them go.”
Grayson grins and shakes his head. It’s his new go-to move when I ramble about random things. It might be about my romance novel or the drink Corbin let me create all on my own at Fireside or the sex toy party that I got invited to and came home with a butt plug party favor.
It’s been an interesting six weeks.
I push the butt plug out of my brain and shiver.
Grayson leans forward, resting his powerful forearms on the table. “You really just love the hero because he’s me.”
“He’s not you.” I roll my eyes to distract him because we both know he’s right. My hero, Blake Stone, is based on Grayson.
Anna comes to our table with her trademark cheerleader smile. “How are you guys tonight?”
“We’re good,” I say, waving off her offer of a menu. “I want a chef’s salad with honey mustard and tell whoever’s working to put some extra egg on there, okay?”
“Yup.” She looks at Grayson. “What about you?”
“Loaded pizza.”
“Large?”
He nods.
She laughs.
He rolls his eyes. “Two Cokes, please.”
“Got it. I’ll be back,” Anna says and walks away.
I look at Grayson and just smile. I can’t help it.
I’m so happy that I can’t see straight.
Honestly, what’s made me happiest of all is … me. It’s knowing myself. It’s feeling comfortable in my skin. It’s being okay with the things that made me insecure before.
I may never be a red lipstick or thong kind of girl. The thought of a butt plug might always make me squirm. And not necessarily in a good way. I might not have these massive ideas for my life and be content being a bartender and a romance writer—God willing, but that’s perfect if that’s what I want.
Before I fell in love with Grayson, I thought the problems I was having with the world were because I didn’t understand men. Come to find out that it was really that I didn’t understand myself.
That’s the secret to happiness. He’s taught me that. I’ve taught him things too.
We’re not in each other’s pockets, and as much as I love hiking with him … and some of the benefits that bring… he still goes out on his own excursions while I goof off with Kaylee. And then he comes home and cuddles with me while I watch the outdoor adventure channel.
Compromises. We’re really good at that. I think we’ve both learned, too, that life is better, more exciting, when you do things to make someone else happy.
Except fishing. I hate it so much.
“I tripped over your bag this morning and almost broke my fucking neck,” he says, ignoring Natalia sashaying her way down the aisle beside our table.
I’m not sure he even sees her.
“Sorry. I met Kaylee for breakfast this morning and got ready in a hurry. I forgot to move it out of the way. I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”
The corner of his lip twitches. “I have a way to guarantee it.”
I lean forward too. “Oh, really? Do tell.”
A shadow creeps across his face. He begins to bite his bottom lip—something I’ve learned is a tell that he’s nervous. It’s adorable when I think he’s nervous about something that has nothing to do with me. When it involves me, I start biting mine too.
“Stop it,” he says, reaching over and popping my lip from between my teeth.
“You started it.”
He grumbles under his breath.
“Anyway …” I prod.
“Anyway, I was thinking that maybe, you know, you could move in with me.”
I lean forward even more. I think my eyeballs might fall out of my head.
“What?” I ask.
“I mean, your lease is coming up, right?”
I nod, still unsure that I heard him right.
“And you’re at my place all the time,” he notes.
I nod again because apparently, that’s all I can do.
“It just makes sense. It’ll save money and keep me from tripping over your shit because you can put it in the fucking closet.” He grins. “But only if you want to.”
Of course, I want to. Has he lost his mind?
But before I go all-out in celebration of this massive milestone in our relationship, I slow down like a proper adult. This is something else I’ve learned lately.
I take a deep breath. “Are you sure? And I only ask because six weeks ago, you were telling me how much you loved your resources or some dumb shit. How you valued your time and energy and space and yada yada yada. Now, here you are, asking me to invade every bit of your personal area,