I scrub my hand over my face and exhale a frustrated breath.
My guitar’s in my lap, my three notebooks are on the table in front of me, and the clock is telling me I’ve been at this way too long.
But I can’t sleep. It seems like sleep is few and far between these days.
And so I work.
It’s all I can do to keep my mind busy and my stress to a minimum.
And I wait. To hear from Grady. To hear the story that his brothers told me—how fire overwhelmed his crew and they had to take cover and then hike their way out. To know he’s home safe. To have that talk he promised we’d have.
It’s been ten days. Ten long ones.
They’ve been packed with new experiences. Me, behind the mic to record for the first time. Me, giving creative input to my own songs. Me, taking a step into facing my fears and realizing that singing my own song in a studio isn’t terribly different from when I’m directing Jett on how to sing a new one.
I pull my guitar onto my lap, tuck my pencil behind my ear, and begin again.
The knock startles me, and my first thought is that Jett’s drunk and coming over as he’s done in the past. But when I look through the peephole, I can’t get the door open fast enough.
Because it’s Grady standing on my doorstep.
It’s Grady looking completely exhausted and more handsome than any man I’ve ever set eyes on. He has an unshaven scruff. His hair is longer than normal, curling over his ears, and his clothes look like he’s been outside camping for days on end without washing them. But he is the best sight I’ve ever seen.
It’s Grady representing every single damn thing I want, and I can’t wait to tell him I intend to have it. Because this time I am going to fight. This time I’m not going to let him walk away without knowing how I feel about him.
But that can wait because within a heartbeat, I am in his arms. Legs wrapped around his waist. Lips against his. Hands running over his back and cheeks and face. Laughter sounding off in the space against us.
“You’re here,” I murmur against his lips.
“I’m here,” he repeats back to me.
“How are you here?” I laugh wondering how he knows my address.
“Your brother gave me your address.”
Simple enough and too much explanation that doesn’t matter right now.
“God, I missed you.”
Our tongues meet, and our bodies press against each other’s as we physically reconnect. He walks us into the house, and I stay attached to him like a spider monkey because there is no way I’m letting him go yet.
Not when he stumbles backward. Not when he sits on the couch. Not when he breaks his lips from mine, hands framing my face, and his lips saying, “Let me look at you, Dylan.”
My heart melts. There is so much swimming in his eyes. So many unspoken words. So many unnamed emotions.
He leans forward, kisses me, and then rests his forehead against mine as his thumbs brush over my cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” I laugh and whisper and press another kiss to his lips.
“I told you when I was done with the fire we needed to have a talk.”
“A talk? Is that what we’re going to do? Talk?”
His dick is hard and tempting where it presses between my thighs, and every part of my body aches for it as much as every part of my heart needs to hear what he has to say.
“Yes.” His voice is strained, and he kisses me again so that when our lips part he has to hold my head in place to prevent me from taking more. “We need to talk. We’ve gone on too long without talking.” Another brusque kiss. “And then we’ll communicate in other ways.” I can feel his mouth spread into a smile against mine.
“Are you okay, Grady?” I’m not sure why I ask the question in this moment, but it feels so very important that it just comes out. I lean back from where I sit astride his hips and study him, needing to see his eyes when he answers.
“I am now.” It’s a struggle to fight the tears that threaten because those three words are almost as meaningful to me as another set of three. It means he finds solace in me. Comfort.
“Good. I’m glad.”
“I was finally able to listen to the song you sent me in my voicemail. It was incredible, Dylan. You are incredible. I’m so proud of you.”
“It’s because of you I could do it.”
“No. It’s because of you.”
“I—”
“You’re going to be a star.” His smile is shy and warms every part of me. “And I’m going to tell you ‘I told you so’ every single day.”
“Every single day?”
“I have a few things I need to say—”
“Grady—”
“My turn, Dylan.” He presses a lingering kiss on my lips. “There were some things I should have said before. A lot of things. And I need to say them now.”
“It doesn’t matter what you say, it only matters that you’re here.”
“It does matter. Words always matter.” He shakes his head and looks down for a minute before meeting my eyes again. “Just because I let you go doesn’t mean I wanted to. In fact it was quite the opposite . . . but how could I ask you to stay and put you through this life I live when you have your own?”
“Isn’t that my choice to decide?”
“The protector in me was trying to prevent you from being hurt.”
“The protector in you is appreciated, but I can make my own decisions, which is why you’re not fully to blame. I have a voice, and I chose not to use it. I figured you were so set in your opinions that nothing was going to change them, so why try?”
“Sometimes it takes something—or someone—to make you see the error of your ways. A man can only call himself a man when he’s willing to admit he was wrong.” Grady angles his head and stares at me. “I was wrong, Dylan.”
“I was wrong too.”
He laces his fingers with mine, offers me a shy smile, and then explains everything about what happened to him and his crew from the wind shift to the firestorm they had to endure under their space blankets to their long, arduous hike out.
“You see, when I was under that fire blanket, all I could think about was you. How I wanted to come home to you. How I want you waiting for me, missing me. I know that’s selfish, but what is all this for if there isn’t someone willing to take the risk with me? What does all of this mean if I can’t go home and share the ups and downs and sideways days with someone?”
My pulse races, and every part of my body surges with an immeasurable pride in him. “I don’t know what you want out of life, Dylan. We never talked about shit like that. Kids? Dogs? More pigs? I don’t have a clue. But I’d love to. I want to know what you want, what you need, what you dream of. And I’d love to be the one to help you get it.”
“Grady.” I can’t speak over the emotion clogging up my thoughts. “I—”
“I’m not asking to be your whole world, Dylan, I just want to be a part of it. I want to be the part that revolves around you. I want to be the one who grounds you so we’re forced to come home to each other, even when we’re mad. I want to provide the arms that hug you and the hands that hold yours through whatever adventure awaits us. I want you and whatever the two of us decide we want for our future.”
I press my lips to his as my tears fall. There is the taste of salt in our kiss. The sweetness of love in it. The sprinkle of hope mixed in.
“Can I talk now?” I laugh.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I love you. Plain and simple. I love you, Grady Malone,” I murmur against his lips.
“Why didn’t you say so?” He laughs.
“Because you never asked me to stay.”
“I’m asking you now. Stay with me, Dylan. Please stay.”
“I never thought you’d ask.”
“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”