GRAYSON

Nessa was here.

Nessa was here.

Here, like here on my front step. I'd dreamed about this, but it had only ever been a dream. Julian told me she might show up, but I hadn't thought—I hadn't believed she actually would. I only dreamed about it.

Nessa had so many built-in barriers in her head, and even though I knew she could jump over all of them, I didn't know if she would do it for me.

She wasn't just here, though. She was here, and she was crying, and God, I didn't want to hear the apologies. Just the fact that she was standing in front of my house told me all I needed to know about how she was feeling.

And now, all I wanted to feel was her.

Thankfully she stopped trying to interrupt my kisses with words I didn't need to hear and let my lips cover hers as I picked her up, kicked the door shut, and walked us to the couch. Nessa settled perfectly into my lap, straddling it in a way that sent my pulse racing.

It wasn't the time to get turned on, but kissing her was a reminder of all the other times our lips had met. And when her lips had met other parts of my body. Shit. These lips were so fucking talented, and kissing Nessa was the jolt I needed to fully wake up. My coma had still gripped me for weeks, and now I was finally free.

"God, I've missed you," I groaned.

Missed every little piece of her.

Up until a few minutes ago, my heart had only half-healed.

Nessa sobbed into my mouth, and a tremor ran through her body. I felt it deep in my bones because it was precisely what was happening to me.

"Six weeks, Grayson," she cried. "I didn't know where you were for six weeks."

"Fuck, I know." My lips caressed hers. "It was one of the first things I thought of when I woke up."

Nessa, Nessa, Nessa, Nessa.

Her name had been on a loop in my brain for weeks.

She pulled back, giving me an assessing glance. "So it's true?"

She was so achingly beautiful, even with tears streaming down her face. Tears meant for me, and I couldn't handle it. I brushed my thumb over her face, getting rid of the moisture.

"That I was in a coma? Yeah, baby. It's true."

I wanted to tell her that I was sorry. I was so sorry for her leaving her. I was so sorry for being born with a broken heart, so sorry that once I finally found hers, mine failed me.

Nessa looked like she was about to break down again, so I swooped in for another kiss. And another and another until I was certain her tears had dried, and all she was thinking about was this right here—us. I wasn't giving us up. I didn't care if there'd been an intermission. We were picking up in the next act, and if she thought differently, then I was here to reassure her.

Her lips, the ones I kept brushing over, were mine. Her ass that I had gripped between my hands—mine. That sweet, sweet heart that she'd tried to hide from me—mine.

When she abruptly pushed back, I felt her absence so acutely.

"You're okay?" she asked, uncertainty in her gaze.

The concern was touching. It really, really was. But at the moment, I didn't want it.

Get the hell back here, Adler. I'm not done kissing you.

"No," I breathed over her mouth with a chuckle. I felt her stiffen and added, "You keep talking when I want to kiss you."

She smacked my chest lightly. "I'm serious, Everett."

Oof, not Everett.

"And now you're calling me Everett," I said with a smile. I covered her hand with mine and brought it to rest over my heart. My goddamn annoying heart that was all for her. "You're killing me here, Adler."

"Don't say that." Nessa closed her eyes, a fresh wave of pain coursing through her expression that hurt me to see. "It's not funny."

"Hey." I pulled back so she could look at me and see that everything was fine. She had new tears running down her face, and I flicked them away. "I'm okay. I'm okay now that you're here."

I doubted she realized the extent of how much I meant that. She made me whole again.

She gripped my shirt with the strength I always knew she had. "I'm serious," she repeated.

I caught her face between both of my hands. "So am I."

I made her look at me. Like fully look at me. Because this was it—the moment where absolutely nothing stood between us any longer. Every bit of my being was exposed to this girl.

And then Nessa did something that nearly sent my poor, recovering heart into overdrive. She rested her head against my chest. Ear to chest. Right over that loudly thumping organ like she was checking to make sure it worked.

I always knew that Nessa cared about me more than she let on, but this was...this was everything.

"It's as good as new again," I said softly. "They fixed it all up."

Her eyes fluttered closed as she listened to my heartbeat.

"You didn't tell me." Her voice released like the gentlest caress. "I thought you didn't lie?"

I had to swallow past the emotion in my throat.

"I've never lied to you, Nessa."

"But you didn't tell me. I don't understand why you didn't tell me."

Didn't she?

I'd spent months trying to prove to her that I was everything she needed. Everything she wanted. Everything she thought I wasn't.

"Who wants to give a girl their heart and then tell them it's broken?"

She looked up at me. "I don't care if it's broken. I never wanted you to be perfect, Grayson. I just wanted to know you wouldn't...."

I brushed a hair out of her face. "What?"

"Leave."

Fuck.

My eyes closed as pain rippled through me. Of course. Of course that was the one thing she wanted after what happened with that asshole ex of hers. And I left. I left her, and that tore me the hell up inside. I hated picturing Nessa the last couple months. I hated thinking about what she must have felt when I disappeared.

"Will you tell me now?" she asked, breaking through my moment of self-hate. "Tell me about your heart."

She wanted to know about my heart, did she?

Let me tell you about my heart, baby. Let me tell you how it's shaped and molded into something made just for you.

That wasn't what Nessa wanted to know, though. So I nodded and opened my eyes. Meanwhile, Nessa returned to her spot on my chest, pressing her ear back against my shirt.

Jesus Christ, the sweetness was almost too much to handle.

