I turned to leave, but he grabbed my elbow, yanking me back.
GRAY
* * *
Lottie’s emerald-green dress was soaked black, and she shivered. I gripped her forearms, rubbing, trying to get her warm.
“I’d give you my jacket,” I said to Lottie. “But, uh…” I gestured at my shirtless body.
“You jumped in and saved me,” Lottie said, eyes wide.
I paused, hands still on her forearms.
“Should we acknowledge the elephant in the room?” she whispered.
“I don’t know if it’s that big—”
Lottie rolled her eyes. “I hurt your feelings earlier.”
I let her go, dragging a hand through my hair, getting the wet strands out of my eyes. I wasn’t about to admit that, but I couldn’t deny it, either, so I let the faded sounds of the yacht above us fill the silence.
“I didn’t think Grayson Crowne had feelings,” she said. “There’s a lot of things I got wrong about you.” She pushed the remaining wet strands of hair out of my face, palm lingering. “I want to know you. The real you. Is steak still your favorite food?”
They think your favorite food is steak, and they’ve never seen the inside of your wing. Everyone wants a piece of you, but no one could give a shit who you are.
Our eyes locked, when just beyond her, on the dock, I spotted two blurry figures. West talking with Story, going so far as to run a knuckle down her cheek. My stomach tightened at the action.
No one can touch her.
No one.
“Grayson?” Lottie asked, and I looked back. “Did you hear what I said?”
I rubbed my neck and shook my head.
She stepped toward me until our chests were practically touching. “I said I think our parents are going to push this wedding, whether we want it or not.”
All my attention was back on her, voice firm. “I won’t force you to marry me.”
Even though I knew I had little, if any, power in this.
She smiled softly. “It could be worse…”
I brought her hands into mine. “I’ll be a good husba
nd, Lottie. I want to marry you. You’ve always been it for me.”
She looked over her shoulder at what I’d been looking at, then back at me. “Are you sure?”
“Since that day at Rosey.”
She worked her mouth. “We were babies then. What if you don’t like me now? How can you be sure?”
“Lottie, I—”
I broke off. West grabbed Story, yanking her to his chest.
Was she fucking kissing that chode?