The way she said his name nearly undid him. Not in the usual way, not the infuriating, sharp tongued, Savannah Grayson sort of way that always managed to get beneath his skin. No, this was worse. Because this time her voice cracked around the edges, and for one fleeting second he caught a glimpse of something real beneath all that frost.
She took a step towards him.
“I never hated the way you called me Savvy,” she admitted, her voice rougher now, quieter too. “I never hated being called love. Or you using my shower without asking.”
Another step.
“I never hated you teasing me. And I still think about that night every time I lie down in that bed.” Her eyes flickered away for half a second before returning to his. “I brush my hair thinking about the way you did it for me. The way you cut mine off just because I asked.”
Rohan’s grin faded into something softer. Dangerous, that.
“I never hated the way your lips lingered by my ear,” she whispered. “Or the way you pretended none of it mattered. That I didn’t matter.” A humourless laugh escaped her. “And somehow that made it worse.”
She stepped closer still until there was barely enough room between them for air.
“So what changed, Savvy?” he asked quietly, his voice low and terribly English in the way it curled around the words.
Savannah looked up at him then, all icy blue eyes and carefully built walls. The sort of eyes that belonged in rainstorms and London winters.
And after a silence that seemed to stretch for years, she finally, almost reluctantly, spoke.
“You’re leaving.” Her breath caught. “And I…I don’t know what changed, but-”
Rohan’s mouth burst into his own crooked, wolfish grin before she could finish.
“Hang on,” he said lightly. “Are you telling me you’ve been tragically in love with me this entire time, darling?”
“I did not say that.”
“No?” His brows lifted innocently. “Sounded very much like that.”
She glared at him.
His grin only widened. “So you are going to miss me.”
“I swear to God-”
“Bit cruel to confess your feelings once a man’s halfway out the door, Savvy.”
That earned him a proper scowl.
“There he is,” he said warmly. “Thought I’d lost you for a second.”
Savannah’s expression faltered despite herself. Then, before he could say another insufferable thing, she looped her arms around his neck and muttered against his mouth-
“Shut up, Paddington.”
And then she kissed him.
Not like before. Not sharp or reckless or angry enough to bruise. This was slow. Lingering.
Careful in a way neither of them knew how to be.
As if they had all the time in the world.
And for those two minutes of nothing but his lips on hers, it did.
I am not usually the biggest rohannah enthusiast but i feel so excited to see how their relationship progresses in tgb… i think they will remind me of jurdan…
want that too but its savannah watching sheffield grayson take away her childhood, her self-worth, her belief in love and her relationship with her sister and now he wants to take away her ability to seek revenge too.