Page 22

twenty-one

. . .

Avery

Back at the hotel, we wind up at the pool.

Blame it on the drinks.

Griffin steps up onto the edge of the pool, grins like the cocky devil he is, and dives straight in—jeans, boxer briefs, and all.

He resurfaces with a loud whoop, slicking his wet hair back as water drips down his ridiculously broad shoulders. “Water’s great, Sinclair. You coming in, or do you just enjoy standing there judging me?”

I cross my arms, shivering slightly under the cool night breeze. “I am judging you, actually.”

“Live a little, Avery!” Kayla calls, already in the water, bobbing under the moonlight like she’s on vacation in a shampoo commercial. “When’s the last time you did something spontaneous?”

“This is spontaneous,” I argue. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re wearing a dress,” Jake adds helpfully, floating on his back. “Doesn’t count.”

I glance at Griffin, who’s treading water lazily, his smirk already half the reason I want to walk away.

“You’re such a buzzkill, Sinclair,” he says, pushing his arms through the water. “Told you that you were a perfectionist. Afraid you’ll melt or something?”

“Oh, for god’s sake.”

Maybe it’s the margaritas. Maybe it’s the way Griffin keeps grinning at me like he knows exactly how to push my buttons. But before I can talk myself out of it, I’m stepping out of my sandals and pulling my dress over my head.

Kayla lets out a cheer. Jake whistles obnoxiously. And Griffin—who absolutely does not need to look the way he’s looking at me right now—grins like he’s already won.

“Happy now?” I snap, standing there in my matching white bra and underwear.

Griffin’s gaze flickers over me just once before he looks away with a smug shrug. “You could say that.”

“I can’t believe the things I do sometimes, when I’m with you,” I mutter as I climb onto the edge of the pool and dive in, resurfacing with a sputter. The water’s cold, but it feels surprisingly good after the heat of the night.

"Oh, come on," Griffin says, swimming toward me, his tone lazy, teasing. The water ripples around him, reflecting the glow of the pool lights. His arms stretch out along the pool’s edge, muscles flexing just enough to remind me exactly how dangerous he is to my self-control. "Not so bad, is it?"

"Don’t start." I try to sound firm, but my voice betrays me, breathier than I mean for it to be.

He smirks, tilting his head like he's considering something. "Yeah?" His gaze flicks around the pool, then back to me, hooded and full of mischief. "You know, I really like those green leaves on that tree. The red roses are pretty too, though. Which do you like?"

My heart slams against my ribs. We’re speaking in code, but it might as well be neon lights flashing between us.

I should look away. I should shut this down.

But instead, I take in the man in front of me—Griffin, cocky and self-assured, water droplets sliding down his chest, his dark hair wet and messy, those damn bedroom eyes locked on mine like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

He was right before. The only reason I haven’t jumped him yet is Cassie .

Maybe it’s the booze. Maybe it’s the humid, spring break air thick with temptation.

But when I look up at him, I bite my lower lip and say, "Usually, I’m a red roses girl. But those green leaves look so pretty tonight."

The space between us vanishes.

Griffin’s hand slides up my back, under the water, fingers tracing the bare skin between my shoulder blades. He’s slow, deliberate, his touch just light enough to make me shiver.

“That so?” His voice drops an octave, his hand sliding lower, teasing the curve of my waist. "Good to know."

I suck in a breath, my entire body suddenly hyperaware of how close he is, how easy it would be to close the gap. His thumb strokes my skin, lazy and possessive, and I swear my brain short-circuits.

His smirk deepens, like he knows exactly how close I am to breaking.

A splash erupts behind us, and I jerk away, my head snapping toward Jake, who is now sputtering and laughing as Griffin grabs him, dunking him like they’re kids at summer camp.

I press a hand to my chest, trying to slow my racing pulse.

What the hell am I doing?

After splashing around for a while—with me doing my best to pretend my legs aren’t still trembling—we retreat to the hot tub nearby. Jake disappears and reappears with a four-pack of local beer, passing them around while Kayla lounges in the bubbling water.

I take a sip, letting the heat from the water and the alcohol seep into me.

Griffin stretches an arm across the back of the hot tub, the tips of his fingers brushing against my bare shoulder.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. His expression is unreadable, but when our gazes meet, something dark and knowing flickers there.

