Before I even realized it, Grayson’s three months came to an end.

We were at Alana’s house again, Grayson teaching the boys how to best memorize lines for a school play they were in when Alana handed me the calendar she kept in her kitchen. She had marked a few days that she wanted off from the diner and I had agreed to put it on my phone calendar so I wouldn’t forget.

But staring at me from the pages, mockingly, was an expiration date only a week away. My stomach fell into the pit of my stomach, and before I could school the devastation on my face, Alana saw it and barely concealed her concern at my sharp glare.

Our three months were almost up, and I couldn’t stomach it. I watched him as he recited lines with Brad and Brian, the twins trying to copy the actor’s stance and cadence. His hair had grown to a ridiculously unruly length, constantly falling in front of his eyes and needing to be pushed behind his ears. Grayson had admitted that he liked having his hair like this because once he was cast, he always had to trim it to a neat, short style. I preferred it like this.

He looked over Brian’s head, winking. My heart fluttered, and I smiled back.

“I like him,” Todd announced. Alana rolled her eyes, and I raised an eyebrow. Todd looked between us, frowning. “What? I do. He’s nice.”

I laughed. Nicer than me, you mean. “He is,” I agreed.

I typed out the dates that Alana wanted off work and handed her back the calendar, studiously refusing to look back at the only date that actually mattered on the calendar. One week.

He hadn’t mentioned leaving. Though I supposed, I hadn’t mentioned staying either. We had made plans that certainly would spill over into the time that he was supposed to be gone, though—like now, with Grayson helping the boys and promising to be there for the opening night. He’d even started helping out around the diner—exclusively refilling coffees, as that was really the only job he was capable of. His flour-covered hotel room turned out to be one of his better attempts at cooking.

That didn’t necessarily mean anything, but it made me feel a little less breathless when I thought about the days passing.

When the boys started yawning, and Alana ushered them upstairs to go to sleep, Grayson and I said our goodbyes and slipped out the door. He wove his fingers through mine and tugged me toward the direction of his hotel room with determination, and I allowed it, letting him drag me closer so that I could rest my head on his shoulder as we walked.

It was finally starting to warm up, though the sun had long ago set and I knew I’d be chilly if I weren’t pressed so tightly against Grayson as we headed toward the hotel. The walk barely took fifteen minutes, and I found that I didn’t mind it much like this. I pulled back a little, lifting my head and squeezing his hand before letting it go as we entered the hotel and went up the elevator.

He yawned, hiding it in his elbow. I smiled.

We intertwined our fingers again after exiting the elevator and seeing no one in the hallway. It was an extra precaution we’d started taking without talking about it. I didn’t mind as much as I thought I would.

He didn’t bother flickering on the lights, just stepping out of his shoes and tossing his jacket and hat on the small table. I followed suit, toeing my shoes off and hanging my coat on the rack.

The curtains were open still, the position of the room letting a bit of moonlight seep into the space. He looked nice like that, standing in a strip of glowing moonlight, slowly taking his long-sleeved top off, his eyes heavy with sleep. Not that it was surprising that he looked nice. I just hadn’t gotten used to it, how each day with him managed to take my breath away. It was a bit unfair, frankly.

He turned to me, cocking his head. A smile ghosted his features, pulling at the strings in my chest that seemed to be directly tied to the corners of his mouth.

“Come over here,” he said, his voice rough with sleepiness. He held out a hand, and I scrambled over to him, taking it. His smile widened at my eagerness.

He dropped his shirt on the floor and tugged at the bottom of my shirt, raising it above my head and discarding it on the floor with his own. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bed, both of us falling onto it. Grayson laughed at our rather graceless descent and rolled over, so he was on his side, propping his head up on his hand.

“What’s got you quiet tonight?” he asked. I positioned myself, so I was mirroring him, smiling when he reached over to rake his hand through my hair. His fingernails dragged against my scalp, the feeling making me keen softly.

He ran his thumb down the side of my face. I leaned into the touch. “Nothing.”

He hummed, tsking underneath his tongue. I almost pointed out that he’d gotten that from Alana, but thought it too endearing to ruin.

The moon spilled over his side, highlighting half of his face and arm. His cheekbones were bright and sharp, looking something dangerous from this position. I almost moved to kiss them, feel their strength beneath the give of my mouth, but I felt too good with his hand in my hair to disturb it.

