Page 23

CHAPTER 23

GRIFFIN

“ M y mom just texted me,” Christine announces, walking into the living room. “They’re only five minutes away.”

I don’t move from my position on the couch, my legs stretched out and feet on the coffee table. “It’s okay,” I say, trying to reassure her.

“So we’re really doing this?”

My lips twitch with an urge to smile. “Yep. There’s no avoiding it.”

“How are you so calm?” she asks, flopping down beside me with a sigh.

“Why are you so worked up?” I counter.

She briefly twists her dark-pink lips into a pretty pout. “They’re going to ruin all our time together.”

I reach out, taking hold of her hand. “I think you mean they’ll ruin our private time, but on a positive note, we’ll still be together. ”

“I know, but it’s been so amazing with only the two of us. What if they make waves between us?”

I squeeze her hand reassuringly. “They won’t. There’s nothing either of them can say that would ruin what we have. This isn’t some little crush that can be snuffed out.”

The deep crease between her eyebrows smooths out and she smiles lovingly at me. “You’re right.” The doorbell rings, and her expression flips to one of disappointment. “Dammit.”

“It’s showtime,” I say, planting my feet on the floor to stand. My hand still joined with Christine’s, I pull her up with me.

“I think my feet are glued to the floor,” she jokes with a weak smile.

I take it as a good sign that she’s making light of the situation, and I lead her to the foyer. I release her hand and pull the door inward. Shirley and my dad charge inside like a couple of bulls waiting to be let loose.

“Hey!” Shirley yells, hugging Christine so hard I think she might topple her.

“Son,” my dad says, shaking my hand before he yanks me into a back-breaking hug.

Christine and I swap places, greeting and hugging our stepparents.

“We’ve missed you two so much,” Shirley says, wiping at the outer corners of her eyes.

“Welcome back,” I reply. “Can I go get your bags for you?”

“That won’t be necessary. We’re staying in a hotel,” my dad says.

My eyebrows rise. “I guess I assumed you’d be here.”

He shakes his head. “We don’t want to interrupt your pregame routine.”

His answer is a pleasant surprise. When he mentioned them coming for the game, I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of them occupying my space leading up to it.

Shirley hooks her arm through my dad’s, adding, “We already checked in, and the hotel is right on the beach.”

“Well, I can’t compete with that. Let’s sit down and catch up,” I suggest, walking toward the kitchen. “Anyone want a drink or something to eat?”

“No, thank you,” Shirley says.

Dad holds up a hand. “All set.”

Christine grabs two water bottles from the fridge, handing one over to me.

“Thanks.”

She shrugs. “You need to drink extra today.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I agree, flashing her a quick grin.

“It’s nice to see my daughter is looking out for her older brother,” Shirley says.

“Stepbrother,” Christine and I correct simultaneously.

Shirley smiles and waves her hand dismissively. “Regardless of the semantics, I know step siblings who are closer than blood related ones.”

Oh, so do we.

I glance at Christine, noticing the hint of humor in the set of her mouth.

“How was the drive?” I ask, changing the subject.

“We hit some stop and go traffic but nothing too bad,” my dad says.

“It seemed faster than usual,” Shirley adds.

My dad lets out a choked sound. “That’s because you slept through most of the trip.”

Shirley giggles. “You know I get carsick unless I’m driving or sleeping. But it was a great nap.”

Watching their interaction makes me smile. They seem genuinely happy together.

My phone beeps and I pull it from my pocket, finding a notification. “I ordered takeout and it’s being delivered now. I hope you’re both good with chicken parmigiana and pasta. I like to have plenty of protein and carbs the night before a game.”

My dad nods. “That sounds great.”

“Be right back.” I head to the front door and step out onto the landing. The teenage delivery driver passes the large bag to me. I take hold of the handles. “Thank you. Have a good night.”

He stares at me wide-eyed for a moment before grinning. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks, man.”

He hurries back to his car, offering a wave before he climbs behind the wheel.

Stepping back inside, I return to the kitchen. Christine helps me open the containers and line them up along the island.

“It smells fantastic,” Shirley says, approaching. “I’m surprised my daughter didn’t offer to cook dinner.”

“She did,” I answer before Christine can. “I wanted her to take the night off since she’s been so busy with school.”

Shirley beams at me. “That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, Griffin’s pretty thoughtful and giving,” Christine says, keeping her tone even, though I see one side of her mouth arcing upward.

We were both certainly giving last night.

Opening the cabinet, I retrieve plates while Christine grabs silverware from a drawer and napkins from the pantry. We meet back at the island, setting everything down in its place as if we’ve been sharing this kitchen for much longer than we have. I catch my dad watching us thoughtfully.

“You two seem to have settled into a routine,” he says.

“Living together has been easier than I expected,” Christine answers. “Your son’s a decent roommate.”

“Decent?” One eyebrow climbs as I feign offense. “I don’t do anything decently. I always deserve above-average status.”

She snorts. “Fine. You’re a good roommate. The best I’ve ever had.”

