Page 30 of From Coast to Coast
The moment we step out I take a deep breath, tipping my head back and reveling in the cold night air on my face and in my lungs. Grayson’s no longer touching my shoulder, but I know he’s still behind me. I keep walking forward, away from the building, until I’m far enough away that I can’t see the walls in my periphery.Slow, deep breaths. Time to calm down.
Bending over and resting my hands on my knees, I close my eyes and try to fight back the claustrophobia. Grayson is so silent I might have forgotten he was there if I wasn’t so damn responsive to him. My skin prickles with awareness, the sweat cooling rapidly in the evening air. Eventually, I straighten back up and turn around to face him, trying like hell not to feel embarrassed. He’s standing there, hands in his pockets, calmly watching me.
“Sorry about that,” I apologize. “I’m a little claustrophobic and it got away from me for a second.”
“No need to be sorry,” he says, voice deep and masculine, and way sexier than the voice of the guy I’ve been grinding on all night. “Do you want me to step back inside and get you some water?”
“Nah, I’m good now. Just needed to get out of therebefore I was crushed to death by the walls. You noticed they were moving, right?”
His lips quirk up into a smile. “You know, Ididnotice that. Good thing we got out when we did.”
“Too bad Zolkov got left behind. Can’t save ’em all.”
Grayson laughs and the sound zings through me like a jolt of electricity. He removes one hand from his pocket and uses it to scratch idly at the opposite forearm. Big hands and dark hair on his forearms—also sexier than the guy I was dancing with.Jesus Christ, what is happening to me?
“Were you having fun, though?” he asks, in a slightly more wary tone of voice. It’s dark out here, but light enough for me to see the way his eyes keep dipping below mine and trailing down my chest.
“Uh, yeah,” I hedge. “I was having a good time.”
He laughs again, louder this time, tipping his head back and exposing the long line of his neck, lightly speckled with five o’clock shadow. When he looks back at me, his eyes are shining.
“Remy, that was the most unconvincing thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, Gray, this has been an eye-opening experience in many ways.” I pause, enjoying the easy way he’s grinning at me, hands tucked back into his pockets and shoulders relaxed. “First off: I am definitely not into guys. Absolutely no action.” I wave my hand around my crotch. “Even though I was being dry-humped for four songs.”
“Well,” Grayson says, but doesn’t take it any farther, evidently unsure of what else to say.
“The second thing I realized? Remember before, when I told you I thought maybe I was only attracted toyou? Yeah, that’s true. That is definitely, unequivocally,no doubt about it, the truth.” I pause, giving Grayson a moment to process this information before I continue. “So, yeah, the experiment failed, I guess. I’m straight until I can find myself a giant, off-limits hockey player.”
“Remy...”
I hold up my hands. “I know, Gray, I know.”
Silence, other than the thumping music from the club, which can be heard even out here. Grayson looks away from me, turning his head to the side and biting his lip as he stares out across the parking lot. I pick at my shirt, cold now that all my sweat has dried and I’m no longer feeling claustrophobic.
“I’ve never been a casual-sex kind of guy. I think I’m a serial monogamist at heart,” Grayson says, drawing my gaze back to his with a snap.
“So was I until I separated from Amanda. Then I pretty much had sex with any girl who approached me in a bar,” I admit. His mouth curls into a small, amused smile.
“That’s what you’re looking for, then, I’m assuming? You want to get your dick wet in the gay end of the pool? And then what?” He doesn’t sound pissed or even annoyed. Just curious, like he’s trying to figure me out.
“Shit, I don’t know. Alex tells me the number one rule post-divorce is to not make any big life decisions. No shotgun marriages, no career changes, no spending all of your savings on fancy sports cars.”
“Alex?”
“My best friend and lawyer. He’s also the one who suggested that I should try new things to liven up my sex life.” I wave a hand toward the club and then at Grayson. “And so, here we are.”
“Got it. So—just to clarify—if you and I sleep together,you’re not going to fall in love with me, marry me, or make career decisions for me.” He takes a couple of slow steps toward me, stopping when he’s little more than an arm’s distance away. “And no gay panic?”
I laugh, taking a step of my own toward Grayson. We’re close enough now that I can smell him. Close enough that I notice he’s re-buttoned two of the buttons on his shirt.
“Nope, no gay panic from me. I was raised a good old California boy—love is love.”
“Mm,” Grayson hums. The air feels alive between us, crackling with energy as though it’s about to thunderstorm. There is so little distance between us now, I have to tip my head back to keep my eyes on his. If I were to look straight ahead, all I’d see would be those buttons he’s done up. Maybe I should loosen them again.
When Grayson’s fingers touch the bare skin of my neck, his skin feels shockingly warm compared to the cool of the night. His palm rests gently where the curve of my throat meets my shoulder, fingers curling around to my nape. After one slow stroke, his thumb goes still. My heart is thrumming wildly and my body sways toward his, blindly seeking more contact. I want that other hand on me.
“I thought this was a bad idea?” I whisper.