Page 152 of A Little Secret
As we pull up to the house, Griffin parks the car and rounds the front, opening my door and offering his hand. Once we’re inside, he asks, “Bedroom or couch?”
Covering my yawn, I check the time on my phone, surprised to see it’s almost midnight. “Bedroom.”
“Okay.” He kisses the back of my hand. “I’ll be right back.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Give me five.”
“Five?” I jut out my bottom lip. “Five seconds? Five minutes? Five hours?”
With a low chuckle, he walks toward the door. “Minutes.”
“But it seems like so long,” I whine.
Glancing over his shoulder, he gives me his signature lopsided smile, then walks away.
Like a lost puppy, I mosey to my room and collapse on the bed, staring at the ceiling. And that’s all it takes. A few seconds of being alone to realize exactly how much I need the guy. He’s been sleeping with me every night. Holding me. Making me smile, even if it’s for short periods of time. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to sleep in my bed alone.
Craning my head, I listen, caught by the quiet thump of…something on the other side of the wall.
My mouth lifts. “Griff?”
The rustling stops, followed by a muffled, “Yeah?”
“Still creepy,” I call.
Pause.
“Yeah.”
“I miss you.”
“Miss you, too, baby.”
Baby. Part of me wondered if I’d ever be able to stomach the word again without being bombarded with loss. But when Griff says it? It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and ooey-gooey inside.
Touching my lips, I realize I’m smiling, and it’s all because of him. “You coming back or what?”
“I said five minutes,” he reminds me through the thin sheetrock.
“Fine, but I’m putting on a timer.” I take out my phone and set the clock to three minutes, rounding down for good measure. “Two minutes!” I call once I reach the mark. The seconds tick down, one after another. “One minute!”
The steadythump thumpof feet greets me seconds later, followed by the squeak of my bedroom door opening, revealing a sexy, half-naked Griffin with a poorly wrapped gift in his hands.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a present.” He offers it to me. When he senses my amusement, he adds, “You’ll have to cut me a little slack on the wrap job. Someone was timing me.”
Taking in the crumpled paper and skiwampus tape placement, I cock my head and peek up at him, biting back my grin. “Did you wrap it blindfolded?”
“Nah, that’s your job, remember?” he quips, referring to our New Year’s Eve Game Night.
“Man, that feels like a lifetime ago,” I admit.
“Still can’t believe you gave me the cheek.” He shakes his head in mock disappointment, then sits beside me on the bed.
“Still can’t believe you drove me across the country to tell Drew about our little secret.”