Fifteen minutes pass without Grayson responding, and I sink onto my bed, rejected and embarrassed. I let out a long sigh and debate changing back into my sweatpants and removing this rather uncomfortable lace bra and underwear.

Once I stand, I hear something tapping my window. The smile forms before I even have to look because there’s only one person who has ever done this. I rush over, push it open, and find him looking up at me.

I rest my elbows on the sill, smiling like a lovesick teenager. Grayson turns me into this. A hopeful girl who doesn’t think life is full of nightmares. “What are you doing?”

“Come down so I can show you.”

“You didn’t answer my text,” I tell him with my heart pounding.

His lips turn to a playful smirk before he reaches into his back pocket and takes out his phone. After a few seconds, I hear the chirp behind me.

“I’ll be right back, I just got a text.” I practically dive for the phone to see what he said.

Grayson: It means something to me.

I clutch the phone to my chest, fighting back the urge to run to him, but I think about what Dr. Warvel said about expectations. It will mean something to both of us, which means we will both end up hurt. Then again, isn’t that the truth with anything in life? We take risks, we put our hearts out there, and sometimes, we don’t come out unscathed.

I don’t want the rest of my life to be filled with regrets regarding him.

He bought the land, built a house, and a part of me—the very stupid part—wants to think it’s because he’s been waiting for me.

I head back to the window, looking at him with fingers hovering over the phone, knowing I need to reply.

Me: I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you.

He looks up at me and then back to the phone.

Grayson: Then don’t make me scale your house. Come down here, Jessica.

Me: Okay.

There was never really any doubt I would.

My feet move quickly, taking the stairs two at a time to get to him. I reach the front door, my breath is coming in short bursts as I throw the door open.

He’s standing there—waiting.

But it’s as though all the patience we had is gone in that single instant. The time that we’ve allowed to pass is used up and one more second will kill us.

Grayson’s hands move quickly, capturing my face, and then his lips are on me. There’s desperation, desire, and determination that encapsulates us. I hold him tight, letting him kiss me, kissing him back.

He walks us inside, his mouth not leaving mine until I kick the door closed, causing us both to jump. “Your mother?”