Grant remains quiet for a long minute. His chest moves visibly as he fights to keep his breaths even. “I don’t care who his grandfather is; he’s not untouchable.” He’s about to slide an arm around me but stops himself. “Where are you hurt?”
I wave my flat hand in front of my stomach area. He tenderly cradles me to his side.
“I’m sorry your friends didn’t believe you. They should know you better than that. I’ve only known you a couple months, and I would never doubt you. You care about people.”
I scoff.
“Okay, let me rephrase that. You defend the people you care about. That’s who you are, Lana.”
“You sound like Arden,” I say with a light laugh. Grant looks at me quizzically. “She’s my suitemate. Her curse is Insight. She’s really good at it.”
“I think I know her.” Grant pauses in recollection. “Does she dress in really colorful and eccentric clothing and makeup?”
“Yeah, she’s pretty unforgettable,” I note admiringly. “She called me a warrior.” I laugh because I find it a little absurd. I’m not nearly that honorable or disciplined.
“She is insightful,” Grant remarks seriously.
“Is that really how you see me?” I ask incredulously.
“I’ve seen enough of your fire to understand that you’re passionate, not reckless—although it still scares the shit out of me because I don’t want you to get hurt. Honestly, I wish violence wasn’t your protective instinct. But I get what ignited it. And I know you’re trying, right?”
I nod.
“You didn’t start that confrontation with Nina. I agree with Niall; you were defending yourself.”
I draw my feet up onto the dock and ungracefully plop onto Grant’s lap.
He catches me with a surprised, “Umph.”
“I was wrong to shield you from me like I did,” I admit, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I was so angry and afraid of hurting you. But you and Ashton don’t need protecting. You’re both stronger than I gave you credit for. I screwed up, and I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he assures me quietly, rubbing gentle circles on my back. “I want to know your truths, remember?” He tips his head, so I can see the conviction in his eyes. “So please don’t protect me from you. You’re not going to burn me.” He brushes his thumb along my cheek.
“Never apologize for who you are, Lana. I know you’re unpredictable. I’m endlessly entertained, never knowing what you’re going to say or do.” He kisses my temple. “But you’ve always been honest about who you are. I fell in love with that honesty almost the second I met you.” He brushes his lips against mine. “I love you.” He smiles affectionately.
“Can I just say that it feels pretty fricken amazing to be able to say the L-word without you freaking out?” He studies me. “Unless you’re freaking out … are you?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Not when you say it.” I hug him. “When you say it, it’s like I’m hearing exactly what I feel, so it’s more like I’m saying it to you every time you say it to me.” I cringe. Maybe I’m having a brownie flashback. “That didn’t come out right.”
“It was perfect, Sweets,” he says, leaning down to show me exactly what I mean. His lips skate over mine, across my cheek and down my neck, making my head light and pulse quicken.
A drop falls onto my cheek. I swipe at the moisture. Am I seriously crying again?
When more drops hit my bare arms and shoulders, I realize it’s not my face that’s crying but the sky. Within seconds, it completely opens up and begins to pour.
Instinct has me scrambling off Grant’s lap and standing. But he tugs on my arm before I can seek shelter.
He’s smiling that stunning, breathtaking smile. “We’re already wet.”
He’s right. I’m soaked through, my hair plastered to the sides of my face.
I eye him curiously when he kicks off his shoes and peels his socks from his feet. My eyes widen when he unbuttons his shirt. Then my mouth tilts into an appreciative smirk when he shucks it off, revealing the smooth lines of muscle and tanned skin.
Before he can reach for his pants, I unzip my dress and leave everything in a sopping mess at my feet. I rush past him and plunge in the water, hoping this is what he intended.
Grant slips through the rippling water like a blade. He re-emerges in front of me. “Are you …”
“Naked?” I grin. “Yes.”
“Oh,” he breathes out.
The rain pelts our faces as the water wakes around us.
“You’re not?”
“Uh, no,” he admits, his cheeks flushed. “Am I supposed to be?”
“Not if you don’t want to be,” I say, disappearing under the water to swim in the direction of the trampoline.
When I surface, Grant isn’t behind me. I catch sight of him slipping back in the water from the dock, his boxers abandoned next to his pants. Now I feel the heat rushing to my face.
He swims out to me with ease. I’ve secured myself to the rocking trampoline with a hand gripping the rope. The cool water soothing my aches, or perhaps I’m too distracted to register anything other than adrenaline rushing through my body.
“Maybe you are a bad influence,” he says with a teasing smile.
“I’ve never done this,” I counter playfully. “Besides, you started undressing first.”
He swims a little closer but not enough. The distance is making my heart pound with anticipation. I notice one of his hands is cupping something small inside of it. I narrow my eyes to get a better … My brows perk when I recognize the square foil package.
“I, uh …” He kicks back. “I’m not assuming. But I didn’t … know.”
I bite my lip, smiling. “You’re always so prepared. It’s so … you.”
He looks bashfully adorable.
“Come here,” I beckon when he remains too far away to touch. As soon as he’s within reach, I do just that, wrapping an arm around his neck, bringing him right up against me. Flush with my skin, sealing my chest to his. “Don’t let me drown.”
“Never,” he murmurs against my lips, closing his eyes and kissing me with the passion of a thousand suns.
I ignite, my skin ablaze. He crowds me against the side of the trampoline, caging me in. I wrap my legs around him, and he groans in my ear, tasting the rainwater dripping down the side of my neck.
“Can we … go up top?”
I nod, reluctantly releasing him long enough to climb the ladder. The rain feels like little bursts of ice against my heated skin. But soon, he’s leaning over me, shielding me from their assault. His fingers are gentle, creating their own line of goose bumps that he follows with the tender brush of his lips.
Grant lowers his head and kisses the fading bruises, skimming them so gently, it makes my entire body tense with need. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his breath warm against my damp skin.
“Uh, no,” I utter breathlessly, overcome by the sensation of his touch.
When he returns to my mouth, I don’t hold back from letting him feel every single yes that I will never regret saying. And when he whispers he loves me, I fill with a light that could shine through the darkest of rain clouds.