Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

and shot out, fingers still grasping my chin, and caught it.

His sweet eyes turned feral.

He tossed the sign to the ground so hard the wooden handle snapped. Then he stood up, turned around, and bent down.

“Get on my back.”

“Everyone can see—”

“Get on my fucking back, Snitch.” It was a growl, a command.

Reluctantly, I climbed on as everyone took pictures.

Forty

STORY

* * *

“How is your ankle?” he asked after moments of silence.

“Fine. You can let me down now. At this rate, you’ll carry me all the way home.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“No…”

“Then shut up.”

Grayson rubbed his thumb in circles on my thigh as he walked us home. It was such an absent touch, I’m not sure he realized he was doing it.

“Grayson.”

“Hmm.”

“Why did you promise your mother you wouldn’t speak to me?” He tensed but kept walking in silence.

“I want to hate you,” I whispered. “I’m trying really hard. Why are you making it so hard?”

After another ten minutes, I put my head on his shoulder—to avoid strain, I told myself. Not because I missed him, because Grayson’s shoulder was warm and smelled of home. The sun was setting and the air seemed pregnant with snow, but still it wouldn’t fall.

“I’m not even your wife,” I wondered aloud. “I’m married to someone else. Why do they care so much?”

“You might not be my wife, Snitch, but you’ll always be mine. They see that.”

My breath hitched, and for the rest of the way back, I didn’t say a word.

We arrived at Crowne Hall, and Grayson took us through the gates, but he didn’t go inside, and he didn’t let me down. We went around the Hall, to the beach.

“Grayson,” I said quietly, softly, not wanting to break this spell. “You carried me all the way to your beach, Grayson.”

“I guess I did,” he said. Still, he didn’t put me down.

His grip tightened on me.

My heart squeezed…maybe it meant he didn’t want to let me go.

But in the end, he slowly lowered me off his back.