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Chapter thirty-four

Griffin

ME

I get to see your beautiful face in person today. Can you come to my house straight from school? I should get there by three.

DANAE

I can’t wait to see you, but it will probably be a couple of hours after the end of school before we can make it over. I have to decorate the library for a special event tomorrow.

ME

Then can I come there to help you?

DANAE

Are you sure you want to do that?

ME

I’m positive I want to see you every second that I possibly can. And also positive that I want to help you in every way I can.

DANAE

Then come on over. Maybe wait till the pick-up line dwindles down. Maybe around 3:30? I’ll let you in the side door.

ME

Sounds good. What’s your go-to coffee shop order?

DANAE

Morning or afternoon?

ME

Both.

DANAE

Mornings = hot vanilla latte. Afternoons = decaf caramel cold brew.

ME

Of course that was my general question of the morning, not relevant to any occurrences today.

DANAE

winky-face emoji What’s yours?

ME

One cup of black coffee in the morning. Never in the afternoon.

DANAE

So I’m drinking alone this afternoon, huh?

ME

You’ll be the only one with a coffee, but you absolutely won’t be alone.

“Sneaking me in past the principal, huh?” I tease as I step into the building with Danae. “This is giving forbidden vibes, and I can’t say I dislike it.”

Danae slaps my chest, and I catch her hand to hold it there while I take a step closer to her.

We’re in the entry between the locked outer doors and the second set of glass doors opening into the hallway of the school, and I intend to take advantage of this illusion of privacy.

A quick glance ensures that the hallway is empty, so I wrap an arm around Danae’s waist and pull her to me.

I graze a gentle kiss across her lips, smiling when she sighs and relaxes against me. Threading my fingers through her hair, I kiss her a little more firmly but still stay on the low end of the “passionate” spectrum. Breaking away from her lips, I brush the tip of my nose against hers.

“These past four days have been worse than the post-surgery pain,” I murmur.

“Worse than a first grader swiping an entire display of book fair knick-knacks off the table,” she replies.

I lean back and raise an eyebrow. “Wait, has that actually happened?”

“He didn’t have enough money left over for the chocolate bar calculator. It was very distressing,” Danae says gravely. “And a huge headache to clean up.”

“I have a confession to make,” I say. “I just realized I left your iced coffee in the car. But I don’t want to let go of you to go get it.”

Trailing one finger down her arm, I take her hand in mine, pleased by her shiver that follows my touch. She shakes her head slightly, as if clearing her mind. “I don’t care about the coffee.”

“Good,” I say. “Let’s go get that library decorated so we can get to my house.”

Following her through the hallway, we step through the double doors of the library.

I recognize her friend, Kara, standing there keeping Jason occupied, and I make a mental note to thank her for running interference to give me that first moment alone with Danae.

An autographed jersey for her husband should work, after hearing about Ron’s ecstatic reaction to the first round of autographed merch I gave him.

When Jason sees us enter, he sprints across the room. I kneel down to catch him in a hug. “Fireball! I missed you!”

“Mr. Griffin! You’re here at my school! This is so cool.

Too bad all my friends are gone already because they know that my mom is dating you now, and I promised that someday I’d bring you here to meet everyone, and they act like they don’t believe me, but I think they’re just jealous.

” His words are one unending, stream-of-consciousness sentence.

Pulling back to see his face, I scan his green eyes, the freckles that have multiplied under the spring sun, that red hair that stands out like a fire signal.

Man, I missed this kid . My heart is suddenly tight, like a fist clenching to brace for the impact of a punch.

“It’s good to see you. I’ll definitely come visit sometime when your friends are here. I’ll work it out with your mom, okay?”

Standing up, I nod my head at Kara. “Good to see you again, Kara. We’ll have to get you and Ron out to some games with Danae and Jason sometime this season.”

She turns to look at Danae. “This friendship is winning me ‘wife of the year’ status for the rest of my life.” Turning back to me, she adds, “I gladly accept the offer. Not all of us are baseball-haters.”

“Hey!” Danae exclaims with mock offense. “No need to make me look bad.”

