34. Macy

Chapter 34

Macy

I blink away from the pages of my book when I hear Grayson's voice. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

I sit up and cross my legs. I never went home. I waited on the hood of his car, assuming he'd come to his senses, but hours ticked by, so I went inside to grab my current read to pass the time.

He's standing above me with a suitcase at his feet and a duffle bag in his hand.

"Do you want to know why I was in your bedroom the morning you found me holding the picture of your family?"

He doesn't respond.

"Because I needed to see you," I say. "I spent a month on this island trying to mend something within myself, so I could remember how to love my fiancé." I look at the stars and the moon, and then at him. "Instead, I found you, and you showed me that there was nothing about me that needed mending in the first place."

His eyebrows pull together, and his gaze doesn't waver from mine.

I slide off his car and stand before him. "My heart calls to yours. Don't you feel it?" I ask, pressing the palm of my hand to his chest, which beats in perfect sync to my own. Fast like we've been running. As though he's chasing me. But now he's trying to run from me. "I felt it since we were kids, and again the moment I ran into you at the airport."

"Please—" He looks down at his suitcase like he might make a run for it before he can hear another word from my lips.

"I hated you for it. I didn't want to feel for you. I wanted to fall for the person who gave me a ring in an ugly parking lot. I wanted it to be simple, because loving you wouldn't be." I drag my hand up his chest and around the back of his neck. "I got a sand dollar tattooed on my skin because the memories I had with you are one of the only ones I felt alive for. I've hardly felt the blood in my veins for eighteen years, but now, every day is thrilling because you're in my life." I close my eyes for a moment, and then whisper, "It means something that against all odds, I found you again. Everything I've ever wanted, every dream I've dreamed is you . How can you explain that every love story I've written feels like ours? Even the men I've created from my own thoughts are passionate, kind, and respectful like you." I think for a moment, then whisper, "If you can explain all of this with reason, then I'll let you leave." I look into his eyes and say, "But you want to know what I've concluded?"

His gaze pours into mine, but he doesn't move.

"I am yours, and you are mine."

His duffle bag slams against the pebbled driveway and then I am wrapped in arms of steel. His warm breath touches my lips and something electric flashes down my spine. His grip slides up my back and around the base of my head. "I thought heaven was a place that couldn't exist on Earth," he says. A tear slides down my cheek and falls to the places we touch. "I despised heaven and hated how there wasn't a staircase that could lead me there," he breathes. "I know heaven is a place, but it can also be a person." He steps closer until the backs of my legs are pressed against his car, and he holds me like he'll never let go. "You are my heaven, Mace." I lean on the tips of my toes and kiss the words on his lips. "A day never passes where I don't think of them. I can't tell you how many times I've wished to be up there too, but I don't anymore, because I'm happy where I am. Right here beside you." He pulls away to say, "But I don't deserve you."

"You do."

"I don't." He looks away and his jaw ticks. "I'm a wreckage and it's only a matter of time before I take you down with me. I'm broken and you can't fix me."

"You aren't broken," I say in a sad voice.

"I am."

"You were traumatized," I say. "You lost everything in a single day. You learned the very worst of this world, but I promise you, Grayson, I will show you the beauty. But you have to let me. You have to trust that I can lead you there."

"I'm scared," he whispers in a gravelly voice. "I can't lose you too."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"What if something happens to you too?" He sniffs and says with eyebrows pulled together "I. Won't. Survive."

I don't know my fate, and I certainly can't promise it. "Be scared, Grayson, but live your life alongside it. Wouldn't you rather have a lifetime of memories instead of wondering what your life could have been?" I take a moment to think, and then say, "Make memories with me. Be happy."

"God, I love you," he whispers in a sincere voice. His eyes widen and he tenses like he realizes what he's just said. "You don't have to say anythi?—"

I kiss him with a smile on my lips. "I've fallen in love twice during this lifetime, and both times it was with you, Daniel Grayson." I pull back so he can see the words curling on my tongue. "I love you."

