Page 59 of Grim

He followed moments later, spilling deep with a muffled groan against her throat, holding her tight through the shared tremors.

They collapsed together, breaths syncing in the aftermath, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along her spine. Sophia rested beside him, her head on his chest, his arm wrapped around her like he was afraid she’d disappear. His heartbeat thudded beneath her ear, steady and strong.

For the first time, the ghosts stayed silent. She was here. And she was his.

Chapter 18

Sophia

Sophia woke to the low hum of voices somewhere down the hall and the faint smell of coffee drifting under the door. For a moment, she didn’t move. Grim’s arm was draped over her waist, heavy and warm, his breath steady against the back of her neck. The room was dim, quiet, safe.

And she remembered everything.

The way he’d held her. The way he’d looked at her. The way he’d let her in.

Heat curled low in her stomach.

She turned slowly, careful not to wake him. His face was relaxed in sleep, the hard lines softened. She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, her chest tightening at the sight of him like this, unguarded and peaceful and hers.

He stirred, eyes blinking open. “Morning,” he murmured, voice rough.

“Morning,” she whispered back.

His gaze drifted over her face, lingering like he was memorizing her. His hand slid from her waist to her hip, his thumb brushing a slow, warm line that made her breath catch.

He didn’t pull away. Neither did she.

But the voices outside grew louder, laughter and clattering dishes and someone yelling at a prospect to stop half-assing the mop.

Grim sighed. “They’re up.”

“Sounds like it,” she said, smiling.

He brushed his thumb along her hip again, a small, absent gesture that made her heart flutter.

“You hungry?”

“Starving.”

They got dressed, but even that felt different. His eyes kept drifting to her. Her fingers brushed his arm more than necessary. When he opened the door for her, his hand lingered at the small of her back, warm and steady.

The clubhouse felt different in daylight, less chaotic and more lived in. Music played softly from the common room. Someone was frying bacon. A couple of prospects were sweeping up red Solo cups from the night before.

Rook spotted them first.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his mouth. “Morning, Sophia.”

She flushed. Grim’s hand slid to her lower back, subtle but unmistakable.

Fish walked by next, carrying a box of parts. He paused, gave Sophia a small nod, quiet and respectful and curious. “Good to see you again.”

“You too,” she said.

Ledger appeared behind him, sipping coffee from a chipped mug. “Grim actually brought someone back twice. Apocalypse confirmed.”

Grim muttered something that sounded like a threat, but Ledger only grinned and wandered off.

Before they reached the kitchen, a burst of bright energy collided with them.