"Coarctation of the aorta," I said. "That's what I was born with. Meaning my aorta is more narrow than it should be and my heart has to work harder to pump blood through the opening. It was fixed when I was a baby, but I've always needed to monitor it. I've always had high blood pressure."

"Then...it came back?"

"Yeah, it came back. That was always a risk. A pretty uncommon one, but it happens."

I tucked my chin to look down at her. Brown hair spread across my chest, and I wondered if she could hear how my pulse picked up.

"And it caused—"

Her words died when she glanced up to find me watching her. Our eyes met, a fizzling connection.

"A stroke," I whispered. "I had a stroke, Nessa. Which resulted in the coma. And even once I woke up, there was so much I couldn't do. I swear I was trying to get to you, but by then, you were so out of reach."

But she was back now. She made it back to me. After months of trying to find my way into Nessa Elez's heart, here she was, curled up and listening to mine.

Nessa nodded, but she looked terrified as she asked her next question.

"It happened right after you left my house, didn't it?"

I almost didn't want to answer. I didn't need her to blame herself for something out of her control. But I knew she would demand the truth, and I owed it to her. The last thing I wanted was to argue right now and sour the sweet moments between us.

"Yeah, it did," I said with a nod.

I watched regretfully as she choked on her next words. "God, I knew something was wrong. I knew it."

"Nothing is wrong now," I assured, smoothing a hand over her hair.

Everything was absolutely right, and I needed her to focus on that. Focus on now. Now was the best thing to have ever happened to me.

Nessa seemed to accept that, growing quiet as she snuggled into my chest. Sometimes I wondered where she came from and how I got so lucky that she waltzed into my life that day we lost in the playoffs. It was—

Wait...where had she come from? Or, more importantly, how did she get here? Like right now? Nessa didn't own a car, and it wasn't like she'd been only a few miles over at her parents' house. She was taking courses on campus this summer; that was why she bumped into Jules.

"How did you get here?

"Bren," she mumbled into my shirt. "He's outside."

Oh, hell nah. All the people who could have given her a ride, and it had to be him, huh? I stared at Nessa for a quick second before twisting to look out the window. And sure enough, there he was: Bren Hadaway, looking like he owned the fucking road while he sat in his convertible, twiddling his thumbs on the steering wheel.

I whipped out my phone, finding his number with a flick of my thumb. I watched Bren pick up, and his voice came through the speaker, a touch of confusion in it.

"Hello?"

"You can head out now," I said without pretense. "I've got her."

Bren chuckled, which irritated me to no end.

"Let me talk to Nessa," he said.

I swallowed a growl of possession from his implication that he didn't trust that I had her. He didn't trust that I knew what she needed or that I would take care of her.

Maybe he didn't realize that she was my girl now. Not his.

But Nessa was watching, and I was pretty sure she'd heard him. So I relented. "Fine."

"Hi, Bren," Nessa said as I handed her the phone. She sounded way too fucking happy to talk to him, but then she exhaled deeply—a contented sigh. And I realized that her happiness wasn't about Bren at all. "You can go home. Thanks for the ride here."

"You sure?" I heard Bren ask.

She said you could go home, man. Go home.

"I'm sure," Nessa answered.

Damn, those two little words were satisfying as all hell.

"Okay, let me know if anything changes," Bren replied. "I can always come back."

I frowned. Deeply. Nothing was going to change, buddy.

Nessa flashed me a reassuring smile. "Nothing will change," she said before hanging up.

See, Hadaway?

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Bren pull out onto the road and drive off. And even though irritation spread through me because, yeah, maybe I wasn't over their history, the voice in the back of my head pestered me. It was a regretfully grateful voice. Because Bren Hadaway had brought Nessa to see me, and now I fucking owed him.

"I'm glad he brought you here," I admitted. "But Jules said he gave you my number, and you know I would have come to you. Didn't you read my note?"

"I did," she whispered. "But after talking to Julian, all I could think about was seeing you. And this just seemed like the fastest option. I'm sorry for showing up out of—"

I cut her off with a hot, hard kiss.

"Don't apologize, Nessa. God, I'm so happy you're here."

Nessa wrapped her arms around my neck in response and kissed me back. Eagerly, letting me know with her actions how happy she was to be here, too. I tugged her closer, needing to feel more of her. Fuck, I'd missed her so goddamn much. I wanted to touch her in all the ways I'd thought about while lying awake in a hospital bed.

My hands slid lower, grabbing her ass with renewed conviction. Mine.

The pants were annoying, though.

"You're not wearing a skirt," I moaned. "Why the hell aren't you wearing a skirt?"

She laughed as I dragged my hands up to squeeze her thighs. Thighs covered with jeans. Not tights. Where were the fucking tights?

"If I'd known this was going to happen, I definitely would have."

I hoped that meant she hadn't had any other reasons to wear skirts and tights these last weeks—no reasons besides her own personal style.

"Please tell me that means you haven't been wearing skirts for other guys while I've been gone."

It would wreck me if she'd been with other people, but I needed to know.

"No other guys," she said, and I sucked in with relief. "Only you."

"Only me?"

I needed her to confirm it.

"Only you," she whispered over my lips. "I missed you, Wilder."

I hated it, and I loved it. I hated that I'd left, causing her this kind of pain and longing. But I loved that she missed me as much as I missed her.

Not knowing what else to say, I pulled Nessa back to my chest, tucking her against my heart where she belonged. I stroked her hair until I felt her relax, her muscles melting into mine.

Time passed, but nothing mattered except for two heartbeats, both going strong.