“This is heaven,” Kayla sighs, sipping her drink. “You guys are lucky to have me. I bring all the fun.”

“You know, Kayla, you’re not wrong,” I say. “You’re a real blessing.”

“Speaking of fun…” Kayla’s tone shifts as she props herself up on her elbows, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Who’s ready for full freedom?”

Jake tilts his head. “What’s that mean?”

Kayla grins. “No swimsuits. All glory. Full freedom.”

I sit up straighter. “Kayla, no.”

“Yes!” she crows, already reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. “We’re in Mexico. We’re young. When are we ever going to do this again?”

“Literally never,” I say flatly, but Kayla’s not listening.

She shrugs out of her bra with zero shame, letting it sink beneath the water, followed quickly by her panties. “Free as a bird!”

Jake cheers, raising his beer. “Iconic.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “This isn’t happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening,” Griffin says beside me, his voice low and teasing. “You heard her. Full freedom.”

I turn my head sharply, eyes narrowing. “Don’t even think about it.”

He smirks, shifting closer under the bubbling water. “Come on, Sinclair. You’ve always been such a rule-following good girl. Perfect grades, always doing the right thing, never stepping out of line…” His fingers skim along my bare shoulder, a light, almost absentminded touch, but it sends a ripple of heat down my spine.

I swallow hard. “And?”

His grin deepens. “And I think you like pretending that’s all you are.” His gaze drops to my lips, then lower, before flicking back to my eyes. “But we both know the truth.”

I open my mouth to fire back, but he beats me to it.

“What happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico.” He leans in, his breath warm against my cheek. “Everything.”

My stomach tightens. The way he says it—low, slow, like a promise—makes my pulse stutter.

Kayla splashes us, oblivious to the absolute war happening inside me right now. “Stop whispering and strip, cowards!”

I blink, forcing myself to tear my gaze from Griffin’s. “Not happening.”

“Mmm,” he hums, tilting his head like he’s debating. “We’ll see.”

His hand drags lightly across my waist under the water before he shifts back, too casual, too confident, and takes another sip of his beer.

I glare at him. “Don’t you dare.”

But, of course, Griffin dares.

He stands up—fully stands up—in the bubbling water, and my brain short-circuits.

Because it’s one thing to deal with his usual cocky confidence. It’s another to deal with Griffin in all his glory, silhouetted by the moonlight with his briefs sliding off and disappearing into the depths of the hot tub.

I whip around, my face flaming. “Are you serious right now?”

“Fully serious,” Griffin replies, far too casual about being naked in a hot tub with three other people. “You can open your eyes, Sinclair. It’s just water.”

“It’s not just water!” I splutter, still staring resolutely at the bubbles.

Kayla, meanwhile, is howling with laughter. “Oh my god, Avery. Your face. You’re like a Victorian lady seeing an ankle.”

“Geezus, Knox. Have you done porn?” Jake says. “Because that is a porn-worthy?—”

“Okay, y’all, shush” I hiss. I heave a sigh. Maybe I should just go with the flow. I don’t know why I’m being so resistant.

“Relax,” Griffin says, dropping back into the water so only his shoulders are visible. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen?—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” I cut in sharply.

“—a perfectly average guy enjoying the hot tub,” he finishes, grinning.

Average, my ass. Not that I’m looking, but come on. Of course he’s as super-sized as his ego suggests. The universe clearly has favorites, and it’s infuriating.

Eventually, Kayla and Jake start bickering—again—this time over whose turn it is to fetch more beer.

“I went last time,” Kayla says, swatting at Jake’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but you also drank the last one,” Jake argues, grinning like he’s enjoying the chaos. “Your mess, your errand.”

Kayla lets out a dramatic sigh, pushing herself up and out of the water. “Fine. Come on, Jake. You’re carrying the case back.”

Jake groans. “Teamwork doesn’t exist in your vocabulary, does it?”

They keep arguing as they head toward the hotel, leaving me alone with Griffin. I should feel relief, but instead, my heart does this stupid fluttering thing it has no business doing.

I glance back at him, trying to look casual, but he’s already watching me—head tilted, that damn smirk just teasing the edges of his mouth.

“You’re awful, you know that?” I mutter, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

He grins, leaning back against the edge of the hot tub like he owns the place. “You keep saying that, and yet you’re still here. Looking at the green leaves. ”

“What happens in Mexico…stays in Mexico.”

