CHAPTER SEVENTY UNRIVALED

GREYSON’S POV I was learning a lot more about her, seeing her in ways I never thought I’d have the chance to, and relishing every moment of it. To say that she was intoxicating was an understatement. I would happily lose myself completely if it meant that I could be around her, breathe her in, see her laugh, and watch her exist. Unlike most of the women I had encountered in my life, of which there were many, she was in touch with her emotions. She wasn’t acting coy or batting her eyelashes at me in an attempt to be seductive; she was genuinely shy and as transparent as the clearest of crystals, which was something new to me. Her cheeks reddened at the slightest compliment, but I wasn’t trying to be sweet in any way; I was being sincere. She was the most exquisite person I had ever seen, and the so-called art at the museum could not even hold a candle to her. I found it alluring that she considered watching art as something interesting enough to do when she had the chance to re