Out of Focus (Chosen Paths #2) (36 page)

BOOK: Out of Focus (Chosen Paths #2)
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“Miss me?”

My lips pinch tightly against the laughter, but I’m pretty sure he spied the beginnings of my smile before my measly attempt to hide it.

I lift my bare shoulder and offer in a nonchalant voice, “Maybe.”

His smile widens and he steps to the side, allowing my entrance. The door closes behind me, and even though Grady’s standing three feet away, his presence engulfs me. Warmth races through my veins, and my cheeks heat as he passes. I breathe in the familiar smell, revel silently in its aftermath, then follow him to the kitchen.

As he opens his cabinet, I eye his perfectly shaped ass, beautifully accentuated by the designs on the back pockets of his jeans. My view only gets better when he lifts his arm, inquiring over his shoulder, “Wine?”

I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from drooling, then shake my head even though he can’t see me. “Nah, water would be great though. Thanks.”

Grady twists his body, smile still present on his face. “Water it is, then.”

He snags two glasses and fills them while I approach the island, placing the letter on top. He turns to face me, and his stare drops to the envelope. He pauses, then places both glasses on the island, one on each side of my letter, and raises his eyes to meet mine.

I clear my throat and my hands anxiously worm into my front pockets as I meekly offer, “For you.”

Grady reaches forward, dragging the paper across the granite countertop with the tips of his fingers. Once it’s in his possession, he lifts it, his eyes inquisitive.

He definitely doesn’t seem angry anymore.

Maybe I still have a chance?

I nervously shift my stance. “You can read it.”

He seems to pick up on my nervous energy, because his expression falls serious as he takes a seat and hooks his finger under the flap to open it. The cream-colored paper is extracted.

I watch nervously as he begins to read. His face gives nothing away with the exception of a clenched jaw as he reads, which later relaxes toward the middle of my letter. I remain silent, watching his reaction to my words.

Once he’s done, his eyes remain trained on the paper held in his hands, absorbing everything I’ve shared. Once through, he remains silent as he creases the letter between his thumb and forefinger and places it gingerly back into the confines of the envelope.

Only then does he raise his eyes and as he does, glistening, caring eyes meet mine. I grind down on my teeth, but my tears are stubborn. They surge, coating my lashes.

I clear my throat and finally remove my hands from my pockets, gesturing toward him as I say, “Well, that’s it. Now you know everything.”

Grady shakes his head, disengaging his gaze from mine to look back at the letter in his hands. “I suspected, but I didn’t know. Not for sure.”

“You suspected?” I inquire, already realizing his answer before he speaks it out loud.

His eyes remain locked in the direction of the island. “The first time I ever touched you, in Krav Maga, remember?”

I know exactly to what he’s referring. “You put your hands on my waist, and my entire body froze.”

“It did.” He finally looks back to me, his stare furious, yet equally heartbroken. “I’m trained to recognize these things, Cass. I just . . .
fuck
. I hoped it hadn’t happened to
you
.”

My mouth dips into a sad smile and I shrug. “Well, it did. But like you said, I think you knew that. And honestly, I think
I
knew that you
knew, but I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself yet.”

I pin him with my gaze. “That’s why you gave me Aubrey’s card, isn’t it?”

Grady’s mouth lifts into a rueful smile and he dips his head slightly in affirmation. He exhales deeply before adding, “I followed you, you know. I was worried when I couldn’t get hold of you. So I got your parents’ names from Spencer and tagged their address. I just needed to know you were okay.”

He clears his throat. “I was outside your house that morning, when you went to the cemetery. You were upset, angry, so I followed you. I stayed in my car, watching from the periphery while you cried, but when you rose to your knees and pleaded,
goddamn
Cass . . . it took every bit of restraint I possessed not to get out, haul you into my arms, and bring you home with me.”

He becomes blurry in my vision as I watch his pained expression.

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

I nod, the movement ripping the tears from my eyes. They begin to flow freely, coating my cheeks in damp warmth.

He mirrors my gesture, his head dipping downward before he continues. “I waited for you to finally get back to your apartment. I wanted to ask you about it, but as soon as you opened that door, I knew you were already gone. Too far for me to grab hold. And I blamed myself. I was so pissed, so angry because I was losing you right in front of my eyes. I spoke out of anger, and I’m sorry for that.”

I laugh and wipe a tear drifting down my face. “If
anyone
spoke out of anger, Grady, it was me. I said things I can never take back. Horrible, awful things. Then you left and I rationalized it. I convinced myself it was for the best, that it was better for you not to have to deal with my baggage, with my pain, with my past. Things I couldn’t even deal with at the time.”

A shy smile crosses my face as I shrug. “But when I woke up, and I saw my belongings in front of me, then Roger staring at me with his beady eyes, all I could think was I really
hope
Grady Bennett waits for me to finish falling. I wasn’t able to admit that to myself for a really long time, but it’s true. I think at that moment, somewhere in my consciousness, I knew I would make it, that I would conquer my fears, but I wasn’t ready. Not then. It had to be my decision to make.”

I grin, then pull up the bottom of my shirt, exposing my reason for coming tonight. I could’ve easily left the letter for Grady to read on his own, but I really wanted to show him this.

My smile broadens until my cheeks ache, and I feel giddy as a teenager as I hook my thumb in my jeans and tug them down gently, displaying the fresh ink on my skin.

Right above my hipbone is the image of a parachute, just as I remember when I looked up from beneath Grady, watching as it caught air and flared open. The top is a very light orange and morphs gradually into a deep red toward the bottom, symbolizing not only my very own spark, but the way Grady makes me feel. The color of warmth.

