Page 18

CHAPTER 18

GRIFFIN

A fter my shower, I dry off and wrap a towel around my waist. I brush my teeth and put on some deodorant before I grab a pair of boxer briefs from my dresser. I’m about to put them on when Christine raps her knuckles on my door and calls my name. Dropping the towel in the hamper, I slip the boxers on and then hurry over, turning the knob, eager to set eyes on the woman I’m officially dating.

“Hey,” I say, grinning like a cheeseball.

Her answering smile is shy. “Hi.”

I step aside. “Come on in, Goldilocks.”

She passes by me, progressing deeper into my room while I close the door. When I turn around, she’s standing in place with wide eyes, wringing her hands as she takes in my half-naked state. A blush creeps up her cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were busy.”

I slowly approach, stopping in front of her. “It's fine,” I say, trying to act casual even as my heart rate picks up because she’s here like we discussed. I wasn’t sure she’d follow through.

Her gaze flicks over my bare chest and abs before snapping back to my face. She clears her throat and shifts from one foot to another.

“Why are you so nervous?”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous,” she spits the words out so rapidly they’re jumbled together.

“Christine.” I place a hand on her shoulder.

She avoids making eye contact. “What?” Her green orbs ping from one side of my chest to the other, and she swallows noticeably.

“Look at me.” Her gaze slowly shifts to meet mine. “This is a safe space for you, but if you’d rather stay in your room, I’m okay with that.”

She shakes her head. “I want to be here. I just feel awkward.”

“There’s no need to be. Nothing is going to happen that you’re not on board with. You and I are going to lie in bed next to one another. We don’t even have to make contact. I can put pillows down the middle if you want.”

Her lips curve and she shakes her head. “That’s not necessary. I’m feeling awkward because I’ve never slept with a guy before.”

“You’re a virgin?” My voice cracks like a teenage boy.

She giggles. “No. I’ve had sex, but I’ve never spent the night with a guy.”

“Well, I’m excited your first sleepover is happening with me.” Leaning forward, I place my lips near her ear. “Want to hear a secret?” She nods, making her soft, silky hair sweep across my cheek. “This will be the first time someone else has slept in this bed with me.”

She turns her face toward mine, leaving an inch between our mouths. “Really?” she whispers.

“Yes. This will be a new experience for both of us.”

She remains silent, but I can tell she’s thinking about what I said. And sure enough, she confirms it by asking, “Why haven’t you had any women sleep over?”

“I don’t like to share my private space.”

“You share all your spaces with me,” she points out.

“That’s because I care about you, and I like having you here.”

A smile spreads across her face. “I care about you too, and I like being here.”

“Good.” I point to the open doorway off to the side of my room. “The bathroom’s through there if you need it.”

“I’m all set.”

“Which side do you sleep on?” I ask.

“It depends on the night.”

“What?”

She laughs. “Sometimes the left side feels more comfortable and sometimes the right does. I usually sleep alone, so why wouldn’t I utilize the whole bed?”

I scratch my chin. “I don’t know, it just seems wrong.”

She playfully shoves my arm. “Which side do you want? It’s your bed.”

“I’ll take the right.”

“Do you mean the right if I’m looking at the bed or if I’m in it?” she asks, tittering when she sees my frustration.

I scoop her from her feet, into my arms, and carry her over to the bed. “You sleep here.” I toss her down, and she lets out a squeak as she bounces on the mattress.

“This is the left side, but if I was standing at the foot of the bed it’s also the right side,” she explains, a hint of humor showing in her expression as she slips under the comforter.

I chuckle as I turn off the nightstand lamp. “Technically, you're correct. I should’ve been more specific, but you’re overthinking this.” I crawl under the covers, settling on my side, facing her. “How are you doing? Comfortable?”

She wiggles around, and I suddenly wish I were the mattress so I could feel her curvy little ass rubbing on me. “Mmm, you were on point about your bed being just right.”

“And you’re not even getting all the benefits it can provide.” I wink.

“All in good time, sir,” she replies, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“How does it feel to have your first coed sleepover?”

She rolls her lips together, looking thoughtful. “It’s nice and cozy.” She turns onto her side. “I feel safe.”

My heart feels like it swells to double its normal size at her words, and I smile. “I’m glad.”

For a brief moment, we fall silent, simply looking at one another, and I become acutely aware of our close proximity. My gaze drifts to her lips, barely touching on them before I firmly remind myself why kissing her would be a terrible idea. Behave.

“Griffin?”

“Hmm?”

“Does your tattoo have special meaning for you?” she asks, referring to the black and gray hummingbird on the left side of my ribcage.