“Nothing could make you look bad, babe.” I watch both women melt before my eyes. I wink at Danae and add, “Now put me to work. What are we decorating?”

“I’ve gotta go pick up Millie from daycare,” Kara says. “But I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Danae.” Her insistent tone adequately communicates the demand behind her statement. I hide a smile.

“Okay, we’re transforming this space from regular library into reading café extraordinaire,” Danae says, pulling out a tub labeled “Reading Week Supplies.”

“And why’s that?” I ask, mostly because I want to hear her passion for her job come through in the explanation.

“We’ve been celebrating reading all week, but tomorrow we have an extra-special experience,” she explains.

“The fifth graders get to dress up and act like the servers at a fancy reading restaurant, helping the younger kids find books they might like. Then they serve cookies before sitting down at the tables to read a book aloud to a small group of students.”

Grinning at the enthusiasm in her voice, I say, “I love it. What a great way for the younger grades to see reading as a special experience.”

Danae beams at my praise. “ And it’s an opportunity for the oldest kids to model helpful behavior for the younger students. Plus, work on their reading fluency. It’s one of my favorite days of the year, even if it’s a lot of extra work.”

We spend the next thirty minutes draping twinkle lights from the ceiling and covering the overhead lights with sheer fabric to soften the fluorescent glow.

We rearrange tables and cover them with tablecloths and book character-inspired centerpieces.

Jason flits around adding finishing touches and filling me in on the many, many things that have transpired in his life over the past four days.

As the space comes together, I let out a low whistle.

“Looks pretty amazing. Maybe I would have enjoyed reading slightly more if it had been approached this way when I was a kid,” I say.

“Speaking of you enjoying reading, have you made any progress on the audiobook?” Danae asks, layering excessive amounts of casual into her tone.

“I’ll have you know I finished it on the flight here,” I say, feeling far too proud for a grown man who just admitted to completing a children’s fiction book.

When Danae’s eyes sparkle with delight, the pride runs deeper. Jason’s enthusiastic cheer only serves to pile it on.

“And?” Danae asks.

I clear my throat. “And it was . . . good.”

“Just good?” she clarifies.

“You know how you told me that you could see how other people enjoy the atmosphere of baseball games?” I ask.

Her mouth quirks as she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. I smile and continue, “I can see how you and Jason love it. But I’d still rather be listening to a sports podcast than a bunch of kid wizards learning how to make objects float in the air.

I think this was a one and done experience. ”

Jason immediately lets out a wail of offense, launching into an explanation about how this is only the beginning, and the books get so much better as you learn more about the characters . . .

His voice fades from my consciousness, though, as Danae saunters toward me, a flirtatious smile on her face. She leans onto her tiptoes and places her hand on one of my cheeks and her lips on the other. “I appreciate you trying it,” she says. “Even if you sorely lack literary taste.”

I catch her in my arms and tickle her sides, burying my face in her neck under the guise of punishing her for that comment, but really I want to inhale her scent. That smell I’ve been aching for the past four days that felt more like four decades apart from her.

How did I get here? So completely gone for a woman I’ve known less than three months?

I’m not sure how it happened, but I’m definitely gone. And I don’t want to be found.

After completing the library transformation, I convince Danae to transfer Jason’s booster over to my Jeep to ride over to my house together. I don’t care that I’ll have to drive them back to her car later tonight—I don’t want to spend a single second apart. Not even a twenty-minute drive.

I answer all of Jason’s questions about the exhibition games in Texas and ask him about his predictions for the upcoming season. The kid has a remarkable grasp on the game, not only from an enjoyment level, but an analytical level.

We’re getting out of the car in the garage when the second garage door opens and Sam pulls in.

Jason immediately starts jumping up and down next to the driver’s door, and I see the enamored grin on Sam’s face.

I think she’s almost as far gone for Danae and Jason as I am, in her own sister and auntie way .

“My guy, you ready for some dinner and Mario Kart?” Sam asks as she hugs Jason. “I picked up the best Chinese food in town. Can you help me carry it?”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” Jason yells, throwing in a serious salute. Sam hands him the lighter bag of food, then pauses to hug Danae before grabbing the other bag.

