Chapter 129 Don't let me wake up alone
Greyson
The valet seemed to take forever, though it was probably less than three minutes before my car appeared. During those three minutes, I tried to talk myself out of what I was about to do. Cassie was an intelligent, independent woman who could make her own choices. She deserved an evening out; she deserved the attention of a man who could give her the kind of courtship she'd never really received from me.
When I saw them through the restaurant windows Aiden helping her with her coat, his hand lingering on her shoulder longer than strictly necessary—all rational thought abandoned me.
I followed them at a distance as they left the restaurant, Aiden's silver Mercedes pulling out of the parking lot with Cassie in the passenger seat. The drive to her house felt endless, every red light an eternity, every glimpse of their taillights ahead of me a fresh spike of jealousy.
By the time they reached her driveway, I'd parked on the street and was walking through the shadows toward her front door. I could hear their voices, low and intimate in the quiet night air. Then I saw them: standing close together on her doorstep, his head bent toward hers in the unmistakable posture of a goodnight kiss.
The kiss itself was brief, respectful, everything mine never were. But as I watched Aiden step back, saw the way he looked at her like she was something precious he wanted to protect, something inside me snapped.
I waited until his car disappeared before approaching her door. She'd gone inside, but I could see lights on throughout the house, could picture her moving through the spaces we'd shared, perhaps thinking about the man who'd just kissed her. The man who could offer her a future I never could.
When the valet finally arrived with her carI'd made a call, used the kind of connections that opened doors and bent rules I was ready.
Cassie emerged from the house twenty minutes later, clearly intending to put her car in the garage. She was wearing a soft grey matching jogger set with shorts instead of pants, paired with a white tank top underneath. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun with a few strands framing her face, and even in her casual clothes, she looked effortlessly beautiful.
"Excuse me, miss," I said, stepping out of the shadows as she reached for her car door. "I'll be taking the car from here."
She spun around, her hand flying to her chest, eyes wide with surprise and something that might have been fear. "Greyson? What are you,how did you?" She took a step back, her voice shaky. "You scared me half to death."
"Get in the car, Cassie." My voice came out rougher than I'd intended, betraying more of the jealousy and desperation I was trying to control.
"I'm not going anywhere with you when you're acting like this." Her voice was steadier now, but I could see her hands trembling slightly. "You can't just show up here and—"
"You can get in willingly, or I can make a scene that will have your neighbors calling the police. Your choice."
It was a bluff—mostly. I'd never force her into anything, but the threat of public attention was real enough. Cassie valued her privacy, her reputation in the community she'd carefully built for herself.
She studied my face for a long moment, and I saw her expression shift from fear to something else—recognition, maybe, of the wildness I was struggling to contain.
"You're completely insane," she said quietly, but she moved toward the passenger door, her movements deliberate and careful.
The drive was tense and silent. I could smell her familiar scent—that mix of vanilla and something uniquely her that had nothing to do with perfume. Every time she shifted in her seat, every quiet breath she took, only added fuel to the fire burning in my chest.
"How long have you been watching me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Long enough."
"Long enough to see what?" There was a challenge in her voice now, mixed with hurt.
I turned off the engine and faced her fully. "Long enough to see you letting another man court you. Long enough to see you smile at him the way you used to smile at me."
"Greyson."
"Long enough to see him kiss you."
The words hung between us, raw and accusatory. Cassie's eyes widened, and I saw the moment she realized just how far I'd crossed the line.
"You have no right to follow me. No right to spy on me." Her voice was gaining strength, anger replacing the earlier uncertainty.
"I have every right." I was out of the car and around to her side before she could protest further, pulling her door open. "You're mine, Cassie. You've been mine for two years, and one dinner with pretty boy doesn't change that."
"I'm not anyone's property," she said, but she let me help her out of the car, let me walk her to the front door. I noticed she fumbled with her keys, her hands still shaking slightly.
"No," I agreed, my hand finding the small of her back as she finally got the key in the lock. "But you're mine by choice. Tell me that's changed. Tell me one evening with him was enough to erase everything we've built together."
She got the door open and stepped inside, pausing in the entryway. She didn't try to close it in my face, but she didn't invite me in either. I followed anyway.
"It's not about erasing anything," she said, turning to face me. Her jogger shorts had ridden up slightly during our trip, and the tank top hugged her in all the right places. "It's about remembering what it feels like to be someone's priority instead of their secret."
