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As the tears wind down, my body goes rigid as the thoughts wind up. The thought factory is spiraling off the rails. My muscles tense in preparation to stand, to back away, but Griffin’s arms tighten around me right before I can move.

“Nope,” he says. “You’re not going anywhere. Because I’m not going anywhere. Let me go ahead and directly address some of what I think is going on up here,” he says, motioning toward my head.

“Yes, I overheard most of what your parents said. Yes, it’s taking a tremendous amount of self-restraint not to track them down and show them exactly what I think of them. No, I am not your parents. I don’t love you because you add value to my life—even though you do. I love you because of who you are, because of your heart, yourtenderness, your concern for others, your passion for books and Jason and teaching. I love you for all the amazing ways you bring light to the world. I am here, and I am not leaving,” he says.

I love you. His words register in my mind, and my eyes double in size.

“You love me?” I whisper.

Griffin slowly tucks a strand of (wet) hair behind my ear and gently wipes my (wet) cheeks with his thumb before he answers. “I love you, Danae. And before you say anything, I should tell you one other thing. Now that I better understand the context of your suspicion toward people with financial wealth, I want to be up-front and tell you that this past week I paid in advance for six months of Jason’s weekly therapy and occupational therapist appointments.”

Jerking back, my brain struggles to choose an emotional direction. “You what? Griffin, you can’t just—”

“I am not throwing my wealth around to show off. I’m not trying to buy anyone’s affection or good graces. I have resources, and I’m investing them in something I care about. Someone. Well, two someones. Because I care about you and Jason. So paying to make sure he gets the professional help he needs to process his trauma—to supportyouin that way—is an absolute no-brainer. And it’s already done, so there’s no point in trying to talk me out of it. And I’ll continue paying as long as he needs to keep going,” Griffin states, no-nonsense tone engaged.

I flop against his chest, dead weight once again.

“I know that being with me is complicated. And . . . unideal, in a lot of ways, but I’m doing anything I can to show you that you and Jason are safe with me,” Griffin murmurs against my ear. His fingertips graze paths up and down my forearm, and my eyes track the movement, slowly calming my body.

“Griff?” I whisper, still watching his fingers.

“Mmhmm?” he hums.

Lifting my head to face him, I say, “I love you too.”

His hand finds my cheek, thumb tracing the line of my lips, then making its way up to brush the final tear from under my eye. He whispers, “I hate to see you cry, but the green of your eyes iseven more emerald in person. You’re so beautiful when you cry—even though I wish I never had to see it happen ever again.”

I lean in to his lips, my heart calming at the contact.

Safe. We’re safe.

Aren’t we?

Chapter thirty-six

Griffin

The energy of the locker room is one part nerves to three parts excitement.

It’s opening day.

We’re lucky to have our first series at home, which means it’s also our home opener for the season. Kansas City fans show up ready to tailgate the minute the parking lot opens, and a lot of people take the day off of work and pull their kids out of school in order to attend the afternoon game.

Unfortunately, Danae and Jason arenottaking off of work and school in order to be here today, which means my own energy is in reverse proportion to the rest of the team’s. I’m so ready to get back out on the field in our own stadium, to hear the roar of the Crowns fans—I only wish the two individuals who have skyrocketed to the top of my “most important people” list could be here.

When Danae was weighing the decision of whether or not to skip school today for the opening game, I convinced her not to. They’ll be here for the games on Saturday and Sunday, where they’ll get to meet my parents, which is way more important. Expecting Danae to play hooky for me would be unreasonable, especially after the media fiasco last week and the ensuing catastrophe with her parents.

Did I find out where they live and casually drive by to scope things out?

I plead the fifth.

It’s the right call to not make her come today. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.

My vision suddenly goes dark as the visor of my baseball cap tips down to cover my face. I know without seeing that it was Adrian’s doing, so I flail a fist to make contact with his body as I pull my hat up. He feigns serious injury for a split second before breaking into a grin and plopping down next to me.

“Ready for the day, West?” he asks.

I nod.