Secrets & Lies

27| Eight Days

I continued to flip through channels on the large flat screen in the living room. Thank God this place had satellite. Too bad there wasn't anything good on right now. Since Grant's been here, we've gone hiking a few times, we ran together, and even roasted marshmallows around a fire. That was my favorite. Even though he would steal kisses when we went hiking—grabbing me by the hand as I walked ahead of him, or pushing me up against a tree to kiss me deep—having him feed me roasted marshmallows with that heated look in his eyes takes the cake. That was probably one of the most romantic things we've ever done. 

"Just put on ESPN."

"No," I said for the twentieth time. I glanced at Grant with an annoyed expression. "I want to watch a movie."

"Well, hurry up. You've been looking for almost an hour. Put on Netflix."

"I don't have Netflix."

"WHAT? Who doesn't—give me the damn remote."

I handed Grant the remote and waited while he signed into his account. It's been eight days since Grant first showed up at the cabin. After that night things settled into a nice routine. We slept beside each other every night—Grant on the left side, me on the right. Showers together. Morning routines. He made breakfast every morning.
We've never spent this much time together before, and I was loving it. Loving...him.

When those three words slipped between my lips after we had sex, I was so scared that he heard me. Even though he never brought it up, I knew that he didn't do well with the heavy emotional stuff. It took a lot for him to ask me to fuck him. I was so shocked at first...I didn't think he was serious.

That night was incredible. Grant and I have only been with each other when it came to men, and I felt so lucky that I was with him that way. And it wasn't the only time. Over the eight days he's been here, we've been having a lot of sex. We did it in this very living room. In the shower. The bedroom. Pretty much every possible place. And twice more he asked me to make love to him. He actually used those words: make love.

I glanced over at him again. He was sitting at the end of the couch, eyes on the TV as he scrolled through the movie titles on Netflix. I was stretched out on the same couch, with my feet resting on his lap. He had his free hand curled around the bottom of my legs; occasionally stroking my skin with his thumb.

As I sat here and watched him I couldn't help but think...Who was this man, and what happened to Grant Matthews? I never thought being with Grant like this was a possibility. I never thought we would be so fucking good together.

Now I was just worried whether or not this was going to last once we left our cabin bubble. Grant asked me the other day if I had reached out to my family. That was the first time I've ever lied to him. I just couldn't deal with that right now. Thankfully, since we didn't have cell reception, I didn't have to worry about them calling us. I knew Grant had a satellite phone, but I didn't think they knew how to reach him on that. God, I hoped not.

I knew I had to face my problems eventually, but eventually wasn't tonight. Tonight, I wanted to relax with the man I was head-over-heels in love with. Yeah, there was no trying to sugarcoat how I felt. Not anymore. Even though I didn't tell him outright, I had a feeling he knew. Whenever I got a little too close to him after sex—lingering kisses and caresses—he tensed up.  

"How about an oldie?" Grant asked with a smirk. 

"What are you thinking?" When it came to movies, Grant and I had similar tastes. We both favored action first and comedy second. We only differed when it came to foreign movies. Grant loved foreign movies. I didn't. But in his defense, I loved old movies. You know the ones. Casablanca. Trading Places. It's a Wonderful Life. Grant was not a fan. So, I was curious when he offered and oldie.