“Mm-hmm.” He cracks one eye open, his gaze locking on mine. “Admit it. This is the most fun you’ve had in a while.”

I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t. Because, dammit, he’s right.

“Fine,” I mutter. “It’s… okay.”

Griffin laughs, low and warm, and for once, there’s no teasing in it—just genuine amusement. “You’re such a liar, Sinclair.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling.

For a while, we’re quiet. The steam from the hot tub curls into the cool night air, and the bubbles make a soft, rhythmic hum. It’s peaceful in a way I didn’t expect—like the chaos Kayla brought with her has finally dissipated, leaving just… us.

“Kayla really is something, huh?” I say, breaking the silence.

Griffin chuckles, his head lolling to the side to look at me. “She’s a character, that’s for sure.”

“You’re not tempted?” I tease, raising an eyebrow. “She’s clearly into you.”

He laughs again, but there’s something softer in his expression this time. “Nah. Look, Kayla’s great and all, but I don’t really know her that well.”

I tilt my head. “So?”

“So,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder. “If I’m going to mess around, I’d prefer it to be with someone I trust. Someone I know. Someone I’ve known for a long time.”

The words hang between us, suspended like the steam swirling above the water. I swallow hard, pretending like my heart isn’t suddenly pounding in my ears.

“Someone like…” I start, trailing off before I can stop myself.

Griffin’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Someone like you.”

My cheeks flush instantly. “Griffin…”

I bite my lip, trying to steady myself. The way he’s looking at me right now—it’s too much. It’s like he sees straight through me, past every wall I’ve put up.

Before I can come up with a snarky retort, his hand grazes my cheek, and just like that, my brain goes offline.

I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s me. But suddenly, his lips are on mine, and my heart nearly stops.

It’s soft at first—tentative, almost—as if he’s letting me decide how far this goes. But then his hand slips to my waist under the water, and I melt.

Griffin Knox knows exactly what he’s doing.

His mouth moves against mine, slow and teasing, like he’s savoring every second. I tilt my head to kiss him deeper, and his fingers flex on my waist, pulling me just slightly closer.

The water bubbles around us, and for once, I don’t care that we’re in a hot tub or that we’re naked. I don’t care that this is Griffin—annoying, cocky, infuriating Griffin.

All I care about is the way he’s kissing me like I’m the only thing that matters.

I shift slightly in the water, and my hand—completely accidentally—brushes against him.

Oh.

OH.

My eyes snap open, and I pull back just slightly, my cheeks flaming.

“What?” Griffin asks, his voice rough, his lips still inches from mine.

I glance down reflexively—bad idea—and then back up at him, my heart slamming against my ribs. “You’re, um…”

His eyebrow arches, his mouth twitching into that infuriating smirk. “Hard to ignore?”

“Oh my god,” I mutter, covering my face with both hands, my cheeks burning like I’ve just sprinted through the desert.

But Griffin’s having none of it. He laughs softly—this low, rumbling sound that hits me square in the chest—and pries my hands away, lacing his fingers through mine as he pulls them gently back down.

“Relax, Sinclair,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, softer. “How many times must I tell you. It’s biology.”

“Biology doesn’t usually feel like that,” I mutter, refusing to meet his gaze.

He chuckles again, and I hate how much I love the sound of it. “What can I say? You’re distracting.”

Before I can fire back, his lips are on mine again, and this time, there’s nothing tentative about it.

It’s like a switch flips.

His hand moves to my hip under the water, his palm warm and firm against my bare skin, and he pulls me closer—closer than I should ever let him. My body, the traitor, follows, pressing against his chest as my fingers dig into his shoulders for balance.

His mouth moves against mine with this slow, deliberate rhythm that steals every coherent thought from my brain. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. All I know is the feel of him—the slight scratch of his stubble against my skin, the way his hand skims up the curve of my waist, like he’s mapping every inch of me.

I shiver when his thumb brushes just under the band of my bra, teasing against my ribs.

When his other hand comes up, cradling the back of my neck as his thumb strokes my jaw, the last of my resolve snaps like a twig.

I kiss him back harder—fiercer—pouring years of pent-up frustration into the way my mouth moves against his. And he meets me halfway, groaning softly as his fingers flex on my hip, pulling me even closer until there’s no space left between us.