With parted lips and glistening eyes, I know this is the real him. Without his protective mask. He's purely himself when he says, "I loved you before you ran into me at the airport. Before I even saw your head in the crowd. I've fallen in love with you over and over for eighteen summers."

The light from his front porch goes out at this very second, flooding us in darkness. I can't see him when his lips press into mine. I let out a sound which he takes as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. I gasp at the feel of his hands on the back of my thighs lifting me on the hood of his car. He lays me against the hard surface and kisses me in all the right places. I gasp when he lifts my shirt and squeezes my breasts until I'm writhing beneath him. "I love the sounds you make," he rasps.

It's the middle of the night. No one is out here, and if they were, they couldn't see us. It's nearly pitch black. "Can I take these off?" he whispers, thumbing the hem of my jeans.

"Yes please."

He pulls them down hastily, and I hear the ruffle of him removing his own. "I need you," I say desperately. My back tries to arch to get closer to him, and he quickly lays his weight on top of me, which I fear will dent his car. Before I can give it anymore thought, he thrusts into me in one quick motion and presses his lips against my mouth to stifle the sound I release.

"Grayson." I say his name like it's a prayer. With his lips touching mine, we share the same breath. It's like we're one.

His car squeaks beneath us. My hands find their way beneath his shirt, fingernails digging into his back when my breath becomes sporadic. I feel myself tighten around him while he spills inside of me. His soft lips press firmly against mine to quiet the sounds of us coming undone together. Silence falls over us while we catch our breaths, the sound of crickets in the distance.

"I am so in love with you," he whispers.

Sometime later, when laying on the hood of his car becomes uncomfortable, we pull our clothes up and Grayson carries me inside his house. He drops me onto the sofa, peppering my face with dozens of kisses. He pulls away from me to grab his bags from out front.

Once he's back, I say, "Were you really going to leave?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, then joins me on the couch, making the cushion dip beneath his weight. "It seemed like the right thing to do."

"It would've broken my heart," I whisper.

"I thought I was protecting you from that. That's all I want for you. Is to be safe and happy."

I lift my chin. "I can handle myself."

"I know you can. I just like to pretend I'm useful in that department." He jokes.

"Everything that happened tonight really put into perspective how much you've been hurting." I crawl toward him and rest my head on his chest.

We are both quiet for a while, as if we've been pulled into our own thoughts. "Macy," he says. "Everyone is going to think I'm a nutjob."

I lean my head up and meet his gaze. "No one is going to think that."

He tilts his head and glances up at me with a look that says bullshit.

"Our friends won't think that." Our friends. "They will understand when you're ready to tell them. And anyone else who might think that isn't important enough to know what really happened tonight. They don't matter."

"Macy."

"Yes?"

He inhales a deep breath, and slowly releases it. "Will you tell them for me?"

"If that's what you want."

"I do," he says. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you shouldn't begin any relationship telling lies. Including friendships."

"It's not a lie, Grayson. And we can wai?—"

"I already met them," he says. "Delilah and I came to dinner one night at Elliot's grandma's house."

I dig through my memory, and then I see it. The six of us went swimming after the sunset and got in trouble with our parents. Despite the lecture about sharks feeding at dusk, we had the time of our lives. "I remember that night." My lips split into a smile. After a few moments, I say, "Whatever you decide, I'll support you," I say.

"Actually," he says. "I'll tell them myself."

My brave man. I press a kiss to his lips. He rubs circles on my back, and we slowly drift to sleep from the exhaustion of everything that occurred.

The sharp sound of shattering glass pierces my ears. I look around in a daze, still on Grayson's couch. I spot him standing perfectly still in the kitchen. He wears workout shorts and nothing else, staring at the wall instead of the tiny pieces of glass scattered across the floor.

I clear my throat. "Is everything…okay?"

He nods his head slightly.

I make my way to him. I step over the shards of what once was a plate, and stand directly before him, pressing my palm against his cheek. A bead of sweat drips from his temple onto my hand. Did he just go for a run? I glance at the time on the microwave and see it's just past seven in the morning.