“I don’t believe you,” he murmured. My eyes fluttered closed as his fingers deftly worked through my hair. It felt so good. The bed groaned as he scooted a little closer, reaching around to the other side of my head. “What’s wrong?”

My whole body felt like jello. The bed was soft, and his hand was firm, and his cinnamon breath was blowing across my lips.

“It’s just.” I sighed, rubbing my face into the pillow a bit. “You’re scheduled to leave soon.”

The words fell out, an accusation and a plea all rolled in one. He inhaled sharply, his fingers hesitating.

The seconds ticked on. I watched his face, looking for any sign of distress or worry. I watched his face for anything. After a moment, though, my fingers started to move again, and the pinched expression relaxed. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he tilted his head, letting his hand fall a little until he was cupping my jaw and capturing my lips with his own.

I melted instantly, kissing him back eagerly. I shifted until Grayson was on his back, I hovered above him, our lips moving with each other slowly. I tilted my head, nudging his bottom lip with my tongue. His lips parted instantly, and I deepened the kiss, swallowing the groan he produced and kissing him a bit harder for it.

He wound one arm around my neck, the other gripping at my hip tightly. I ground my hips into his, our mouths both parting in moans at the sensation. He kissed me with more vigor, but I pulled back, slowly, looking down at him.

The apples of his cheeks were blotted pink, and his blue eyes were dark and hooded, lips kiss swollen and red, wet from my tongue. Heat flashed harshly in my core, my body trembling above his.

I lowered myself, lips meeting his as he stretched up to meet me, this kiss slower than the last, more languid. The cinnamon taste was less pronounced tonight, but still there in the corner of his mouth and lips. I chased it, my mind fogging until no thoughts were able to make it through except please and more.

He pushed on my shoulder, hooking his leg around mine and rolling us so that he was on top. He bit on my bottom lip, too hard, and I bucked my hips at the sensation, groaning. He swiped his tongue over the bite mark and sucked my lip into his mouth, releasing it with a pop to trail wet kisses down my neck and the tops of my breasts.

He fisted one hand in my tangled hair, the other in the sheets next to me as he jutted his hips and curse words fell from his lips. His mouth continued to tug and lick and bite at the sensitive skin, a softly bruising trail down my neck and collarbone, weaving down my chest. I was nothing but fiery sensations, all desperation, and pleas beneath his warm body. I hated the jeans we wore, separating us. My eyes nearly rolled in the back of my head when his tongue swiped across my bottom lip, recapturing me in a demanding kiss. I moved my hands, gripping at his shoulders, sliding them down his arms. I wanted to feel everything and know everything.

He was leaving. And I wanted so much more.

He pulled away, gasping for air. He rested his forehead against mine, both of us panting. I could see the different shades of brown his freckles made across the bridge of his nose. I couldn’t believe it had been these stupid freckles that had enraptured me that first day we’d met.

Three months. Possibly the slowest three months I’d ever lived through, while simultaneously passing the quickest. His lips were still bruised pink, and they spread into a wide smile. My own mouth tingled from the proximity. Then, his lips spread a bit further, and he was laughing, loudly, and I couldn’t stop my chest from bubbling and my own laughter joining in.

He fell next to me, our shoulders touching and shaking as we laughed. I wrapped an arm around his waist, my whole body shaking with the effort to keep my laughter in.

After a minute or so, we both quieted down, our boisterous laughter shifting to occasional chuckles. We grinned at each other, a bit stupidly, and I reached out, swiping my thumb against his bottom lip before cupping his face gently. He leaned into the touch, his smile pressed against my palm.

“We’re good at that,” he joked. I let out another chuckle, my chest still heaving a bit. He turned to his side, wrapping an arm around my waist, and pressing his face into the crook of my neck, sighing contently. “This, too.”

“Mhmm,” I hummed my agreement, shuffling a bit to bury my face in his curls. His arm was heavy on me, warmth spreading out from it to fill me entirely. Grayson let out a yawn and pressed his lips to my neck, a quick kiss.

“Night,” he mumbled, burrowing a bit closer. I tightened the grip I had around his waist, hugging him closer. I shifted so I could drop a kiss on his chest.

“Night,” I said back, quietly. My eyes were heavy, and I let them drop, drifting off to sleep easily, the tightrope in my chest completely unraveled and my thoughts cleared, the light of the moon peering in from the window.