"No, no, no," I gasp, clawing at my throat, still feeling phantom fingers crushing my windpipe.
The door bursts open with such force it slams against the wall. Greyson stands in the doorway, shirtless and wild-eyed, a gun gripped in his hand. His eyes scan the room frantically, weapon raised and ready.
"Livie!" His voice is sharp with fear as he sweeps the room for threats, moving with lethal determination from the closet to the bathroom, checking every possible hiding place.
"Nightmare," I manage to choke out, my voice barely a whisper. "Just a nightmare."
Relief washes over his face as he lowers the gun, though the tension doesn't fully leave his body. He crosses to me in three long strides, setting the weapon on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed.
"You're safe." His hands are gentle as they frame my face. "I'm right here. No one's going to hurt you."
I'm trembling uncontrollably, cold sweat making my tank top cling to my skin. "It felt so real. He was—he was killing me, and you couldn't reach me."
"Look at me," Greyson commands, tilting my chin up until our eyes meet. "Richard Keller is in a hospital bed, handcuffed to the rails, with two police officers outside his door. And even if he wasn't, he'd have to go through me to get to you. That's never going to happen."
I nod, trying to believe him, but the terror of the nightmare still has its claws in me. Greyson must see it in my eyes because he shifts, pulling back the covers.
"Move over." His tone is gentle but brooks no argument.
I slide to the other side of the bed, making room as he climbs in beside me. He gathers me against his chest, one arm wrapping securely around my waist, the other cradling my head. His skin is warm against mine, his heartbeat strong and steady under my ear.
"I've got you," he murmurs into my hair. "Just breathe with me, okay? In and out."
I focus on matching my breathing to his, the panic slowly receding as his warmth seeps into me. His fingers trace soothing patterns on my back, and gradually the trembling subsides.
"I hate this," I whisper against his chest. "I hate that he's still in my head, still making me afraid."
"It's normal," Greyson says, his voice rumbling through his chest. "Your body and mind went through hell today. It's going to take time to process."
"What if the nightmares don't stop?" The question slips out before I can stop it, revealing my deepest fear, that Richard Keller has permanently broken something inside me, stolen my sense of safety forever.
Greyson shifts, tilting my face up to his. In the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains, his eyes are impossibly blue, intense with emotion.
"Then I'll be here," he says simply. "Every night, for as long as you need me. Until the nightmares fade. And they will fade, Livie. I promise you that."
The certainty in his voice, the unwavering conviction, brings tears to my eyes. I reach up, tracing the strong line of his jaw with my fingertips.
"Why me?" I ask, the question that's been lingering since that first kiss outside the clubhouse. "Of all the women you could have, why wait for me?"
He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Because no one else has ever felt right. From the first moment I saw you—really saw you, not as Mason's little sister or Wilder's daughter, but as you—I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That you were it for me." The admission falls from his lips. "That no matter how long it took, no matter what stood in our way, we'd end up here."
The simple honesty of his words steals my breath. There's no artifice in Greyson Reed, no games or pretense. Just raw truth laid bare in the darkness between us.
"Even when I left?" I press, needing to understand. "Even when I stayed away for two years?"
"Especially then." His thumb traces the curve of my cheek. "Because leaving took courage. Staying away took strength. And I've always admired both those things about you."
I lean into his touch, something warm and tender unfurling in my chest, pushing back the lingering shadows of the nightmare.
"I think I've been yours since I was seventeen," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't know if you'd wait for me to figure it out."
His smile in the darkness is breathtaking. "I would have waited forever, Livie Bennett."
This time when his lips find mine, there's nothing gentle about it. The kiss is hungry, desperate, filled with two years of longing and the relief of finally, finally, being together. His hand tangles in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss as I arch against him, every nerve ending coming alive under his touch.
