Page 100 of The Check Down
A shiver rushes through me, making him smirk.
With his mouth pressed to my ear, he grits out, “I’m going to fuck those jealous thoughts out of your mind. You’re going to come so many times tonight, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Every time you move and feel that twinge, it’ll be a reminder of how much you fuckingownme.”
Holy hell.
There are no more words between us as he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me into the bedroom, where he makes good on every carnal promise.
Chapter twenty-two
Brynn
Ismile at the tiny purple dragon as I fasten the lid on my travel mug. The little guy’s lucky I heard him ding against the metal interior of the cup before I placed it under the spout. He could be floating in a scalding mocha bath instead of regarding me from the countertop.
When Griffin emerges from the bedroom in his workout gear, I hold up the small plastic figure. “Look who I found hiding in my mug.”
He cocks his head and feigns shock. “Another invasion? We need Seth to call an exterminator.”
“Hmm.” I sigh when he kisses me. “Think he would come take that down for us?” I tilt my head toward the Christmas tree that mocks us from the corner of the living room. We both groaned at it yesterday, after returning from celebrating the holiday with our respective families. It was hard to spend our first Christmas apart, but I’d bought my plane ticket months ago, and Griff couldn’t miss practice this week.
We had one perfect night to give and receive—gifts and, ahem,otherpleasures—and now he’s leaving. This away game is the second-to-last of the Blues’ season, and if they win, they’ll secure a spot in the wild card round of the playoffs.
“Mm, he’s still in Nashville with Daniel. But I can have him stop by when he gets back.”
“No, I’ll tackle it this weekend. While I’m missing you.”
He wraps me up and inhales against my neck, his chest inflating, holding my scent in his lungs. When he pulls away, he holds out his hand, palm up.
“Keys, professor.”
I frown down at his hand, then scrutinize his serious expression. “Huh?”
“It’s fucking freezing outside. Give me your keys so I can warm up your car.”
I roll my lips, fighting back tears. “Have you been talking to my mother?”
His brows knit together. “What?”
“Nothing.” Smashing my body to his, I hold tight. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.” He presses sweet kisses to my head.
After a teary goodbye, I slide into my toasty SUV and drive to campus. With one hand on the wheel, I toy with the amethyst and rose quartz bracelet that circles my wrist—a gift from Griffin—and go through my mental to-do list. I plan to take advantage of my alone time to work on my dissertation research, which has taken a back seat the past couple of months. Since the new semester doesn’t start until next week, the library will be empty, so it’s the perfect location for me to distract myself from how much I miss my boyfriend.
I swipe my faculty badge at the door and wind through the stacks to my favorite study carrel. I’ve neglected my emails since before the holidays, so I wade through messages to my campus address before I check my personal account. There, between junk emails from Banana Republic and Soma, is a message that sticks out. From a university domain.
Months ago, confused about my feelings for Griffin and his insistence that we werejust friends, I spent a coupleof hours researching small private colleges in Florida. When I discovered one only an hour from my parents, I didn’t stop at researching it. No, I navigated to their human resources page. There weren’t any positions in the English department listed at that time, but the page had a link to an interest form, and on a whim, I filled it out.
My heart climbs into my throat as I click on the message.
Dear Ms. Nelson,
Thank you for your interest in a teaching position at Collins University. After reviewing your résumé and credentials, we would love to speak with you about scheduling an interview for an upcoming position in our English department.
The subsequent details blur as my eyes swim. The campus is a little over an hour from my hometown. If I’d gotten this email three months ago, I’d be packing my bags for the sunshine state. I wouldn’t miss living in Memphis. Wouldn’t regret walking away from this chapter of my life.
But now?
Griffin.