I head into the kitchen, where Grayson is already at the fridge. He pulls out two bottles of water, walks over to me, and hands me one.

“You’re a lot smaller without your heels,” he says, a hint of something like humor or sex in his voice—or both, I think. Without my shoes, he’s towering over me and the feeling is thrilling.

“I’m normal-sized,” I say with a grin. “You’re just weirdly tall.” Then I make the mistake of meeting his eyes.

The air crackles between us with lust so thick it fogs up my vision. All I can see is him.

“I, er…” I stumble back a step. Seeing the breakfast bar, I move over to it and prop myself up on a stool. Feeling flushed, I unscrew the cap on my bottle and take a long pull of water.

Grayson moves around to the other side of the breakfast bar. He puts his unopened water down on the countertop and curls his hands around the marble edge. I put my water bottle down and keep my eyes on it as I slowly screw the cap back on.

I know he’s staring at me, but I’m nervous to meet his eyes again. The more I look into his eyes, the more I get caught in their hold. It’s easier for us to control ourselves when there are other people around, but when it’s just me and him…it’s impossible.

And my willpower is weakening by the second.

“So…” he says, voice low and decadent.

“I saw Tyler earlier,” I say, cutting through the tension. We need to focus on his brother. “He called and asked me if I would meet with him, so I did.”

The silence is palpable. I risk a glance at him.

Grayson’s jaw is tight. But he doesn’t look angry, he just looks closed off. It’s a look I’ve seen on him before. “And what did he have to say?”

I squeeze the bottle tightly. “He told me the truth—that the drugs found on you were actually his.”

Grayson doesn’t move or speak. But I see his grip on the counter tighten, his knuckles whitening.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, looking him in the eyes unafraid, because I know sex is the last thing on his mind right now.

“Because he’s my brother.” He says this like it’s a given. Like there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for him.

Emotion overwhelms me. I find myself wondering, again, what it’d be like to have someone who cares about you so deeply that they would literally do anything for you—put their own ass on the line, risk going to jail for you, potentially lose everything—just like Grayson is doing for his brother. I find myself envious of Tyler in this moment.

“And he told me that he’s…” I bite my lip. I’m actually nervous to tell him this part.

“What?” he asks. His tone is impatient, as is the look on his face.

“He’s involved with the cartel. That’s where the drugs came from. He’s working for them.”