Inevitable - Kristen Granata Page 0,25
When Mom died, I was a senior in high school. I lost myself for a while. I’d get drunk, disappear for days at a time, come home bloody and bruised from picking fights with random men twice my size. Jen pulled me out of it.”
“How?”
His chest rises and falls as he finds my hand and laces our fingers together. “She went looking for me one night after I’d been gone for a few days. She went to a bad part of town, and the wrong people found her.”
His hand squeezes mine, and I squeeze back, letting him know I’m here for him.
“Someone raped her. Pulled her into an alley and forced himself on her. She got hurt because of me. When I finally went back home and found out what happened, I ... I just couldn’t believe it. Someone hurt my little sister because I was selfish and only thinking about myself. I knew I had to make a change.”
I lift my head and turn to face him, clutching his hand. “Graham, you cannot blame yourself for that. The only person who should be blamed is the guy who did that to her.”
He shrugs, and I know he doesn’t believe me. “The only good thing that came of it was Gwennie. Jen kept the baby, against my father’s wishes, and now she has the most amazing little girl.” Graham’s smile is bittersweet. “You’d like her. She’s a little spitfire, just like you.”
“I’d love to meet her one day.”
Graham’s eyes meet mine. “I’d love that.”
Love.
The word alone raises goosebumps along my skin. Is that what this is? My head screaming at me to run while my heart pulls me toward him, my body on fire in his presence. Sitting here together in my room, a place no one other than my closest friends have been, sharing our deepest stories of pain and truth, exposing who we really are, and taking comfort in one another ... it sure feels a lot like what I’ve imagined love to be. I’ve never felt it before.
No one’s ever given me a reason to believe that it exists.
“What?” Graham tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “What’s going on inside that beautiful head?”
I think I’m falling in love with you.
Do I tell him?
What if he doesn’t feel the same?
What if he does?
“Graham, I ...” I swallow the emotion lodged in my throat, and try to push out the words.
But I don’t have to, because Graham’s lips crash into mine.
Strong and powerful, his kiss sucks all the air out of my lungs. I’m caught off-guard, but it doesn’t take long for realization to set in. His lips move against mine, velvety soft and warm. I kiss him like he’s water and I’ve been stuck in the desert for over a century.
I climb onto his lap and straddle him, taking his face into my hands to pull him closer. He grips the back of my head, fisting handfuls of my hair, holding me right where he wants me. My lips part and my tongue snakes out in search of his. We both groan when his tongue wraps around mine, deepening our kiss.
Our mouths move in sync, hot and wet, giving and taking, slow and consuming. There’s no relief, no sense of, “Finally!” There’s only want and more and now. The longer we kiss, the more frantic we become.
Graham tears my T-shirt up and over my head, and I claw at his until he reaches behind his neck and yanks it off. Our lips quickly come back together, unable to bear the mere seconds they were apart. My bare chest presses flush against his and my skin burns from the contact.
I’m moaning, he’s grunting, our kiss a primal force. He’s rock-hard underneath me, and I roll my hips to create the friction I’m so desperate for. His hands fly to my ass, rocking me back and forth on top of him, pushing and pulling, taking control, taking what he needs.
“Yes, Graham.” My voice is breathy and needy. “Take me, please.”
But my words have the effect of a cold bucket of water.
Graham’s movements still, and his lips break away from mine. Panting, he closes his eyes. “God, Eva. I want you so bad.”
I tilt his chin until he looks at me. “You have me, Graham. I want you too. We don’t have to stop.”
He releases a frustrated breath and moves me off of him, his eyes pleading. “I can’t. Not like this. Not while I’m working for your father.”
“Is