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“In my very best dreams, I saw Gray. I saw him as I tried to remember him--happy. Usually wearing nothing more than his boxers, in the bed that used to be ours. With his thick, dark hair flopping over his forehead, some soft electricity glowing in his green eyes. Sometimes, he laughed. Others, he took my face in his powerful hands and brushed his sculpted mouth over mine. The man now standing on my street at two A.M. may have been Grayson Stryker. But he wasn't Gray... I'd imagined this reunion a thousand times. But we were't trading stilted pleasantries, now. This was something different than a chance encounter. Something darker. A reckoning.” — Ari Wright
In my very best dreams, I saw Gray.
I saw him as I tried to remember him--happy. Usually wearing nothing more than his boxers, in the bed that used to be ours. With his thick, dark hair flopping over his forehead, some soft electricity glowing in his green eyes. Sometimes, he laughed. Others, he took my face in his powerful hands and brushed his sculpted mouth over mine.
The man now standing on my street at two A.M. may have been Grayson Stryker.
But he wasn't Gray...
I'd imagined this reunion a thousand times. But we were't trading stilted pleasantries, now. This was something different than a chance encounter. Something darker.
A reckoning.