Page 57 of Grim

A brunette with a tattoo curling up her neck giggled. “Good luck. He doesn’t keep anyone. Trust me.”

Sophia’s brows lifted. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” the blonde said, leaning in. “He’s had… moments. But he never lets anyone stay. Too closed off. Too damaged. Too—”

Sophia stepped closer to Grim, sliding her hand into his, lacing their fingers together with deliberate calm.

“He’s off the market,” she said, voice steady. “So your opinions don’t matter.”

The room went quiet for a beat.

Grim froze.

The sweetbutts blinked, taken aback. They exchanged looks, then backed off with murmured comments, not angry, just surprised.

Grim’s hand tightened around hers, slow and deliberate, his thumb brushing over her knuckles like a vow.

“She’s with me,” he said, voice low enough to vibrate. “And that’s not changing.”

The room shifted, not loud or dramatic, just a ripple of understanding.

Grim didn’t look at the sweetbutts. He looked at Sophia.

And for the first time, he didn’t hide.

That’s when Brick let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

Grim shot him a warning look, but the kid only grinned.

Grim leaned down, voice low, rough. “You didn’t have to stand up for me like that.”

Sophia’s fingers tightened around his. “I wasn’t standing up for you,” she said softly. “I was standing with you.”

His jaw flexed, not in anger but in something dangerously close to emotion. He squeezed her hand once, the only way he knew how to say what he felt.

He led her down the hallway, away from the noise, toward his room. He opened the door and let her step inside first.

Sophia looked around, taking in the space that belonged to him and only him. It wasn’t messy. It wasn’t empty. It was… him.

A neatly made bed. His worn leather jacket hanging on a hook. A small shelf with a few books, military history, survival manuals, and one battered paperback he never expected anyone to notice: The Old Man and the Sea.

A photo tucked into the mirror frame showed him with Stone and Havoc, younger, smiling, arms slung around each other like brothers.

Sophia touched the edge of the photo gently. “This is you.”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

She turned to him, eyes soft. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

The air shifted, warm and charged and intimate. The kind of tension that hummed under the skin, that made the room feel smaller, that made every breath feel shared.

He’d stopped things the night before because she’d needed sleep. But now? Now she was looking at him like she knew exactly what she wanted.

Sophia stepped closer, her fingers brushing his chest. Grim inhaled sharply, his hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her.

She closed the distance.