I step back to close the door, but he steps forward and pushes it open, pulling me to him by my waist. “No,” he says, shaking his head adamantly. “No.” He kisses me, but pulls back before I would even have the chance to deny him. “It’s just . . . God, I feel like I can’t even find words right now.” His head falls back like he can’t figure out how to process his confusion. He releases me and steps out into the hallway. He starts pacing back and forth while he gathers his thoughts. He looks just as torn as he did the first time I saw him. He was pacing then, too, outside of Ethan’s door.
Graham takes a step toward me, gripping the doorframe. “We’ve spent one day together, Quinn. One. It’s been perfect and fun and you are so beautiful. I want to pick you up and carry you to your bed and stay inside you all night and tomorrow and the next day and it’s . . .” He runs a hand through his unruly hair and then grips the back of his neck. “It’s making my head swim and I feel like if I don’t back off now, I’m gonna be real disappointed when I find out you don’t feel the same way.”
I take at least ten seconds to catch up to everything he just said. My mouth opens and before I can tell him he’s right, that it’s too soon and too fast, I say, “I know what you mean. It’s terrifying.”
He steps closer. “It is.”
“Have you ever felt like this before? This fast?”
“Never. Not even close.”
“Me neither.”
He slips his hand against my neck and slides his fingers through my hair. His other hand presses against my lower back as he pulls me to him. He asks the question in a whisper against my lips. “Do you want me to leave?”
I answer him with a kiss.
Everything that happens next isn’t questioned by either of us. There’s no second-guessing as he kicks my door shut. No worrying if this is too fast when we tear away each other’s clothes. Neither of us hesitates on the way to my bedroom.
And for the next hour, the only question he asks me is, “Do you want to be on top now?”
He only needs my answer once, but I say yes at least five times before we’re finished.
Now he’s lying on his back and I’m wrapped around him like there’s not two feet of mattress on either side of us. My legs are intertwined with his and my hand is tracing circles over his chest. We’ve been mostly quiet since we finished, but not because we don’t have anything to say. I think we’re just reflecting on what life was like two days ago compared to what it’s like now.
It’s a lot to take in.
Graham trails his fingers up and down my arm. His lips meet the top of my head in a quick kiss. “Did Ethan ever try to get you back?”
“Yeah, he tried for a few weeks.” I think it goes without saying that he wasn’t successful. “What about Sasha?”
“Yep,” he says. “She was relentless. She called me three times a day for a month. My voice mail stayed full.”
“You should have changed your number.”
“I couldn’t. It’s the only form of contact you had for me.”
His admission makes me smile. “I probably never would have called you,” I admit. “I kept your number on my wall because I liked how it made me feel. But I didn’t think it was a good idea, given how we met.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
I slide on top of him and his concerned expression is won over by a smile. “At this point I don’t really care how we met. I only care that we met.”
Graham kisses the corner of my mouth, threading our hands together. “I actually thought you took Ethan back and that’s why you never called me.”
“There’s no way I would have taken him back. Especially after he tried to blame the whole affair on Sasha. He painted her out to be some kind of temptress who seduced him. He actually called her a whore once. That was the last time I spoke to him.”
Graham shakes his head. “Sasha isn’t a whore. She’s a relatively good person who sometimes makes terrible and selfish decisions.” He rolls me onto my back and begins to run a lazy finger over my stomach in circles. “I’m sure they did it because they thought they wouldn’t get caught.”
I have no idea how he talks so calmly about it. I was so angry in the weeks following Ethan’s affair. I took it personally, like they had the affair just to spite us. Graham looks at the affair like they did it despite us.
“Do you still talk to her?”