Page 53 of Grim

“First time in my life,” he said quietly.

Grim pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head — barely there, barely a breath — but it settled something deep inside her.

“Sleep,” he murmured.

She closed her eyes.

For the first time since the argument, since Reyes died, since everything fell apart, she felt safe enough to let go.

Grim held her closer.

And Sophia let herself drift.

Chapter 16

Grim

Grim woke to warmth.

Not the kind that came from blankets or sunlight, but the kind that came from a person. From her.

Sophia was curled against him, her back pressed to his chest, her hair spilling across his arm in soft waves. His hand rested on her waist, fingers splayed over the fabric of her shirt like they’d found their place there in the middle of the night and refused to let go.

For a long moment, he didn’t move.

He breathed her in, the faint scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin, the quiet rhythm of her breathing. It was too much and not enough all at once. He wasn’t used to waking up with someone in his arms. He wasn’t used to waking up feeling… calm.

Sophia shifted slightly, a soft sound escaping her as she woke. Grim’s arm tightened around her before he could stop himself, a reflex he didn’t know he had. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t stiffen. She melted back into him like she trusted him to hold her.

She looked rested this morning, clearer and steadier than she’d been when she led him down the hallway last night.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

She nodded, her voice soft. “Yeah.”

The quiet between them wasn’t sharp like last night. It wasn’t a wall. It was warm. Tentative. Something new.

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said.

“You didn’t leave,” she whispered.

The words hit him low, somewhere he didn’t have armor. He swallowed hard, loosening his hold enough for her to turn. She rolled onto her back, looking up at him with sleep-soft eyes and a tenderness he didn’t know how to accept.

“Didn’t want to,” he said, voice low, rough with truth he hadn’t meant to give her.

“Hi,” she whispered.

He blinked at her, still half-caught between disbelief and wanting. “Hi.”

Her hand lifted, fingers brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. He just watched her, heart thudding too hard in his chest.

“I meant what I said last night,” she murmured. “You’re not alone.”

His jaw tightened. He didn’t know how to be anything else. Didn’t know how to let someone stay. Didn’t know how to let someone see him without bracing for the moment they walked away.

“I don’t know what to do with that,” he admitted quietly.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she said. “Just… be here.”