Rilley’s pov

“You’re done pretending,” I said when Grant walked into the living room late that afternoon and found me on the couch.

The house was completely still. No cars outside. No voices. Just the two of us and everything we had been holding back all day.

He didn’t answer with words. He crossed the room in three long steps, grabbed my face with both hands, and kissed me like he had been starving for it for months.

His mouth was open and hungry, tongue pushing past my lips, tasting me deep while one hand slid down to squeeze my ass through the shorts.

I kissed him back just as...