Page 80 of All In

I pick up the bottle of wine we bought and push the door open, climbing out.

Gray follows suit, meeting me at the front of the car and holding his hand out for the wine.

Taking a deep breath, I reach out and slide my fingers through his. I’ve always felt safe with Gray, and now is no exception. As soon as our palms are resting together and his fingers are twined through mine, something in my soul relaxes.

He leads us to the front door, and before we even make it up the path, it swings open. A man—I’m assuming Carlos—is standing in the doorway. He’s wearing an apron that says sous chef, and he’s got a towel draped over his right shoulder.

“Grayson,” he says when we make it to the door. His eyes light up as he turns to me. “And you must be Harlow. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Carlos.”

I nod, swallowing down a new rush of nerves. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you too.”

“Hey, man,” Gray says. “Thanks for having us.”

Carlos leads us into the house, and I wipe my sweaty hand on my thigh. If Gray notices how badly the other one is sweating, he doesn’t comment on it. Probably because he can’t. Because his hand is fucking gross and sweaty too.

“Do you all want anything to drink?”

“Oh.” Gray holds the wine out. “We brought this.”

A short woman with dark curly hair rounds the corner. “Oh, our guests have arrived.”

“Gentlemen, this is my lovely wife, María.” He grabs her hand and spins her around like he’s showing her off to us. She giggles, her face flushing. I can’t help but smile. What would it be like to love someone like that? To have someone love you like that?

“I’m Grayson, and this is my h-husband, Harlow.”

I frown at the way he trips over the word husband, but María and Carlos don’t seem to notice it. See, it’s shit like that—him stumbling over the word husband—that’s got me thinking our conversation was nothing more than a fever dream.

“Please.” María gestures to the dining room off the kitchen. “Dinner is just about ready. Have a seat.”

Gray and I sit down beside each other, and I don’t want to let go of his hand, so I don’t. I tug his into my lap and hold it there, our fingers still twined together.

“How did you two meet?” María asks, her eyes lit up with excitement.

I glance at Gray, and he smiles. “Our parents were best friends. We grew up next to each other.”

“My mom got pregnant with me when Gray’s mom was six weeks pregnant with him. They were best friends growing up. They still are now.”

She smiles. “So you’ve known each other for a really long time, then.”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “All of it, actually.”

“Well, that’s not true,” Gray says, squeezing my fingers. “I had six whole weeks of peace before he came into the world.”

I gape at him, my eyebrows raised. “Rude.”

Turning to me, he smiles. “You know I’m just playing, baby. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

María giggles. “You two are just the sweetest.”

Carlos comes into the dining room with a tray. Four wine glasses, the wine we brought, and four glasses of water.

He sets everything out on the table, placing a glass of water in front of each of us before pouring the wine and passing those glasses out as well. “I’ve been telling Grayson at work how sweet young love is. I send him home early any time I get the chance.”

That’s a surprise to me, and when I glance at Gray, his cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. Oh wow. That’s new. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Gray blush like that before.

María sighs. “It really is so sweet. I remember when we were like that, cariño.”

“Like what?” I ask, my heart hammering even though I don’t really know why.