Page 20 of A Little Secret
“Sorry.” Tucking his hands into his front pockets, helifts his shoulders and looks boyishly adorable. “I only pause shows for friends.”
Friends.
I’m seriously starting to hate that word.
My gaze narrows. “Were you always an ass or…?”
His mouth lifts. “You gonna miss your favorite part, or are you gonna let me help you?”
“I already asked for your help, and you said you only pause shows for?—”
I squeal as he hooks his arm beneath my knees, then wraps his opposite one around my back, cradling me to his chest. He smells good. He looks good, too.
Grudgingly, I loop my hands around his neck and stare at the tiny dimple etched into his cheek. This is awkward. So awkward. “So.”
Don’t look him in the eye. Don’t look him in the eye.
“So?” he mimics.
“How are you and…Brittany?”
It’s a stupid question. I know they aren’t exclusive. I know he hasn’t really been exclusive with anyone in…ever.
Huh. Interesting. I’ll have to unpack that little tidbit later.
Regardless, Brittany was his date for homecoming. That’s it. His date to a dance. Yet, I threw her name out like a jealous lover or something.
Where the hell did that come from?
“She’s fine,” Griff answers. “Dating some guy from her gym. How are you and Drew?” A flash of the stupid pregnancy test hidden in my room flickers through my mind as a rumble of amusement seeps from his chest. “What am I thinking? It’s not like it matters, right? You’ll still do anything he tells you to because you’re too stubborn to admit he’s a dick.”
“Speaking of dicks,” I counter, giving him a pointed look.
Aaaand, so much for not looking him in the eye.
My breath stalls as I stare at him. He really is handsome. A true dashing, debonair man, even when he’s being a bit of a butthead. I should be nicer, but I can’t help it. If I let my walls down, we’ll slip right back into friendship territory, and considering my current circumstances, it isn’t really an option right now. Not anymore.
Despite the harshness of his words, Griffin sets me on the couch carefully, making sure not to jostle my sore ankle as he wraps his long fingers around it and lifts my leg into the air. After setting a pillow on the coffee table, he places my injured foot gently on top of it. My chest pangs at the sweet gesture, but I ignore it. Instead, I ask, “Why’d you stay home from the vacation?”
“Why do you think?” Standing to his full height, he rolls his broad shoulders, glances at the television, and shakes his head. “Still can’t understand why you watch this stuff.” Then, he saunters out of the room.
Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rings, and he returns to answer it, though I’m too engrossed in the show to care who’s on the other side, or at least that’s what I tell myself. Truth is, if it was anyone else’s familiar gait, I’d probably strike up a conversation and ask why they haven’t joined me on the couch, but I know better than to invite Griff if I don’t want to deal with the can of worms I know will follow.
Nope. No, thank you.
Why are you so easy to miss, Griff?
I grab the remote and turn the volume up when the scents of butter and salt waft from the front door. Within seconds, a tub of movie theater popcorn is placed in mylap. I look over my shoulder in time to see Griffin pop a kernel into his mouth as he disappears back to his room.
Gone. Like a mirage.
A pang of regret and longing hit me as I watch him walk away. He bought me popcorn. Really yummy movie theater popcorn. Not even what I was craving. Nope. The guy went above and beyond, even when he’s mad at me. I shouldn’t be surprised, and in a way, I guess I’m not. Griffin’s nothing if not thoughtful. He’s a doer. A fixer. A quiet worker with a heart of gold and zero desire for recognition. It’s why he’s captain. Why his teammates rely on him. Why his friends rely on him. Why his family relies on him. A good ol’ boy next door who will do anything to help, even sacrificing his ego to order a late-night snack for a girl who insists she wants nothing to do with him.
I wonder if it kills Griff. To see me go along with Drew’s ridiculous ultimatum, knowing there isn’t anything he can do to change my mind. I wonder if he wants to fix this, too. Our relationship. The one I screwed up.
Before Drew’s ultimatum, I would’ve invited him to stay. Hell, I would’ve begged him to. Now? Well, I guess a small part of me knows I deserve the silence. The cold shoulder. The disappointment.
If only he knew.