I give him a look. “You’re killing the moment, Cupcake.”

But Gray grins, his big hand caressing my side. “It’s turning you on. Just admit it.”

I snicker, leaning into his touch. “Yeah, okay,” I whisper. “A little.” Sexy stranger Gray was exciting, but this is the Gray I love with all I am.

He chuckles low, contented, and gently cups my breast. “I knew it.” He palms me, moving in a slow circle. “Let’s go home, and we can celebrate properly.”

I’m about to agree when he hits a spot that is tender. “Ow, careful.”

Gray frowns. “That hurt you?”

“Yeah, it’s a little sore.”

His face grows eerily blank as he gently touches the spot, then draws a sharp breath. “What the fuck?”

“What?” I ask, alarmed.

“This,” Gray hisses, wrenching my shirt further down. With a grim look, he bends close and prods at my breast. “This…lump.” The word comes out like a curse.

Frowning, I bat his hand away and feel for myself. Okay, there’s a small lump on the fleshy side of my breast. “Huh. I’ve never noticed that.”

“Never noticed?” he cries in outrage. “Jesus, Ivy. Don’t you check your breasts?”

Normally I’d laugh, never expecting a guy to even know about that. But this is Gray. He’s seen his mom die from breast cancer. So I keep my voice low, calm. “Of course I do. This is new.”

“New?” He presses his fingers to his eyes. “Fuck. Fuck.” His hand falls and he levels me a blue-eyed glare. “You have to get it checked. Now.”

“I can’t go now. It’s late at night—”

“We’ll go to a clinic.” He paws at my breast again, moving it this way and that, angrily prodding it as if he can will the lump away.

“Gray,” I snap, pushing at his hand and trying pull up my shirt. “Would you stop?”

“No.” He’s beside himself, his voice almost shrill. “Are you even listening to me? You need to get this checked.”

My temper breaks. “Calm the fuck down. Someone is going to come in here any second.”

As if timed, there’s a knock on the door and a tentative, “Uh, is everything okay in there?”

“Fine,” I shout, just as Gray yells, “Go away.”

“Not helping,” I snarl at Gray. But the distraction lets me get my top up and my breasts covered.

“I give a fuck what that guy out there thinks,” Gray snaps back. “You’re not taking this seriously. You have a lump.” He’s shouting now. “A goddamn lump. Do you even care?”

I’ve never seen him like this. His skin is ashy, his eyes wide and wild. He’s shaking so hard now, I’m afraid for his health. “Gray, baby, you need to calm down. It’s okay—”

“It’s not okay,” he bellows. “You have a lump. Fuck.” Gray stumbles back, his hip hitting a shelf and sending brooms clattering to the floor like matchsticks. “Fuck! I can’t…” He grabs the ends of his hair and clutches them as he stumbles backward to the door. “Can’t breathe.”

“Gray!”

But he’s wrenching the door open. “I can’t do this again.”

Before I can say another word, he flees. Gone so fast, I swear I feel the air stir. And I’m left alone, wondering what the hell just happened.

Twenty-Five

Ivy

It’s scary how quickly life can turn to shit. One second, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. The next, your head is spinning and your heart is a bleeding wound within your chest. Thirteen hours after Gray’s complete meltdown, I’m still reeling. And I can’t find him. He’s just gone.

Though hurt at Gray’s abandonment, I did as he asked. I’d swallowed back the urge to cry or rant and went to see the on-call doctor. One exam and a few tests later, I have my answers and am free to walk out of the clinic on legs that feel wooden and uncoordinated.

Standing on the sidewalk, I stare blankly at the parking lot. My brain has gone on vacation or something, because I can’t seem to process what I’ve been told. The results were not what I’d expected, not at all. In the distance, my little pink Fiat shines like a beacon. I focus on it, trying to bring my thoughts to order. Gray. I need to find him. I need him.

Hot rage surges up my throat, and I grind my teeth against the urge to scream. He left me. Ran away. And I know why, I do. It doesn’t stop the anger. Especially now.

I look down at the papers I’m clutching. My hand shakes a little, and I draw in a deep breath of cold December air.

Jamming the papers in my purse, I fish out my phone. The shaking has stopped, replaced by a steely determination that makes my muscles strain. Dialing, I start striding to my car.

Drew answers on the third ring.

“It’s Ivy.” My throat feels like raw meat. “I can’t find Gray.”

It’s hard telling Drew the whole, shitty story. But he needs to know why Gray took off so he can help me track him down.

“Hell,” Drew says when I finish. “I think I know where he might have gone. Let me talk to him, okay?”

“You do that.” It amazes me how calm I sound. When inside, I’m falling apart.

“Ivy.” Drew hesitates. “You have to understand—”

“I do,” I cut in. “Doesn’t make it right.”