"You are my priority."
"Am I?" She moved toward the kitchen, putting the island between us. "Then where have you been for the past twenty-four hours? Where were you tonight when I was having dinner with another man?"
"Dealing with family business."
"There's always family business, Greyson. There always will be." She turned back to me, and I could see her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Do you know what Aiden asked me tonight? He asked when was the last time you took me somewhere public. When was the last time you introduced me to anyone as your girlfriend instead of just 'a friend.'"
"What did you tell him?"
"I couldn't answer. the truth is, I'm your best kept secret." The admission came out bitter and pained.
I crossed the room in three strides, backing her against the counter. "Then let me remind you why."
My mouth found hers before she could protest, claiming her with all the desperation and possessiveness I'd been fighting all evening. She tensed for a moment, her hands coming up to push against my chest, but then her body betrayed her. Her lips parted under mine, her arms wound around my neck, and she was kissing me back with matching hunger.
"This is what you remember," I said against her mouth, my hands framing her face. "This is what he can't give you."
"Greyson—" She was breathless, her cheeks flushed.
"Did he make your pulse race when he looked at you? Did he make you forget everything else existed?" I trailed kisses along her jaw, finding the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Did he make you feel like you might combust if he didn't touch you?"
"That's not fair," she breathed, but her head fell back, giving me better access.
"Nothing about this is fair." I lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs. "But it's real. Whatever you felt with him tonight the safety, the simplicity, the promise of being someone's actual girlfriend—it's not this. This is what we have."
Her grey shorts had ridden up, and the white tank top had shifted, revealing more of her collarbone. I could see her pulse fluttering rapidly at the base of her throat.
"He could give me a normal relationship," she said, but her hands were already working at the buttons of my shirt.
"You don't want normal." I caught her hands, holding them still. "You want this. You want the intensity, even if it comes with complications."
"I hate that you know me so well," she whispered, but her body was already leaning into mine.
"I know." I released her hands, sliding them up to rest on my chest. "But you know me too. You know this isn't just about possession or jealousy. You know what you mean to me."
She was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest through my partially unbuttoned shirt. "Sometimes I think we're addicted to each other," she said softly. "Like this—us—it's not healthy, but we can't stop."
"Maybe," I admitted, my hands settling on her waist. "But I've never felt anything like this before. Have you?"
She shook her head, meeting my eyes. "No. Never."
"Then maybe that means something. Maybe it means we figure out how to make it work instead of running from it."
"And how do we do that, Greyson? How do we make it work when your family will never accept me? When you can't even take me to dinner without worrying about who might see us?"
The questions hung in the air between us, heavy with two years' worth of complications and compromises. I didn't have easy answers, but I had one truth.
"I don't know how we figure it all out," I said, my thumbs tracing small circles on her sides through the soft fabric of her tank top. "But I know I can't lose you. I know that watching another man kiss you tonight nearly drove me insane. And I know that no matter how complicated this gets, what we have is worth fighting for."
She studied my face for a long moment, her hands coming up to cup my cheeks. "You can't keep showing up like this, though. You can't keep treating me like your secret and then getting jealous when I try to move on."
"I know." I leaned into her touch. "I know I have to do better. I want to do better."
"Do you? Really? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?"
The question stung because it was fair. How many times had we had versions of this conversation? How many times had I promised changes I wasn't sure I could deliver?
"I'm saying it because it's true," I said finally. "Because losing you isn't an option, which means I have to figure out how to keep you without keeping you hidden."
She was quiet for a moment, her thumbs stroking across my cheekbones. Then she leaned forward and kissed me, soft and sweet and full of a tenderness that made my chest ache.
"I love you," she whispered against my lips. "Even when you drive me crazy, even when this feels impossible, I love you."
"I love you too," I whispered back. "More than I probably should, more than is probably smart."
She laughed softly, a sound with no humor in it. "We're a mess, aren't we?"
"Completely." I helped her down from the counter, my hands lingering on her waist. "But we're our mess."
She looked up at me, her expression serious. "Don't let me wake up alone tomorrow," she said quietly. "And don't disappear for days afterward, okay? If we're really going to try to make this work, I need to know you're not going to vanish every time things get complicated."
"I'll be here when you wake up," I promised, meaning it more than I'd meant anything in a long time. "We'll figure out the rest as we go."