Daisy jumped out of my arms and I flung myself across my bed, slightly grinning from Jazz’s sarcasm. I knew she was right—Aiden wasn’t my boyfriend anymore. I didn’t have to worry about his feelings or if he approved of me dating Griffin. Heck, I didn’t approve of him dating Fauna, but that didn’t seem to matter.
Jazz sighed. “Look, Aiden’s getting on with his life. Why don’t you get on with yours?”
CHAPTER 30
By the time I got to Griffin’s hospital room he looked so happy to see me, I felt like a jerk for not coming sooner. A really stupid jerk.
His warm smile got my heart all fluttery.
Just for something to do, so that I didn’t just gawk at him like I wanted to, I announced all chipper and excited, “I brought you chicken soup.” I held up the jar like ta-da. “Jazz and I made it for you.” I leaned against the doorframe, feeling awkward. I couldn’t bring myself to fully enter the room. I’m not sure why. “My mom—she always makes me soup when I’m sick. It helps me feel better.”
Griffin raised his eyebrows. “It’s helping me feel better.”
I gave a nervous laugh. “You haven’t even tried it yet.”
“No, but you made me soup,” he said. “And you came to see me. Seeing you, Heaven—that makes me feel better.”
Aww. That got my heart all fluttery again.
“I brought you a cactus, too.” I held up the tiny plant.
Griffin’s lips quirked. “I see that.”
“I’m going to put it here in the window,” I said, finally coming completely into the room. “It has this tiny, little bud that is going to blossom in the morning. Tomorrow when you wake up, it’ll be here—a flower.”
He stared at me, his eyes glistening. “Thanks, Heaven.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, wondering what I did to deserve the way he was looking at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I was going to but—”
“Hey,” he interrupted my lame attempt at an apology. “Come here.” He held out his hand. “Sit with me.”
Slowly, tentatively, I did as he requested, ‘cause really, it was exactly what I wanted.
Finally I was doing it, trying a new flavor. It was kind of scary, but seeing Griffin smile at me all warm and sweet, and remembering his hot, passionate kiss; suddenly, I knew—the risk was worth all the trauma.
So …
I took a deep breath and took his hand.
CHAPTER 31
**This used to be the Epilogue**
(OLD EPILOGUE)
At the next school dance, I snuggled in Griffin’s warm, strong arms hardly able to believe such a cool, sizzling guy truly existed—and he was my boyfriend! He looked so hot in his suit I was melting. Especially from his kiss.
Yes, yes, yes! I was in heaven.
******
Note: We hope you liked the story. Thanks for reading!
UPDATE: There is now more to Ally and Griffin’s story in this book you are reading. The story is called More of His Kiss. Enjoy!
More Of His Kiss:
GRIFFIN
(Back before he and Ally got together)
“Hi, my name’s Griffin and I’m an angry son-of-a-swear-word.” I said it like in an al-anon meeting, ‘cause my dad’s a roaring drunk. So, I’ve been to a lot of those. The state makes me go. They say I have “issues.”
“Oh.” Gail (or Gwen or Grace, something like that) continued in her process to sit down beside me, close. “Why are you angry?”
“I’m not.” I knew my joke wasn’t funny. Well, really it wasn’t even a joke. It was just me running my mouth. Sometimes I just say stuff and have no idea why. But I’m a big guy, so I can get away with it. I can say whatever I want.
“Nah, I’m not really angry. I’m just in anger management.” I raised my eyebrows. “I have issues.”
She smiled, batting her eyelashes. “Oh, like slamming hockey pucks into goalies’ mouths?”
“Hey, that’s allowed. It’s called hockey.”
“You were great last night,” she said all cooey and I’d-like-to-see-your-hockey-stick-like. I’m talking literally—my actual hockey stick. ‘cause last night that’s where I was “great.” On the rink. I tore it up.
She put her hand on my bicep—which I flexed for her. Just a little. It was automatic, but well, face it, she wanted it. Nah, just kidding. I had no idea if she wanted it. It’s just what I do if someone touches my bicep.
She scooted even closer to me, practically sitting in my lap. “Because of you we’re going to state. Yay!”
I grinned. As much as I enjoyed having a juicy groupie—and, you know, talking to someone (anyone)—I was going to get in trouble.
“Actually,” I told her, “I’m in ‘time out.’”
She looked at me like, huh?
“Detention.”
“Oh.”
She didn’t seem to get it.
“So you can’t sit by me. Pretend I have leprosy—I have to sit in my own little colony.”
“Oh,” she said again, this time seeming to actually get what I was saying, since she started to get up and everything. She seemed kind of embarrassed about it though, which for some reason struck me as hilarious—sometimes I’m a hockey stick.
I leaned towards her, totally just for play. “Thinking that I have leprosy will help you keep your hands off me,” I said. Then I grinned, “but you can put them on me later.”
“We’ll see.” She smiled, seeming less embarrassed. She scuttled across the library and sat with the non-leprosy individuals on the other side of the library. The side that wasn’t full of troublemakers and drug dealers and angry hockey players, though why they would voluntarily hang out after hours in the school library was something I didn’t get.
