Grace
I may have been a little brazen when I decided to wait for him in the bathroom.
Did I use the sweater as an excuse to unlock the door and stay there? Maybe.
Did I second-guess myself the entire time? Absolutely.
Was I glad I did it in the end?
Fuck yeah, I was.
Considering I’d basically ground my a** against him in my sleep that morning and spent hours afterward mortified, seeking him out while he was naked felt like some kind of personality shift was happening inside me. Or maybe I was just finally done pretending I wasn’t affected by him.
Either way, my actions have been confusing even me lately.
And now here I am, trying very hard to pretend that my attention is solely on the man near the fireplace—while standing in a room full of my parents’ neighbors. Which, it turns out
