“We have to stop meeting like this,” he mutters, his plump mouth arching into what I assume to be some sort of smile, even if it’s barely there in exhaustion. My stomach hurts. Finding him like this again… a week before he’s going to play— My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat. “Rhys,” I barely get out, my hand reaching for his face. It’s only as he circles my wrist that I realize I’m shaking. “Worried about me, Gray?” “Terrified,” I admit. “I thought it was better.”