And in paying homage to the shade of his sapphire eyes, the very eyes I found my initial focus in, are two words written in navy blue right in the center.

Landed strong

“I landed strong, Grady. I was in one hell of a free fall, but I found my strength and righted myself. It was
you
who helped me to be able to do that. You made good on your promise and with the help of Dr. Miller, of
Aubrey
, you put me in the position to be guided slowly, safely, until my feet finally hit the ground. And when they struck, I felt pure power with the knowledge I had faced my fears and conquered my own personal hell. I landed strong because of you.”

I lower my shirt and release my jeans, shrugging my shoulders. “So, thank you. That’s all I wanted to say. That’s why I came. I just . . . I needed to see you for no other reason than to let you know I landed the fall and to thank you for getting me there.”

And I really hope you still love me.

Because I do still love you.

I will always love you.

Grady remains seated, his expression stoic, giving nothing away as he watches me nervously tug at the bottom of my shirt. I hold his stare, and when he says nothing, disappointment drowns any hope I had for his forgiveness. For his love and acceptance. For a future.

Our
future.

I will always love you.

My thumb flies over my shoulder, indicating the door. “I’m just gonna go ahead and go . . .”

The edge of his mouth quirks slightly. “So there’s
no
other reason you came then?”

I grip my bottom lip with my front teeth and lift my shoulders. A nervous rush of energy erupts through my system. “I mean, well, I had hoped—”

“Come here.” Grady rises, the chair screeching with his movement. Persistent eyes lock onto mine, brimming with intensity.

Another wave rushes through me and giddy excitement pricks my veins. I don’t move an inch, though. I remain where I stand, but my bottom lip is pulled from my teeth as I give him an ornery grin.

Grady’s brow lifts, he raises his hand, and crooks his finger. “Come here.
Please
.”

My feet make the decision for me. They’re insistent in their strides as they pick up pace, and once I’m within launching distance, I fly into his arms. My arms wrap around his shoulders as he catches me, squeezing me tightly in an embrace. One arm hooks around my waist, while the other positions his hand at the base of my neck. He weaves his fingers into my hair and his warmth floods my body as he holds me securely against his chest. Soothing heat from his mouth sifts through my hair when he presses his lips to my temple, the sensation increasing as he releases a long, contended breath.

We grip each other tightly, our bodies pressed firm with our lengthy embrace.

I. Have. Missed. This. So. Much.

God, how I have missed him.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Cass.”

His mouth hits the shell of my ear with his whisper and my throat clogs, not with sadness, but with pride in myself.

Suddenly, his body tenses within my hold and he presses away, his arms still clenched tightly around me as he squints down at my face. His eyebrows are pressed together, clearly confused as he inquires, “Wait . . . who’s Roger?”

I laugh—
really
laugh—and its release is freeing as the rush of air leaves my chest. “I have so much to tell you. A lot’s happened over the past three months. And it all started with Roger, the green, plastic paratrooper. The stubborn bastard who wouldn’t crash no matter how hard I threw him.”

A full grin remains on my lips as I toss Grady a very
Grady
-like wink.

His face relaxes and his mouth curves beautifully before he states, “You’re so goddamn beautiful when you smile, but when you
laugh
, it steals my fucking breath every time.”

He leans his forehead against mine, centering his lips just centimeters from my mouth as he whispers, “I love you so much. These months apart haven’t been easy for me, knowing you were fighting battles on your own, but I knew you could do it. And you were never really alone, Cass. I was watching, making sure you were landing safely, because I knew as soon as you hit that ground, sweetheart, you were mine. You
are
mine. And regardless of what you said in your apartment, you
are
my purpose. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”

Just like that, I turn into a girly puddle and melt to the floor.

And I love it.

I love
him
.

He closes the distance and captures my mouth, his full lips grazing mine ever so tenderly as his soft tongue gently probes the seam. I open for him, angling my head to the side as he does the same. Our mouths fuse as we wordlessly communicate the depths of our love for each other with each moan, with each growl, with each press of our bodies, as though we can’t get close enough.

Hours later, when we’ve shed our clothes, along with every last one of our vulnerabilities, we communicate much the same way. With each gentle trace of his fingers along my skin, with each tug of the hair wrapped around my fingers, with each clench of my body and each low rumble I receive in return, we continue to express our love through action.

No words are necessary.

But a very distinct one comes to mind.

Home.

I feel as though I have not only found myself—found I can love myself—but that I have finally found my home.

And as he holds my stare from above as he pumps his length slowly into my body, he takes his time to show me how much he loves me. He gently runs his fingers up and down my body as if he simply can’t
not
touch me. He reacquaints himself with the softness of my skin, with the texture he’d missed so much. He tells me how he had waited patiently for me from afar, how hard it was to wait, having already tasted me. And after he takes his time touching my skin, he shows me exactly how much he’s missed my taste. He kisses me senseless, tonguing and sucking me into oblivion.
Ecstasy.
Every action is a demonstration of how precious I am to him. He fills me completely, in heart, soul, and body. He consumes me with his passion, his need, his desire. And I let him
take
me.

I offer myself completely, everything I am, because much like the song we danced to for the first time in this very apartment, he is
mine
and I am
his
.

Forever and always.

Thank you, Grady Bennett, for waiting for me to land strong.

Thank you for believing in me and guiding me to safety.

And thank you, most of all, for showing me what love is.

For teaching me the meaning, the unadulterated beauty of the emotion, as it exists between the two of us . . .

The way it was meant to be experienced.

Home.

BOOK: Out of Focus (Chosen Paths #2)
7.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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