Page 87 of All In

I wrinkle my nose as I say the words because, yeah, I don’t want to do that at all, but I want to hurt Gray even less. And if this is gonna hurt him even more? Not worth it.

Before I have time to freak out, I’m wrapped in his arms, and I’m being crushed against his chest.

Every single bit of my body relaxes in his embrace. I’m not sure I even realized how much I needed this until the second I was in his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. “I’ve loved you for so long, Harlow. So, so long. I can survive with it. I can deal with it. I promise. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, okay?” Grayson says softly, his breath blowing over my hair. “I can shove it back in a box, or I can pretend I didn’t tell you. We don’t have to kiss or touch or sleep together or anything. Just… please, I can’t lose your friendship.”

“You won’t.” God, this hurts so much. Knowing how much I’ve hurt him. Knowing what I’ve put him through. “I promise. It’s just me and you. Still Gray and Harlow,” I say, repeating the words he said to me in Vegas.

“Right,” he echoes. “Still Gray and Harlow.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, and I don’t know how to fix it. Not right now, anyway. Not tonight. I need to think. I need to sleep in Gray’s arms, and I need to think. “Let’s go to bed.”

Pulling away from him, I take his hand, leading him into the bedroom—our bedroom—and I strip down to my briefs.

I just want to feel his skin against mine, so I’m relieved when Grayson does the same. We crawl into bed side by side, and as soon as we’re under the blankets, I roll toward him, plastering my body against his.

He wraps his arm around me, and I snuggle closer, resting my head over his heart. His fingers slip into my hair, and he exhales a long, slow breath.

A sickening thought hits me, and my nose burns. “You took the week of my honeymoon off from work. Because… because you knew it was going to hurt.”

Gray’s silence says it all.

Fuck.

Shifting, I cross my arms over Gray’s chest and rest my chin on them so I can look at him. He’s avoiding eye contact. “I’m so sorry, Gray. I didn’t know.”

He huffs a small laugh. “Of course you didn’t.”

But maybe I should have. Maybe I should have seen the signs. How did I miss it for so long? Would I have ever seen it?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shakes his head almost violently. “I was never, ever going to tell you.”

My lips turn down. “Why not?”

His eyes finally find mine. “I never wanted to put you in a position where you felt uncomfortable or unsafe with me.”

I watch him for a second, my throat tight. “I’ve never felt unsafe with you, Gray. You really just weren’t gonna tell me?”

Almost like he can’t help it, he brushes my hair back off my forehead. “When was I supposed to tell you, Harlow? When you were engaged to Josh? The day of your wedding? What should I have done? Dropped to my knees and begged you not to marry him?”

My heart skips. “I mean… yeah, you could have.”

Grayson shakes his head. “I couldn’t have, and you know that.”

I guess he’s right. But still. I don’t like it. I don’t like how much I must have accidentally hurt him over the years. Can barely stomach how many times he must have been in pain. “I’m really so sorry,” I say again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

After watching him for a few more seconds, I sigh, then shift again, resting my head on his chest and hooking my arm around his stomach. His hand lands on my arm, and his fingers draw mindless patterns on my skin.

I don’t see how, but after a few minutes, Gray’s breathing evens out, and he starts snoring softly.

There’s no fucking way I’m sleeping, though. Not with the way my mind is racing, so I carefully grab my phone, then open my socials.

We’ve posted so many photos together. Years’ worth of them, honestly. Dating back to when I first opened my account and we were baby-faced teenagers.

I look through them all, starting with our most recent ones and going all the way back to the beginning. Now that I’m looking at them through a new lens, I see them differently. Of course Gray loves me. It’s so clear. So painfully fucking obvious in his eyes, in the way he looks at me. From our most recent photos to our oldest.