”

“Lucky me,” he murmurs. But he’s not being sarcastic. He sounds serious.

His lips meet mine, and the kiss starts off slow and teasing. Quick nips. A hint of tongue. Then, it deepens. His hands slip beneath my shirt. I grind against his thigh.

Somehow—thankfully—the sound of the front door opening breaks through the Gray haze I was engulfed in. I can’t go anywhere; I’m pressed against the counter. But Gray hears it too. He moves away as I stiffen, letting me pull my shirt down.

When Noah walks into the kitchen seconds later, closely followed by Harrison and Emmett, Gray is leaning against the counter across from me with his arms crossed. The rapid pound of my heart vibrates through my whole body. Gray appears completely indifferent. He’s even better at masking his emotions than I realized.

“Evie!” Noah beams when he sees me.

I’ve only seen my brother drunk enough for it to be obvious a handful of times. This is one of them.

He walks over to wrap his arms around me.

“Hey. Congrats on Danbury, Noah.”

“Thanks, sis.” He squeezes me, then laughs. “Still can’t believe they gave it to me. I’ve got the least experience out of anyone at the firm.”

“Doesn’t matter. Obviously, they wanted the best.”

Noah’s face softens as the sincerity in my voice registers. We bicker plenty, but we’re incredibly close. I didn’t realize just how much I missed living nearby my brother and parents until I moved back. Technology can’t replicate all the tiny moments that can only be shared in person.

Noah glances at Gray. “Hey, man. I’ve been calling you. What are you doing here?”

I hold my breath, but there’s no suspicion in Noah’s voice, just confusion.

“My mom roped Evie into coming over for dinner,” Gray replies. “I just helped carry the leftovers over here.”

“Juliet cooked? Sweet!” Emmett makes a beeline for the fridge.

Noah nods, then looks to me. “I hope it’s okay we’re here. We went out for dinner—”

“Drinks,” Harrison interjects, smiling wryly.

“Drinks. And we thought it’d be fun to play some pool basketball before heading downtown later.”

“Pool was Emmett’s idea,” Harrison adds.

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d even be here with your crazy-ass work schedule.”

“Yep. I’ve even got tomorrow off.”

“You should come downtown,” Noah offers. “Drinks on me. We’re celebrating, and I owe you for taking care of the hairball.”

“Rain check?” I request. “I’m really looking forward to getting more than a few hours of sleep, and the hairball starts meowing at seven sharp.”

Noah laughs. “Yeah. Sure. Come out and play with us at least.”

“’Kay. Just let me go change. You guys brought suits?”

“I left a few here.”

I nod, then walk out of the kitchen.

As I head down the hallway, I hear Harrison ask, “You staying, Phillips?”

“Yeah,” Gray responds.

I blame that one-worded answer for why it takes me ten minutes to decide between the three bathing suit options I have here. One is a sporty one-piece from my high school swim team. One is a red halter-style from a spring break trip in college. The last is a navy set with a scalloped edge. I try on all three and rule out the one-piece. The red is the most revealing. That leaves the navy. I change into that and then see half of the bottoms is pilled. No wonder I left it behind.

“Evie! You coming?” Noah calls.

“Be right there,” I shout back.

Red it is. I risk a final glance in the mirror before I leave my room. It’s not that I don’t think I look good. And I’d be lying if I said I’m not curious what Gray’s reaction might be. He’s seen me in a bikini before, but not since high school. Definitely not since he saw me wearing nothing at all.

The guys have made even more of a mess of the kitchen. The leftovers from Juliet are almost all gone, and they also broke into the alcohol stash. I pour a glass of what smells like a margarita and take a long sip before I pad out, barefoot, onto the back deck. Emmett and Noah are setting up the hoops in the pool. Harrison and Gray are sorting through the bin of floats and noodles. Looking for a ball to use, I’m guessing.

“You’ll probably have better luck finding one in the garage.”

They both look up when I speak. Harrison’s eyes widen before he quickly glances back down. Gray doesn’t visibly react at all. But he doesn’t look away either. And his gaze isn’t staying on my face. I feel his eyes rove over me like a physical touch. Goose bumps form. I wonder if he’s thinking about what we might be doing right now if Noah, Emmett, and Harrison hadn’t shown up. That’s what I’m thinking about.

“I’ll check the garage.” Harrison heads that way.

