Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,347

it easier for me. I’d do anything to stop your pain, but I can’t seem to find the solution. I only know that if we’re together, there is one. Grief counseling, therapy, whatever it takes—I just need to know at the end, we’ll still have each other.”

I blink, swiping uselessly at my own tears. I’ve been looking for light, and it’s been right here the whole time.

“You can start by just holding me,” I whisper.

“God, yes.” He breathes into my hair and pulls me across his lap, long legs stretched out over the floor. I huddle into the breadth and strength of his chest. How could I have forsaken, forgotten this comfort all along? For long moments, we just hang on to each other, both crying, grieving what we’ve lost and clinging to what we still have. There with my head against his chest, I hear it.

Thump, thump, thump.

His heartbeat. Every day the sound of Zoe’s heartbeat lured me deeper into darkness, but as I wrap my arms around him, the percussive rhythm of his love and devotion and unwavering commitment beating into my ears, I know it’s Grip’s heart that will lead me out.

Chapter 46

Grip

“CAN you get carpal tunnel from severe masturbation?”

Amir glances up from whatever game he’s playing on his phone. “I don’t want to know this,” he answers distractedly.

“No, it’s a real question. I’m gonna WebMD that shit.” I pull out my phone and lean against the kitchen counter in our Tribeca apartment. “It’s like this sharp pain in my wrist whenever I—”

“Man, you broke my concentration.” He scowls down at his phone. “Asking me dumb questions.”

“Remember that Dave Chappelle episode when he was teaching the kids about STDs?” I ask him.

He looks up to catch my eyes, already laughing over the infamous episode.

“I’ll beat my dick like it owes me money,” we quote together. The laughter dies down, but I’m not done teasing him.

“I figure if anybody would know about jerking off too much, it would be you,” I say, shrugging casually, fighting back a grin. “You know, since you never get any.”

“Not that it’s any of your damn business,” Amir says smugly, “but I’m getting plenty, and Shon ain’t complaining.”

“I just threw up.” I point to my mouth. “In here a little bit.”

“You told me about the stuff you and Bristol did all the time.”

“Yeah, but I’m me, and you’re you.” I grab an energy drink from the refrigerator and toss it to him. “You see the difference?”

We both laugh, and it feels good. I laugh less than I used to, not gonna lie. The last month has been the hardest of my life, certainly of my marriage. That day when Bristol cracked the door to let me in, when she read my poem, it was a turning point, but it was just a beginning. It feels like we begin something new every week. Bristol started taking the prescription Dr. Wagner suggested, and her moods stabilized and her hormones evened out some. We’ve been seeing a grief counselor and attending a support group for bereaved parents. Now that we’re back in New York, we’ll have to start with a new group since we’ll be here for the next few months. Another new start—Kai’s starring in her first Broadway show. Bristol is just getting back into the swing of things, and she wanted to base here for a little bit.

“Your little problem should be over soon, right?” Amir raises his brows, gulping down the energy drink.

“My little . . .” Realization hits me, and I offer a frown instead of the smirk he probably expects. “Oh, yeah.”

He knows Bristol had her six-week checkup yesterday, right before we flew to New York, clearing us for takeoff, you could say. I never thought I could go six weeks without sex, but that’s been the least of my problems. I mean, I had to jerk off a lot to function in polite society, but I didn’t mind. I waited years to have Bristol, and I have the rest of my life with her. Six weeks is a drop in the bucket. Do I want her? Hell yeah. Maybe it’s different for guys, or maybe just different for me, but grief doesn’t suppress my sex drive. The fucking Jolly Green Giant could sit on my sex drive and it wouldn’t be suppressed, but it’s been different for Bristol. She’s not the same. She may never be. We may never be.

I feel it, too, that tectonic shift in the fundamental structure