I heat up the meal that my chef left in the fridge because the start of the season means sticking to my assigned food regimen as much as possible. I enjoy watching Jason’s attempts to use chopsticks, though, before he gives up and reaches for a fork.

Danae and I start clearing the table after dinner, and Sam convinces Jason to go with her to get warmed up on Mario Kart. “I promise I’ll come join you here in a little bit,” I say. “After I get everything cleaned up and talk with your mom.”

“And after you smoochy-kiss,” Jason adds, making ridiculously cheesy kissing faces.

Rising to the teasing challenge of this ten-year-old kid, I take Danae’s hand, twirl her around, and pull her to me for a quick “smoochy-kiss.”

“Ahhh, my eyes are melting,” Jason says, palms covering his eyes. His toothy smile gives away his true feelings, though.

“You better get some practice rounds in before I totally school you at Mario Kart,” I say, shooing him toward the basement door. As soon as the door closes, I pull Danae back into a true smoochy-kiss. “You can leave the dishes. I’ll clean up later.”

It’s one of those spring days when the sun is warming the earth to a just-right temperature, so I lead Danae to the back porch.

The saucer magnolia trees in my backyard are in full pink bloom, turning the covered porch into an oasis with a view.

I have several seating options available, but I guide her to the large, cushioned porch swing.

She pulls her feet up, and I wrap an arm around her knees, locking her in close to me.

“So, tell me how the past few days have been. And be honest,” I say.

She seemed okay by the end of our video call that first day the news story broke.

Still, I’ve worried that the cons column of the “Being with Griffin” list may have multiplied in my absence.

From what I could tell, news stations seemed to mostly kill the story, and she hasn’t told me about any other media ambushes at home or at school.

But there was always the niggling doubt that she could be secretly reevaluating our relationship without telling me.

Danae pauses a moment to take in the view, as though gathering her thoughts from the corners of the yard. “Weird,” she finally answers.

“Weird doesn’t sound great. Weird makes me nervous,” I say.

She looks at me with a half-smile. “Oh, good. Finally, I’m not the only one who’s anxious all the time. I finally found something for you to be nervous about.”

“You underestimate the amount of anxiety I consistently have that at any given moment you’re going to see right through me and walk away,” I say. I’ve pushed levity into my tone to cover up the very raw truth at the surface of my statement.

Danae’s eyes soften, and she reaches up to trace my jaw with her fingers. “I see you, Griff. You . And I’m not tempted to walk away from you. It’s the rest of the circus that makes things confusing.” Her eyes drop, and my heart follows.

“I’m sorry about the circus. I’m sorry that who I am isn’t always the soft, quiet place you need,” I say, studying her fingernails.

They’re growing back after clear evidence of an attack, freshly painted with glossy clear polish.

I take a deep breath, willing myself to press forward. “What’s been the hardest part?”

“My parents keep calling me,” Danae says, and my eyes shoot up to hers in surprise. “I haven’t answered any of their calls. I’m pretty sure I know the gist of what they might have to say, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to withstand their manipulation.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, taking her hand in mine to halt her thumb’s assault on that fresh coat of polish.

She sighs, long and slow. “I’m sure they saw the news about us dating. And I’m sure that they’re suddenly very interested in being back in my life now that I’m in a relationship with someone famous. Someone famous and wealthy.”

Sadness and rage wrestle in my chest as I watch tears prick her eyes as she continues.

“I’d be worthwhile to them again now that I’m not throwing my life away as a teacher and single mom to a ‘broken kid.’” The phrase is emphasized by her sarcasm and air quotes, and the rage wins out over the sadness that her parents actually spoke those words to her. About Jason.

“Why don’t you call them right now? While I’m here with you,” I say before even thinking it through. Her eyes are the ones to shoot to mine with surprise now. “I’m serious. You can’t avoid them forever, and that’s not a confrontation you should have alone.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. Her tone is hesitant, but her eyes shimmer with hope.

I lean in to gently kiss her lips, sealing my assurance. “I’ll go get your phone. You’re not doing this alone, Danae. We’re a team. I’m with you.”