“Hey!” Shirley objects.

Christine rolls her eyes. “You’re my mom. That doesn’t count as being a roommate.”

I gesture to the food. “Help yourselves before it gets cold.”

Shirley and Dad get busy dishing out their dinner while Christine and I wait behind them. I slip my hand under the back of her baggy sweatshirt, and she twitches at the surprise. I slide my hand around, palm resting on her stomach, and press my lips to her neck. Her head briefly leans on my chest before she steps away from me. I feel a sense of loss as my hand falls from her torso. Peering over her shoulder, she sends me a cautionary glance. I know we should be careful with our parents here, but my desire to touch her overruled my common sense.

After Christine and I load our plates, we join our parents at the table.

“This is delicious,” Shirley says, and my dad grunts, nodding his agreement as he chews.

“What have you two been up to?” I ask.

“Work has been keeping us busy, but I managed to get your father to agree to join a gym,” Shirley says, smiling at my dad.

He shakes his head. “I hope I don’t regret the decision.”

“You won’t,” I say confidently. “Shirley, well done. I’ve been trying to get him in a gym since I was eighteen.”

“She’s more persuasive than you,” Dad says, chuckling.

“No doubt,” I agree, praying he keeps the sordid details to himself.

Fortunately, we fall silent as everyone focuses on devouring what’s on their plate. I place my left hand on Christine’s thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. She turns her head, giving me a what are you doing look, which I choose to ignore, sliding my hand higher. Her gaze darts to our parents, but they’re not paying attention.

“I can’t wait to take a walk on the beach tonight,” Shirley says. “Especially after this meal.”

My fingertips trail across Christine’s inner thigh. I notice a slight hesitation as she draws in her next breath, and I smile to myself.

“I thought we’d relax and watch some sports shows,” my dad says as he and my stepmom continue their conversation around us.

Shirley pats his shoulder. “Nice try, Bert. There’s no reason why we can’t do both.”

“You’re right,” he agrees.

She smiles knowingly. “Of course I am.”

“Griffin, how are you feeling going into the game?”

Dammit, Dad. I shift my torso closer to the table to camouflage me slipping my hand from her leg. “I feel great. We’re playing well.”

“They have a solid defense, though,” he points out.

“They do, but Coach has had us watch and dissect so much film. We know their weaknesses and are prepared to take advantage of them.”

“Their coach has been extremely hard on them. Griffin’s been coming home exhausted,” Christine jumps in.

I nod. “That’s true. I’m confident my teammates and I are as prepared as possible.”

“Well, you look strong and ready,” Dad says.

“Thank you. I feel great. I’ve recently discovered the benefits of an Epsom salt bath and have decided to add that as a regular part of my training recovery.” I nudge my leg into Christine’s.

She sends me a subtle side-eye while the corner of my mouth twitches with the urge to smile.

“Epsom salt baths are wonderful for muscle recovery,” Shirley chimes in. “I’ve been telling your father he should try them too.”

“They’re very relaxing,” I add, my voice deliberately casual. “Christine suggested it after I came home particularly sore the other day. It was a life-changing experience for me.”

“Speaking of relaxing, how long are you two planning to stay?” Christine quickly asks, diverting the conversation to a safer topic.

“We check out Monday morning,” my dad answers. “We both need to return to work Tuesday.”

I notice Christine’s shoulders relax slightly. “Too bad you can’t stay longer,” she says to be polite.

My dad nods. “We’ll just have to come back again soon.”

“So, I’ve been wondering,” Shirley starts, leaning forward with interest. “Are you two arguing over who does the chores or the toilet seat not being down?”

Christine shakes her head. “Griffin’s pretty neat, so we haven’t had any issues.”

“And my mom taught me the importance of putting the seat down,” I say, smiling.

My dad laughs. “She sure did. She taught me too.”

After dinner, everyone chips in on cleaning up and putting away the leftovers. When our parents leave shortly after, we breathe a sigh of relief and high five each other.

Christine dances around the foyer, singing, “We made it.”

Laughing, I catch her in my arms and kiss her smiling lips. It only takes a few seconds before the moment turns more heated. Sliding my hands down to her hips, I tug her closer as our tongues tangle together with increasing urgency.

When we finally part, I say, “I thought they’d never leave.”

Her eyes, still hazy from our kiss, stare up at me. “Were you trying to out us to them?”

“Huh? I don’t know what you mean,” I say, walking her backward until I pin her against the wall.

“I think you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“I need more details.”

“Your hand on my thigh? Mentioning the Epsom salt bath?” She shakes her head, but a hit of amusement glints in her green irises.

“You can hardly fault me for wanting my hands on you. You’re fucking beautiful. And the Epsom salt thing was just me passing on some valuable information I’ve recently learned.”

“So you say.”

Lowering my face, I trail my lips down the side of her neck. “We should take advantage of being alone.”

She arches her body into mine. “You have a game tomorrow and need to rest.”

“Resting is the last thing I have on my mind,” I say, lifting her from her feet. Her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her toward the stairs.