Callie
The drive back was quiet.
Not awkward.
Grayson’s hand stayed on my thigh the entire time, thumb moving in slow strokes. I watched the road blur past the window, my body still humming from the cafe, from the way he’d stepped in front of me without hesitation, from his voice when he said you are mine.
It echoed in my chest.
When we pulled into the driveway, the house was dark and still. No Mia. No witnesses. Just silence stretching open like an invitation.
The door had barely closed behind us before Grayson turned.
His gaze swept over me—slow, assessing, intense. Not rushed. Never rushed when he was like this.
“You okay?” he asked again, quieter now.
I nodded. “I feel… calmer.”
His jaw flexed. “Good. Because I need you to always feel safe here.”
He stepped closer, crowding