As if he just recognized I am standing before him, his eyes widen, and his hands reach for my waist. I'm lifted in the air and set on the kitchen counter. "There's glass!" he all but shouts the words at me.

"I know," I whisper. "I stepped over it."

He doesn't seem to hear, because he crouches before me, not bothering to look on the ground for glass before kneeling. He lifts my left foot, inspects it thoroughly, then the right. When he stands, there are small shards of glass in his knee. "Grayson!" I point to the blood that's beginning to well. He looks around the room for a threat, his eyes alert.

"Look down ."

Once he sees the scarlet running down his shins, he shrugs. "Oh," he says. "I'll be fine."

I move carefully around the glass and then step into his sneakers by the front door. They are about seven sizes too big for my feet, but they serve their purpose as I clean the shards with a dustpan and broom.

I lead him to the couch, he willingly obliges. I kneel in front of him with a paper plate, carefully pulling out the small pieces. I press a paper towel to the blood. His eyes are unseeing, as though he's someplace else entirely. Like he's stumbled into a thought he can't escape.

My stomach sinks. "Grayson?"

Nothing.

"You're scaring me," I whisper.

Then his gaze slowly drags down to me. "What's wrong? Why are you scared?" His eyes seem to inspect my body, as though he's searching for injuries.

"I'm fine. What are you thinking?" I ask. His eyes pour into mine, yet they don't truly see me. "Are you drunk?" The sun has hardly risen.

He flinches and shakes his head no. He blinks a few times at me, his eyebrows pulling together at the sight of me on the floor, like he's just noticed. He grabs me beneath my arms and pulls me onto the couch.

"Please talk to me," I say, curling into myself on the other end of the sofa.

He sighs and clenches his jaw. "I think I'm having an anxiety attack."

I tilt my head and take him in. He's very still. Not even shaking. I've had few anxiety attacks in my life, the most recent was when my grandparents passed away. They tend to make me feel as though I'm a second from death, like my lungs will stop accepting oxygen or my heart will explode.

"I keep having these thoughts…" he says. "God, it's so morbid, but I picture you dying, Mace. Over and over. It feels as though it's truly happening. I'm grieving you, yet you're sitting right beside me." His voice stumbles and breaks over the words . "I had nightmares all night, so I went for a run to clear my head but this feeling in my stomach keeps gnawing at me." He takes a deep breath. "It feels like I finally have you after years of pining for you from the window, yet I'll never be able to grasp onto you. Like one moment you'll be in my arms, and the next you'll slip away. Like if I allow myself to fully surrender to happiness, everything will be taken from me once again. Losing you is my biggest fear, and my mind likes to constantly remind me."

I digest every word and imagine a world where every good thing is tainted by the fear of losing it. "That sounds awful."

He lets out a huff of air. "That night at the inn," he says. "When we stopped pretending for the first time, that's when it began. When I finally allowed myself to indulge in everything I feel for you, it felt like the world around me was speeding up and I needed to grab every second spent with you. I told myself I needed to memorize every expression flickering across your face. The sound of your laugh and the words you spoke. I needed to remember because—" he slowly gathers himself to say, "If you left this world before me, I would want to have every moment memorized, down the fallen eyelash on your cheek. I think of a world absent of you and try to survive the idea by capturing enough memories to supply me the rest of my days."

The only thing I know is it makes perfect sense for him to feel this way after what he went through, but I have no idea how to help him. I move closer, the couch cushions dip beneath my weight. I squeeze his hand three times. I love you.

"I don't want to be this for you." He gestures to himself. "I want to be a man you feel safe with. A man who can give you everything you deserve."

"You're everything I want and need, Daniel Grayson."

"Maybe you'd be better off withou?—"

"No." I interrupt. "I'm better with you."

"Mace—"

"Quit trying to end this because you think you're undeserving of someone who can love you when times are hard or something. Because I'm staying, Grayson. You're not getting rid of me, so stop."

"Okay," he says in a quiet voice. "Just so you know, if times ever get tough for you, I'll be everything you need too."

"I know."