Her unexpected question catches me off guard, and a lump of emotion lodges in my throat. I pause for a moment until it lessens. “Yeah, it does.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

I nod. “Yes, I do. The first spring after my mom passed away, a hummingbird repeatedly visited me in our yard. I’d never seen one before then.”

Her mouth curves with a soft smile. “It was your mom letting you know she’s still watching over you.”

“Yeah.” I clear the emotion from my throat. “That’s what I thought too, so I figured I’d tattoo it as a permanent reminder that she’s always with me.”

“That’s really beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure you miss her.”

“I do, but it was harder when she first passed. Time may not be able to completely take away the pain of losing a loved one, but it does help it lessen. I still think about her every single day, but those moments usually involve me remembering her smile or the sound of her voice. They’re comforting thoughts that keep her present in my life.”

“I’m sure she’s watching over you. She must be so proud of all you’ve accomplished.”

“I hope she is.”

“Do you mind me asking what happened to her?” she asks.

“Not at all. She went for a walk, which she did every afternoon. But on this particular day she decided to take a different route that placed her on the main road for about a half mile. A drunk driver swerved at the last minute to avoid another car, lost control, and drove onto the sidewalk hitting my mom. She spent two days in the hospital on life support but when the doctor told us she had no brain activity, my dad made the decision to take her off of it. She wouldn’t have wanted machines keeping her alive.”

“Oh my God, Griffin. That’s so tragic. I’m so sorry your family had to go through that.”

“Thank you. It was the worst time of my life but I’ll always be grateful I was able to say goodbye to her. Even though she was technically gone, I still feel somehow she knew I was there.”

“Of course she did.” Christine scoots over until she’s close enough for me to feel the heat of her body in front of mine. “Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”

“Thank you for being such a wonderful listener. We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, we should.” I wrap my arm around her. “Is this okay?”

“Mhmm.” Her eyelids fall closed, and almost instantly, her breathing slows, telling me she’s already drifted off. I don’t know if I’ve fallen asleep that quickly in my entire life.

I lie still, enjoying how natural it feels to be holding her. She seems so tiny in my arms, and I draw her closer. I just want to protect her from anything hurtful whether she’s awake or asleep. I’ve never wanted to share my bed with anyone before. Sleep is important to me, plus I’m a large guy and take up a lot of space.

Christine is the first person I’ve ever spoken about my mom with in such detail. I find myself wanting to open myself up more to share all the parts of myself I usually keep hidden. Telling her about my hummingbird tattoo was difficult, but it also brought up happy memories of my mom. I may not have had as much time with her as I wanted, but her love for me was loud and unrestrained. She loved me every second of every single day, and that’s enough to last a lifetime.

I know she’d approve of Christine. What’s there not to like about her? My mom might even be looking down and thinking Christine is too good for me. The thought makes me smile and fills my chest with a pleasant warmth. Closing my eyes, I focus on savoring that feeling before I drift off to sleep.

I wake up before my alarm goes off, Christine still in my arms. With her back to my front, her ass is pressed against my morning wood. Goddamn, it’s taking all my control not to rub against her. She lets out a soft sigh in her sleep, and I press a kiss to the top of her head. Carefully maneuvering my arm from under her, I slowly climb from the bed. I don’t want to wake her, so I grab my phone and use the bathroom downstairs.

E.Z. wanders down the hall with me as I move toward the kitchen. “What’s up, buddy? Did you sleep on Christine’s bed? Sorry, dude, but your little sleepovers with her have come to an end.” I bend down to scratch behind his ears to lessen my verbal blow. I add fresh water and food to his bowls and then start preparing breakfast for Christine and me.

The bacon starts to sizzle in the frying pan as I whisk the eggs in a stainless steel bowl. I let my mind linger over how amazing and natural it felt to wake up with her in my arms. Especially when I’m not used to sharing my bed with anyone aside from my cat. I slept deeply, and feel more rested than I have in months.

The bacon splatters, snapping me back to reality. I turn down the burner setting and flip each slice over. Adding another frying pan to the stove, I melt some butter and pour the eggs in. They cook slowly, and I move them around to keep them from browning up too much.

“Good morning,” Christine calls out, and I spin around, spatula in hand.

“Hey.” I grin. “I was trying to let you get as much sleep as possible.”

She pads over to me on her bare feet, and I notice her purple toenails. Even her feet are adorably sexy. My gaze climbs up her legs, left bare in the pajama shorts and t-shirt she slept in.

I smell the eggs overcooking, and get busy moving them around in the pan.

“I’m glad I woke up. I would’ve missed this view.” She slips her arms around my waist from the side, watching me cook.

“I wanted to make sure you had breakfast before class.”

I wrap my free arm around her and use the other to remove the bacon from the pan, setting it on a paper-towel-covered plate.

