Washed Up (Bayside Heroes)

I bite my bottom lip, shaking my head. “Wow,” I breathe, leaning into Greg’s touch once more. “That was chees-y.”

The hall fills with laughter at that, a few of the guys calling out jokes at Greg’s expense — who is now beet red and shaking his head.

When the noise calms down, he turns his attention back to me. “Not only did I want to make this place feel more like your home,” he says. “But I also wanted to make this room, specifically, all yours.”

I look around, still as awestruck as when I first laid eyes on it. “An office?”

“An office, a study room, a place to plan your goals and lay out your dreams. Maybe you’ll write papers in here. Maybe you’ll study crunch late into the night before a final exam. Maybe you’ll get your first job offer. Maybe you’ll climb out onto that roof, to our spot, and think up the next great American novel.” He shrugs. “All I know is that whatever happens next, I believe in you. And I want to be here with you, right by your side, every step of the way.”

I hear a few of the ladies down the hallway let out a soft awww, and I can’t help the way my cheeks heat, how I melt like a little schoolgirl at his sweet sentiment.

“It’s beautiful, Greg,” I tell him. Then, I let out a long sigh. “But…”

His expression shifts, worry shading his eyes as he swallows down a lump in his throat. “But?”

I shake my head, hanging my hands on my hips as I look around.

“I think I want to sell it.”

“Sell it?!”

It’s not just Greg who echoes me, but the entire hallway of people, and I hold up my hands as I spin to face them.

“Hear me out,” I say, noting their shocked expressions. “I am… incredibly touched by how much you all have done for me — especially since most of you are strangers. I think it’s a testament to how much you care about Greg, and what you would do for him.”

Smiles gleam back at me as I turn to face the man in question.

“I feel the same way,” I confess. “Which is why as beautiful as this renovation is… I don’t want to live here anymore.”

Greg frowns when I set the flowers aside, and I slip into his arms, both of us letting out an almost pained breath once we’re finally connected again.

“I want to make new memories. In a new house.” I pause, shrugging as I look up at him through my lashes. “Maybe… with you?”

“Awww, shit, West! Looks like you got a new roommate!”

I’m not even sure who says it, but it earns a chuckle from the guys and a round of hush’s from the ladies, and then whoever it was gets elbowed to the tune of a loud grunt.

Greg shakes his head, smiling down at me with his hands coming to frame my face.

“Are you asking me if I want to move in together?”

“Indeed, I am.”

His smile widens, thumbs running the length of my jaw as he searches my gaze.

“David, look away,” he warns. “Because what I’m about to do definitely falls in the gross category.”

I don’t have time to even laugh at the joke before Greg’s hands guide my mouth to his, and he presses those warm, perfect lips against my own, stealing any oxygen I had left to consume. A round of cheers rings out around us, laughter and clapping and what I’m almost positive is a groan from David.

But I can barely hear any of it, can barely register anything other than what it feels like to be in this man’s arms, to feel so alive with hope it hurts as much as it heals, to have my heart in his capable, safe, caring hands.

And I know that I have his, too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

GREG

After a catered meal for everyone who helped make the house renovation possible, Amanda and I stand at the door and hug each one of them goodnight.

David and Julia are the last to leave, and though I know it’s going to take a long time for him to be completely comfortable with me and his mom being together, it feels good to know I have his blessing — and his friendship — when he gives me a big clap on the shoulder on his way out.

Amanda makes silly faces at a giggling Tucker until the front door shuts, and then it’s just the two of us, Christmas music still softly playing over the speaker, lights of white and red filling the living room with a warm glow.

She turns to me, her eyes tired and yet somehow more alive than ever as she slips into my arms. I didn’t think it was possible for her to look any more radiant than I’d seen her before, but in this moment, with her hair tied up in a loose ponytail, her face makeup free, and a sleepy, happy smile on her face — she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.