“What if they don’t let me in?” he asks, his eyes frenzied, his hand sweating in mine. “I’m not family.” “You are,” I say, as we step in line at the reception desk. “You’re her grandson.” Lex’s breath wooshes out of him as he runs a hand across his cheek, his eyes meeting mine, glassy and wide. “Stop it,” he whispers to me, pulling me into him and pressing a kiss to my mouth. “Stop being so fucking wonderful.”