“Thank you. That’s so sweet, but you don’t need to take care of me. I’m capable of fending for myself.”

Leaning down, I place a kiss on her forehead. “I like taking care of you. Besides, I have the day off and you don’t. Tomorrow I won’t be able to do this. Why don’t you grab a drink and sit down. I’ll have this ready in no time.”

She nods and slips away toward the fridge. I focus on plating the eggs and bacon and making toast.

“You look hot cooking me breakfast in only your boxer briefs. Like a book boyfriend brought to life.”

I peer over my shoulder, finding her chin propped on both hands and elbows on the island as she watches me. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” I say, winking.

“You’re killing it on your own. You don’t need to be anything else.”

“That’s nice of you to say, but I’m not sure I’m the ideal version of a boyfriend.”

“Why do you say that?” she asks.

“Well, I have limited experience, so that doesn’t help. And I work in a male-centric field where we’re not exactly careful of each other’s feelings. That doesn’t mean we’re not supportive of one another, though. I just mean the language we use with each other isn’t always kind.”

The toast pops up, and I quickly spread butter on each slice. I add them to each plate along with a fork, and sit down beside her.

“Thank you.” She immediately bites off a chunk of bacon. “Yum,” she says, chewing. Her feet tap against the stool’s metal rung.

I make a sandwich out of my food before I begin eating. She sips her orange juice, and I feel her watching me over the rim of her glass.

“What? Do you think it’s weird that I make a sandwich?”

She laughs. “No. I was thinking about what you said a minute ago about your job. You were saying playing football and the people you work with might make you insensitive. Or at least that’s what I think you meant.”

“Yeah, it’s possible. But it also taught me to have a killer work ethic, how to work with others, how to focus, and how to push through during situations when you feel like you can’t. I like to think I’ve gained more positives than negatives.”

“You know I think you’re a great guy. You’re kind, thoughtful, and respectful. We shared a bed last night and you didn’t even kiss me.”

“Are you complaining?” I tease.

“No. Yes. Maybe.” She snickers before continuing, “But my point is, that’s the epitome of respecting a woman. I always feel safe with you, and you’ve never said anything to me that rang as insensitive.”

“Feel free to tell me if I do.”

Her lips curve. “Oh, I will. I may not speak up for myself when it comes to my mom, but I do better with others.”

I rub the back of my fingers over my jaw. “When our parents were here I noticed your mom…” I pause as I try to come up with the right words.

“Is bossy as fuck with me?” she finishes helpfully.

“Yeah, pretty much. Why do you let her get away with that?”

She chews thoughtfully, her gaze on the ceiling before she turns toward me. “There’s more than one reason, but in some situations it’s just easier to do what she wants than to deal with her pushing back. But now that I’m not living under her roof, I think it will be easier for me to stand up to her.”

“I get that. And my dad is strong willed too. He likes to bulldoze right through my life, like when he had you all surprise me before Christmas.”

She grimaces. “I felt horrible about that, but thinking back, you handled it better than I would’ve. You still made us feel welcome.”

“I was angry with him, not you or your mom. But now maybe I should kiss his feet for putting us together in this situation.”

She pats my hand. “I don’t think that’s necessary, but you brought up something we need to discuss. What are we going to do when our parents are here?”

“The usual. Eat, drink, sleep.”

She rolls her eyes. “I mean, do you think we should hide that we’re…” She spins on her stool until her entire body is turned toward me. “What are we doing anyway?”

“We’re dating until you’re ready to call me your boyfriend.”

“Not to pressure me or anything,” she says with humor.

“You know I’ll be patient with you. I told you I’d wait as long as you need, and I didn’t just mean sexually. There’s no clock ticking down a time limit. We’re taking things slowly, and we’ll be better for it in the long run.”

Christine raises her shiny lips toward me, and I can’t resist the temptation. Not just because of the bacon grease, but because I’ll take any opportunity to bring us closer. She evokes emotions in me I wasn’t sure I was capable of. I press a soft kiss to her mouth, licking my lips as I draw back.

“What were we talking about?” I joke.

“We still need to figure out if we’re going to tell our parents we’re dating or not.”

“What do you think?” I ask, trying to get a feel for what she wants.

“Maybe we should keep it to ourselves for now. It’s new, and we don’t need our parents expressing their disapproval.”

“I agree. But do you really think they’d be upset about us?”

“I’m not sure, but I can’t say I want to find out.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s keep it between us. Although, I told Thor we kissed.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“He encouraged me to pursue whatever makes me happy.”

She places her hand on her chest. “And that’s me?”

“Damn straight it is.”

Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss. Just before our lips connect, she whispers, “You make me happy too.”