I hope it’ll leave me and Gray alone for a minute. We weren’t just interrupted—we were interrupted by my brother, who happens to be his best friend. I’m not sure how Noah might react to me getting involved with one of his best friends. It’s not a conversation we’ve ever had. I have no idea if Gray might rethink things between us following the reminder I’m not just a girl from a bar.

Emmett and Noah come over to us before Gray or I can say a word.

Emmett lets out a low whistle. “Ever given a patient a heart attack because you showed up, Dr. Collins?”

Noah punches his arm, but it’s a good-natured one. His brow furrows as he looks at me. “That’s what you chose to play pool basketball in?”

“I didn’t exactly have a lot of options. Most of my clothes are still packed. And since I’m here, taking care of everything, I haven’t had the chance to unpack them.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Got one.” Harrison jogs back from the garage with a ball in hand.

I down the rest of my drink and dive into the pool. The water temperature is warmer than the air. I swim a few lengths, enjoying the cool sluice as I glide through the water. The way it offsets the warm rush of alcohol in my veins. Eventually, I flip onto my back and just float, staring up at the dark, star-scattered sky. Splashes alert me to the fact the guys have all jumped in as well.

“You ready, Evie?” Emmett calls.

“Uh-huh.” I stop floating and swim over to the center of the pool.

“Me and Gray versus you all?” Harrison suggests.

“How’d you come up with those teams, Ledger?” Emmett asks, rolling his eyes.

It’s well-established that Gray’s team ends up being the winning one.

“We should make it fair. I’ll play against you all,” Gray suggests, smirking.

“Let Ledger protect his fragile little ego,” Noah replies. “Him and Phillips versus us.”

We start playing. I mostly tread water. I wouldn’t say I’m uncoordinated, but I wouldn’t call myself athletic either. When I lived in Boston, I’d jog along the Charles River on an occassional basis. I prefer swimming to running, but this is the first time I’ve been in my parents’ pool since I moved home. Noah and his friends aren’t only athletic; they’re all competitive. Elbows are being thrown around with insults.

Noah eventually calls me out on my laziness. “Pull a little weight, Evie. They’re killing us!”

I look at Gray. It’s good the rest of the guys are drunk because I don’t think I’ve been all that subtle about the number of glances I’ve snuck his way tonight. Gray grins at me as he spins the ball on one finger. If we were alone, I’d stick my tongue out at him. But as oblivious as everyone else seems, I’m not going to press my luck. I settle for an eye roll instead.

When Emmett passes to me next, I attempt a basket, swimming toward the hoop with the ball tucked in one elbow. I’m not expecting for it to go in, which it doesn’t. I’m also not expecting for Gray to guard me, which he does. Rather than snag the ball out of midair, like he’s done to thwart most of Noah’s and Emmett’s attempts, he makes contact. There are no rules to pool basketball. It’s a get the ball through the hoop by any means necessary sort of sport. The water does nothing to muffle the sensation as his palm presses against my stomach.

The ball drops onto the surface of the water several feet from the net.

“Evie!” Noah shouts. “Seriously?”

“That was a fucking foul, Phillips,” Emmett adds.

Neither of them seems concerned by the only thing I’m concerned with—Gray is still touching me. And his hand has dipped lower, grazing the edge of my bikini bottoms. Flirting with danger in more ways than one, considering Noah is about ten feet away from us. It might be too dark to see what’s happening below the water, but it’s obvious how close we are. Emmett, Noah, and Harrison are all too busy arguing about what constitutes an illegal play to notice.

One of Gray’s fingers dip beneath the hem. I inhale sharply, wondering how far he’s possibly planning to take this. I get the answer seconds later when he pulls his hand away.

“You look good in red,” he whispers, then glides away. “Let’s call it,” Gray shouts.

“Yeah, fine. Let’s go downtown,” Emmett says.

I swim to the edge of the pool and pull myself out. My mom keeps a stack of towels in a bin out here. I lift the lid, grab one out, and wrap it around myself. “I’m going to shower, Noah. Congrats again. Have fun downtown, guys.”

“Thanks, Evie,” Noah calls after me. It mixes with the goodbyes from the other guys.

I smile at them as a group—not focusing on anyone in particular—and head inside. I strip off the wet swimwear in my room and walk into the adjoining bathroom.

Minutes later, I’m standing under a steaming stream of water. I already showered after work earlier, so I focus on rinsing the chlorine out of my hair and off my skin and then shut the water off.

There’s a knock on the door as I step out of the shower.

I grab my towel off the hook and wrap it around my body. “Yeah?”

I’m expecting it to be Noah.

