Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,350

oh my God.” She laughs, and it does sound nervous, unsure, which she’s never been. What we’ve been through changed me, and it changed her, maybe in ways I wasn’t prepared for, but our vows didn’t come with conditions, and neither does my love.

Ask me when your belly is full like the moon,

and our love has stretched your body with my child, Leaving your skin, once flawless,

now silvered, traced, scarred, I will worship you.

My eyes will never stray. My heart will never wander,

gladly leashed to you all my days. I am fixed on you.

It’s all still true and always will be. I couldn’t have known to write about losing that child, about losing bits and pieces of ourselves. You don’t see things like that coming, and you have no idea how it will affect you. You can only choose the right person, the person you want to go through shit with. Bristol is that person for me. I’ve always known she could endure anything life threw at her, that she would fight right alongside me. There’s always been a strength in her, but now it’s titanium core.

“I’m not nervous because nothing has changed,” I tell her, bending to align our eyes, our lips, our hearts.

“Things have changed.” She lowers her lashes, trying to hide from me. “My body and—”

“I love your body because it has you in it.” I drag my lips over the curve of her jaw, groaning at the taste of her along the way. “Sweet Jesus, Bristol. How could you think anything has changed for me?”

“Not just physically.” She glances up at me. “I don’t feel the same.”

At those words, my heart stumbles in my chest. A tundra inches over my whole body.

“About . . . me?” I can’t regulate my breathing. “You don’t feel the same about me?”

“Oh, God, no. Not that, Grip.” She reaches up to touch the side of my face, her eyes earnest. “I feel the same about you. You know I’m . . . it’s just . . . I’m all over the place. I’ve always been uninhibited with you, and now I feel caged, like I’ve had to keep my emotions on such a short leash lately, and there’s something in me that’s not free.”

She spreads her hands and shakes her head, helplessness in the look she aims up at me.

“I’m not doing a good job of articulating this, but I’m—”

My phone cuts her off, and I want to hurl it and Amir across the room.

“Dude, what the hell do you want?” I snap.

“Put your dick up and get down here,” Amir replies calmly, used to me. “Unless you want to be late and leave Iz hanging.”

Shit. Have I mentioned that I hate Amir?

“Oh, and I got you a brace,” he says. “A brace? For what?”

“That carpal tunnel.” His deep chuckle taunts me and my stiff dick and my sore wrist.

“Fuck you.” I hang up and turn to Bristol. “Car’s ready. You sure you want to go?”

“There’s no way you’re going—”

“A simple yes would suffice.” I grab her hand, pausing to let her scoop up her clutch from the side table.

The town hall is being held at that same bookstore, and it’s being televised again. The magnitude of this hits me as I’m riding in the back of the SUV, cramming like this is some quiz.

“I’m not Iz,” I mumble, caressing Bristol’s hand absently while Googling stats on my phone. “Ford’s gonna eat me alive.”

“Ford will wish he was facing Iz tonight instead of you.” Bristol stretches her eyes at the skeptical look I offer in response to that bit of ridiculousness. “I’m serious. Iz may have the degree and the books and the credibility and the—”

“Let me know when you get to the reassuring part, babe.”

“And all those things.” She pauses, leaning her head onto my shoulder. “But you have passion. You’re brilliant. You know these issues. You’ve lived these issues. Just tell them what you know, what you’ve experienced.”

Her confidence soothes my tattered nerves, and her reassurances give me peace in a way no one else can. She’s always done that. Her eyes glow with pride and love and confidence in me. This feels like us. It’s been months since we felt like us, since there’s been any ease around us, between us. Maybe it’s being in a different city. Maybe it’s knowing we’re rounding a bend with Dr. Wagner loosening the chastity belt. Whatever it is, it feels good. For the first time since Zoe died, it feels