Page 35 of Accidental Husband

Instead, my head goes right to Griff. To his soft waves, his dark eyes, his tattooed arms.

"Imagine you were completely relaxed, the way you are when you fuck yourself. That he was that good," Griff says.

"Sure." I swallow hard. Relaxed about sex with Griff? Not possible. But I try to push my thoughts in the right direction. Hot celebrity. Alcohol. Hands. Lips. Limbs.

"He strips you out of your clothes slowly. The t-shirt. Then the shorts. Then he unhooks your bra gently, stares like you're the best thing he's ever seen, whispersyou have perfect tits."

Fuck. I step forward, breaking our touch. "I get your point." My iced green tea is good. Crisp, clear, utterly unable to lower my temperature.

"I'm not sure you do."

"I've had sex."

"You don't wish your first time was better?"

"What use is wishing?" I swallow another sip.

"I do."

"What?" I press the cold glass to my wrist. The one bearing his tattoo design. God, when Jackson found out Griff was the one who designed my ode to… mental health… Thank God that's over. (And please, someone, stop me from consuming tequila while trying to keep secrets).

"I wish my first time was better."

"You do not." I clear my throat, but it doesn't clear my head. This is too much.

Griff and I never talk about his introduction to sex. We fought about it so much at the time. He was stupid—he didn't use protection with a girl he barely knew—and I was pissed at him for being irresponsible. For being with some girl he barely knew. For jumping headfirst into sex and leaving me behind.

His fingers curl into my upper arm. "I wish it mattered to me."

I shake my head. That's not true. It can't be. But then Griffin doesn't lie. Ever.

"I barely remember that night. I was too fucking drunk. It was sloppy and fast."

"Thirty seconds?" I try to joke, but there's a heaviness to it.

"Less." His chuckle has that same heaviness. "Intense, yeah, but not memorable. And the shit it did to us." He pulls me closer. "I remember our fight a lot more than I remember her."

"You see me all the time."

"And you matter to me."

"You're never with people who matter to you."

"Never." His arm brushes mine as he reaches into the fridge. He grabs an iced coffee, one with milk and sugar.

"That, um, that bothers you?"

"Sometimes."

"Usually?"

He shakes his head. Turns so he's facing me. "I have you."

"You don't have sex with me."

"Yeah, and maybe that's why I have you."

I swallow hard. I've thought that too. I mean, I don't think about having sex with Griff. I don't want to have sex with Griff.