But the voice that says, “It’s me,” definitely does not belong to my brother.

There’s something oddly intimate about hearing Gray say, “It’s me,” not, It’s Gray. It alludes to a level of familiarity I guess we’ve reached.

I walk over to the bathroom door and open it. He’s braced against the side of the doorframe with one arm, wearing nothing except for black swim trunks.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” I glance behind him, at my empty room and shut door.

“They all left.”

“Oh. You didn’t want to go?”

He shakes his head. “No. Moved my car around the block and came back.”

“Whatever bar they went to probably has a hot waitress or two.”

One corner of his mouth hikes up. “Probably. Do you still want to?”

Apparently, Noah’s appearance didn’t change a damn thing. I tell myself the relief is because I’m eager to experience sex again and short on other options on who to have it with. There’s not a single guy from high school I’d call up for a booty call. The only other men I know in Charleston are ones I work with. Getting involved with colleagues gets messy, fast.

I drop my gaze deliberately, tracing the ridges and valleys of Gray’s abdomen. First with my eyes and then with my fingers. The distance between us quickly shrinks. Gray tilts my chin up and stares down at me. My breathing turns ragged. Oxygen is becoming scarce. My whole body is tingling with anticipation. He doesn’t kiss me, just stares. I realize he’s waiting for me to answer.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

His mouth touches mine. Tingles turn into thrills. I wonder if the rush of kissing Gray will get old before this ends. I’ve never responded like this to anyone else. There were guys I was attracted to, guys I was excited about kissing. But I’ve never craved anyone’s touch like this before. Wanted it so badly that everything else fades away like an old photograph.

The fluffy towel slips away and falls to the floor, leaving me naked. Gray slides his hands down my bare back and lifts me up against his body. I wind my legs around him. He starts walking, heading in the direction of my bed.

Once we’re lying on it, I expect Gray to escalate things right away. But he doesn’t do anything more than kiss me. We kiss and kiss and kiss until I’ve memorized exactly how it feels. Every groove, every flick, every taste.

It’s messy. Slow. Wild.

I grow impatient first. I start by rubbing against his body. He’s hard; I can feel his erection pressing against me through the thin fabric of his swim trunks. But he just keeps kissing me. I pull a hand out of his hair and run it down his chest and stomach, tugging down the damp material of his trunks until his cock is exposed.

“I want this,” I whisper to him, moving my hand up and down his length.

He groans into my mouth.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells me, then stands and disappears.

I listen to his steps echo down the hallway. They fade, stop, then start to return, growing louder until he appears back in the doorway. Gloriously naked. I watch as he rolls the condom on. Spread my legs as he approaches. Hiss as he finally gives me what I want.

It doesn’t hurt when he slides inside me this time, but the stretch still feels strange.

“Fuck,” Gray growls. “Fuck.” He repeats the throaty sound. His features tighten as he stops moving, fully sheathed inside me. “You good?” He raises a hand and brushes a drop of water off my cheek.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Move.”

He smirks. “No please? You’re normally so polite.”

“If you make me come, I’ll say thank you.”

I feel his chest rumble with amusement as he withdraws, then thrusts back inside of me. After a few strokes, I gain some confidence. I start meeting his movements, falling into a rhythm. It surprises me—how quickly the pleasure appears and how fast it spreads.

Gray notices. He starts filling me faster as his hand slips between our bodies and starts caressing my clit. His mouth lands on my neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. And just like that, I’m over the cliff, free-falling into ecstasy as the pleasure bursts. He keeps pumping, prolonging my orgasm and chasing his own. I feel him jerk inside me when he does.

We’re both breathing heavily. My limbs feel like jelly.

Gray pulls away. I don’t move as he stands and walks into the bathroom. I tell myself I won’t care what happens next. It doesn’t matter if he leaves right away.

He reappears seconds later. I watch him deliberate for a moment before he lies back down beside me. I’m not sure what to do now. I was already tired from a long workweek. After the swimming and sex, I could fall asleep, standing up.

I roll, wiggle, and shift until I’m lying horizontal on the bed with my head on the pillow. I pull the sheets over myself. I’ve never slept naked before, but it feels nice—the soft cotton against my bare skin.

Gray hesitates again, but then the covers move. His leg brushes mine as he slides under them beside me. Before I can think it through, I muster my last ounce of energy and flip over, so I’m facing him. Touching him. I doubt he’s expecting to snuggle, but he doesn’t flinch or move away.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

I fall asleep to the sound of his laughter.