His body is solid and strong under my hands, all muscle and heat, and god help me , I’m completely drowning in him.

Griffin breaks the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath ragged as he stares down at me through hooded eyes. “Avery…”

“Shut up,” I murmur, catching his bottom lip between my teeth before kissing him again.

That earns me a low, almost growl-like sound from him that I feel in every inch of my body. His hand slides lower, grazing the bare curve of my thigh under the water, and a shiver runs through me.

“You cold?” he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick and uneven.

“No,” I whisper back, my chest heaving.

He grins, but it’s different now—softer somehow, like I’ve knocked him just as off-kilter as I feel. “You sure?”

I nod, barely able to focus when his thumb skims up and down the side of my hip, like he can’t stop touching me.

We’re so close now I can feel the steady thump of his heart against mine, can feel his breathing match my own as we sit there, tangled together in the bubbling water. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the hot tub and the faint music drifting over from the hotel.

“This is stupid,” I murmur, not even sure I believe it.

Griffin’s lips quirk. “It’s definitely not smart.”

His hand tightens gently on my waist, and I feel him shift slightly under the water.

And, yeah—he’s still hard.

My cheeks flame again, and I pull back just slightly, staring him down. “I felt that.”

“Can’t help it,” he replies, utterly unapologetic. “Have you seen you?”

I open my mouth to argue, but he kisses me again before I can get the words out. His lips are softer now, slower—like he’s trying to memorize the shape of mine—and it’s honestly unfair.

I can feel the heat of him everywhere, the water bubbling around us, the air between us electric. My hands rest on his chest, but before I realize it, one starts to drift lower, over the hard planes of his stomach, until?—

Oh.

My fingers brush against his hard length beneath the water, and I freeze for a split second, my breath catching in my throat. His reaction is immediate as I wrap my hand around his base—a sharp intake of breath, his body tensing under my touch.

I should stop. I should absolutely stop.

But then Griffin lets out a low, guttural moan As I slide up, his head tipping back slightly, and any rational thought I had disappears.

I wrap my fingers around him, stroking slowly, deliberately, the warmth of the water and the heat of his skin under my hand making me feel drunk with power. His hands grip the edge of the hot tub, his knuckles white as I watch him unravel.

“Fuuuuck, Avery,” he groans, his voice rough, strained. His eyes meet mine, dark and full of need. “I love how you touch me.”

I arch an eyebrow, a sly grin playing on my lips as I play with him.

Griffin leans forward, his lips brushing against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Do I?” I whisper, stroking him a little faster now, my confidence growing with every shuddered breath he takes.

His hips buck slightly into my hand, his control slipping, and it sends a thrill through me. For once, I feel completely in control, like I have the upper hand in this impossible dynamic between us.

But then Griffin pushes my hand off of him and his hands are on my hips, pulling me closer, his grip firm and commanding. He leans in, just enough to press a lingering kiss to my forehead, and I swear—something in my chest aches in a way I don’t know how to name.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise. “And I don’t think you’re ready for what happens next.”

This is dangerous.

But damn it, I’ve never wanted anything more.

But something inside me bubbles to the surface. Maybe it’s Cassie. Maybe it’s my stupid Catholic upbringing. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling that once I let this happen, there’s no going back.

As if on queue to interrupt us, I hear Jake and Kayla before I see them. They make their way back toward the hot tub, laughter spilling between them, and I poke Griffin’s side, my voice quieter now.

“Griffin?”

He turns to me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Yeah?”

I hesitate, my fingers curling against my knee. Then, softly—“As pretty as those green leaves are, I’m actually liking the red roses tonight.”

Griffin stills.

Then, ever so slowly, he exhales through his nose, his lips curving—not into a smirk, not into teasing amusement, but something softer .

“Understood.”

He lifts a hand, brushing my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering for just a second too long. “I’m not trying to rush anything with you, Avery.”

I swallow hard. “I know.” My voice wobbles slightly, but I force myself to meet his gaze.

Before he can respond, I hit the jets before Jake and Kayla crash back into the hot tub, water splashing up around us.

“What’d we miss?” Jake grins, oblivious.

Griffin leans back against the edge, stretching an arm behind me, casual as ever. “Oh, nothing.”

I press my lips together, stealing a glance at him from the corner of my eye.

“Just looking at the stars,” I say, nonchalantly.