19. Delilah

Chapter 19

Delilah

S o tired and over worked, I fall asleep again, only waking to eat a few dry crackers Grey coerces me to eat. I vaguely take notice of the golden glow coming from my lamp, highlighting the book splayed open across Grey's lap, while I chew slowly, swallow and then close my eyes again.

When I wake for the third time, it's to the noise of my blaring alarm, reminding me to get up for another day in the office.

"Take a sick day if you need it," Grey suggests beside me, voice raspy and deep from sleep.

I look over at him; a line of sleep creasing his cheek, eyes only half cracked open.

My head is no longer pounding, my body feels refreshed, and usually I'd risk it; go into the office and pretend everything is fine, as always, even if my body isn't fully recovered.

But today…

Grasping Grey's hand from where it's splayed out over my stomach, I kiss his knuckles and then grab my phone.

For the first time in my life, I ring in sick, and then hang up, smoothing my hand over the edge of my duvet as I wonder what on earth I'm going to do with my day.

"Think you could try and keep down some breakfast, gorgeous?"

My stomach rumbles at the thought. "Maybe."

"I'll go whip us something up. You stay there."

Grey pecks at my lips, tumbling from the bed in nothing but his underwear.

It feels strange to still be in bed, at home, knowing I would usually be up and getting dressed. Even more weird, I can hear a clatter of cupboards opening and closing, the hissing boil of my kettle, in my otherwise usually silent apartment, reminding me I'm not alone.

But I don't dislike it. Not at all… quite the opposite, actually.

I nip to the toilet quickly when my bladder protests staying beneath the sheets for much longer, lingering in the hallway to watch Grey's silhouette standing in front of the fridge. With his back to me, I'm free to look for as long as I want, although I get a distinct feeling that even if he did turn around right now and caught me checking him out… I wouldn't be able to deny it, nor stop myself.

His lean muscles bunch as he reaches for something, causing my eyes to stay focused there for a second too long, before I'm trailing down the rest of his trim body.

The way his black briefs cling to his pert arse should be fucking illegal.

As are his defined calf muscles, all sculpted from hours and hours of swimming.

It's not lost on me that I'd watched Grey like this the first time we'd met; me sitting on the bed in the infirmary room, soaking wet, the graze on my upper thigh stinging like a bitch, Grey with his back to me while he rummaged around the medical cupboards for a tube of antiseptic.

My eyes had glossed over him, taking stock of how attractive he was.

Even then, there'd been something about him.

Something that made my heart race.

And this time is no different, except for the fact he's standing in my kitchen, preparing me breakfast after having looked after me all night.

Cocking my head, I wipe the corner of my mouth with my thumb to check I'm not drooling. My nipples stiffen, rubbing pleasantly against the silk fabric of my camisole. While my core grows heavy, a stab of desire shooting through me.

"You gonna stay there all day watching me, Delilah?"

I raise my eyes to Grey's, the side of my lips cocking up. "Maybe... You going to stop me?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," I say, wondering if I should spit out the words on the tip of my tongue. Test the waters or take the plunge? "I can look at what's mine, can't I?"

Take the plunge it is.

"I'm yours, am I, gorgeous?"

My heart pitter patters in my chest, while I nod silently, squeezing my legs together to allow myself a small reprieve from the heat gathering at the apex of my thighs.

"Well, that works out, doesn't it? Because your mine, Delilah. Always have been. Now, get back to bed."

I scurry to the bathroom, quickly brush my teeth, and then crawl back into bed, opening my blinds to allow in the sunlight as I go.

Grey appears a minute later, a wooden tray I used once as a centrepiece before storing it away and forgetting about it, clutched between in his grasp. He places it gently onto my lap, rescuing the two cups of tea before they can slosh over the sides.

"I thought tea might be better than coffee, I didn't think caffeine would be the best idea for recovering after a migraine."

Careful not to tip the tray, I pull him down for a kiss. "It's perfect, thank you."

I pick up the spoon beside my bowl of yogurt, granola, and berries, digging in and crunching down happily.

"No one's ever done anything like this for me before," I say in between bites, feeling juvenile as the truth spills from my lips. I'm twenty-five for crying out loud, I've been in love before, or at least what I thought was love… surely someone should have bought me breakfast in bed at least once.

Grey peers at me over his own granola bowl. "Would it be really feeding into the toxic masculinity culture if I admitted I like being the first one?"

I can't help the way my lips curve up into a pleased smile. Grey doesn't make me feel weird about the situation, or singled out, instead he reminds me it's okay to still be experiencing first times in life no matter your age.

Plus, now he's said it, I do like the sound of him being my first.

When I tell him as such, Grey's answering grin matches mine.

We talk about a little of everything while we eat; how strange it feels for me not to be in the office right now, how Grey's Sunday family dinner went, what time he starts work on this fine Wednesday.

I'm about to ask him if he's gotten to my favourite scene in the book I saw him reading last night while I slept, but then his phone is chiming and Grey is swiping to read his incoming text message.

"Who is it?"

The question slips from me, hitting the atmosphere and splitting into a million tiny shards.

"Sorry, that was personal, you don't have to—"

"It's just Hudson." Grey turns his phone around so I can see the thread of messages between two of the Millen brothers. "He says we're out of milk…Well, go buy some then."

I snort into the rim of my tea, wondering if Hudson looks anything like his older brother because he certainly doesn't act like him.

"Do you look alike?"

"Who? Me and Hudson?"

I nod.

A quick swipe of his thumb and then Grey is handing me his phone, a high-definition photo lit up on the screen.

Christ.

The Millen brothers are an attractive bunch.

I spot Grey instantly wearing a simple pair of denim jeans and a long-sleeved green t-shirt; with dimpled cheeks, a beaming smile and his arms slung around the two men on either side of him.

"That's Blake." Grey points out the brother on his left. The two men are around about the same height, both lean and trim, while the other two brothers are more muscular.

In the photo, Blake smiles too, with a matching dimple in one of his cheeks and straight white teeth. His hair appears long than Grey's, curling behind his ears, but with his friendly, approachable look there's no denying the blood bond between him and Grey.

"And that's Noah." The oldest Millen brother, and the shortest – although how can you call someone who's still a solid six foot, short – stands in the front, smiling close mouthed, a gold wedding band glinting from his ring finger.

"He's married?"

"Yeah. Him and Faith have been married for four or five years now."

"So, I'm guessing this is Hudson."

Grey bobs his head. "Yep."

Hudson stands taller than his other three brothers, his tattooed, muscular arms crossed and practically bursting from the sleeves of his black t-shirt. He's unsmiling, but the flash from the camera has managed to pick up the silent twinkling in his eyes, highlighting his happiness at being surrounded by the ones he loves the most.

He's not my type, a bit too big and burly for me, but he's still attractive. With a swoop of chocolate brunette hair, a slightly crooked nose and a beard coating his lower jaw.

I can see how he'd be a hit with the ladies.

Blake too, although there's something a little bit quieter about him.

"Think we look alike?"

"Yeah, there's definitely a family resemblance. Something… striking about you all."

"You mean handsome?"

I swat at Grey's upper arm, his loud ribbon of laughter wrapping itself comfortably around my heart.