Page 28 of Reckless

I turn back to Griffin, who’s scowling. “Pizza,” he says and gets to his feet, grabbing his shirt and putting it back on. “I ordered it when you were getting cleaned up.”

He pulls away to answer the door, where the delivery guy is still knocking. I sit up and readjust my skirt and panties, my cheeks starting to burn. Oh my God, what was I thinking?

Griffin speaks to the delivery guy, but I can’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. Without his hands on me or his body pressing against mine, I remember all the reasons why this is a bad idea, no matter how good it felt.

He returns with two pizza boxes in hand, the scent of melting cheese and garlic wafting around him. He clears his throat. “Do you want to eat out here or in the kitchen?”

“Here’s fine. I know we just ate earlier, but I’m already starving.” Plus, it’ll give me time to process what just happened.

We sit in silence as he puts slices on paper plates. I chew mechanically, and the greasy food helps settle my roiling stomach and clears out some of the cobwebs in my head. Griffin works through three pieces of pizza before I finish one. Then he disappears for a while. By the time he returns, I’ve finished my plate, and all I feel is tired.

“Are we going to talk about . . .”

His eyes meet mine. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that. You were probably in shock. It’s been an emotional day. Going further now would be a mistake. After we eat, you can crash in my room, and I’ll take the couch out here.”

I nod because I don’t know what else to stay. I can still feel him against me, and part of me wants him back there, but I also know what he’s saying is true. The last thing I’d want is to be his mistake.

Chapter Fourteen

Griffin

“Did you hear me?”

I look at Seth, who frowns at me. “What?”

“I asked if you needed a ride in tomorrow.”

“Thanks, but no. I’m okay.”

Seth sets his phone aside, which is a miracle in and of itself. He’s never far away from that thing, constantly checking my social media accounts and answering emails. I suppose it’s a good thing because I couldn’t care less. My own phone only has a few basic apps, and half the time, I don’t know where the damn thing is. I don’t think I’ve logged into a social media account in years.

“You sure?” Seth asks with a concerned expression. “You’ve been off lately. Do we need to schedule a visit to Pleasant Oaks?”

“Why in the hell are you bringing that up for?”

Pleasant Oaks is a rehabilitation facility I checked myself into after my first film wrapped. There were . . . extenuating circumstances, and I ended up there for thirty days as a show of good faith to the studio I was hoping to keep a relationship with. There was an understanding that it would never happen again.

And it hasn’t.

I may still drink, but I haven’t let it get to that point in a while.

Seth lifts his hands defensively. “I’m just trying to help. You seem distracted. Off.”

“I’m fine. Don’t bring that shit up again,” I warn.

“You’d let me know if something was happening, wouldn’t you? It’s not that girl, is it? The one I told you was bad news.”

“If you needed to know, I’d tell you, but I have to go.” I don’t even deign to respond to his comment about Phoebe. Who I’m with is none of his business. “You can go home for the day if you’re done with everything else.”

Seth’s expression doesn’t betray his thoughts, but I get a judgmental vibe from him anyway. “All right.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say and make my way across the studio to Phoebe’s office.

I’ve given her enough space, as far as I’m concerned. We’re both adults. It happens. That doesn’t mean anything has to change between us. We were both amped up on adrenaline and crashing, looking for a release.

Or maybe I’m fucking lying to myself because I kind of miss her and want to rationalize everything away.

I’ve gotten used to being around her. Maybe I even like it.