I don’t know why I went into that long spiel with her. I’m just bored. I wouldn’t have minded her sitting by me though. I don’t actually know her, but she’s pretty hot—as long as she doesn’t open her mouth. She says a lot of stuff that annoys me. Of course I’d only had a conversation with her once—at a party. And she’d let me shove my tongue down her throat, so I could live with her I’m a cheerleader and I know I’m cute girly chatter. For a while. Only, I would have gotten in more trouble and I seemed to be in enough of that. My calendar is overflowing with detention.
I can’t believe I have to take an anger management class—again. I’m not angry. It’s hockey…. And okay, I like violence (a little). I like to fight. But, hey, every guy has to have a sport, right? But I’m not angry. Or, I guess maybe I am—right now. But it’s not because a little doofus ticked me off. It’s because I have to take this stupid class—again. Have to “write out my feelings.” Every time I get in a fight, it’s the same thing. But they don’t get it. I’m not mad—it’s hockey!
I glance across the library to that girl, Ally—the one I kissed last year in Mrs. Finkle’s class … she’s so cute. Watching her scribble in her notebook calms me down. Suddenly, I’m smiling. Yeah, okay—the little church girl has that kind of effect on me. I think it’s because I read her notebook once (accidently, I swear) but so I know what she’s writing about: everything. She turns everything into a song.
Now every time I see her writing, it gets me wondering: what now? Did a boy touch her arm, did a puppy lick her face, what? She even wrote about me once. I picked up some books for her … and she turned it into a song. Not just any song. A cute, adorable song that made me start dating Wild Willa Sanders just so I could stop thinking about Church Girl and her song. Get them out of my head—her out of my head. ‘Cause she dates girls—basically. Back when she wrote the song she was all into this tool guy, Baker. But since then she’s gone from bad to worse—so much worse. Now she’s hot for Poser.
A tremor runs through me as Church Girl brushes her long blond hair from her face. It does something to the pit of my stomach. I have this yearning to touch it—her hair. But I don’t go near her. If I do, I’m going to end up scaring her. She writes songs about me—but she
runs from me.
Thinking of all the times she did that—ran—when I tried giving her back her notebook, I give a little laugh. Which makes me look like a psycho. More “issues” the counselors can chalk against me. I peek at Ally. She didn’t hear me—of course. She’s across the room in non-leprosy territory.
I watch her mess with her hair again, get a little thrill, then glare down at the “journal” I’m supposed to write in. The counselors want me to write something non-angry? Fine. Defiantly, I write: “Grange’s hair looks soft. I’d like to touch it.”
There that wasn’t angry, right?
I write it again in big, bold print. Then I write it again. And again.
CHAPTER 32
ALLY
ALLY (In high school right after she and Griffin got together)
Griffin’s text said to meet him in front of room 207, but as soon as I got there, Griffin pulled me into the janitor’s closet next to the classroom. He closed the door and pinned me against it. “You’re late.”
The flicker in his gaze had my heart pounding. Sure, he was my boyfriend now, but the male gleam in his eyes never failed sending excited shudders through me and getting me weak in the knees.
An excited tickle swirled in my stomach knowing he was going to crush me against the door any second and smother me with his heart-stopping kisses. I actually licked my lips in anticipation, feeling a bit woozy.
I gripped the door for support, trying to sound light, though I had been close to tears earlier. “I was working on a paper—a frustrating extra credit assignment.”
His lips twitched, though his voice was husky. “You need extra credit?”
I groaned, tempted to spill I’d almost fought with my English teacher about my latest grade, but it was embarrassing (and twisted and wrong) and I just wanted my kiss. Needed it.
I grimaced. “Believe it or not. And I’m not even done. I just didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.”
“I couldn’t wait any longer,” he murmured, his lips softly tickling my neck as he nuzzle-nuzzle-nuzzled. I was melting into a puddle. He groaned in my ear, “Mmm. You smell so good. Like cinnamon.” He ran his hands through my hair. “I’m going to start sleeping with your shampoo next to my pillow.”
He began doing the most amazing, exquisite things to my neck, then he drew his flushed face away from mine, looking into my eyes. I don’t know why he did that sometimes—stopped to look into my eyes—but his hot stare and ragged breath drove me wild.
He seemed to know I was dying for it—his kiss. His lips twitched a little, pleased and heated as his shoulders rose and fell, and then his hot mouth crashed against mine, tantalizing me with his hungry, swoon-inducing kisses until I was putty in his hands.
Okay, having Griffin for a boyfriend rocked. Admittedly, it had only been a week. But still, what can I say? The Griff rocked my world. Knowing he was mine (mine!!) had me floating on clouds and skipping to classes and perpetually smiling.
So, it was with great reluctance that I finally tried pulling away from him, but he leaned into me closer still, even as I tried pulling away. “Griffin,” I groaned, “I have to go.”
“But it’s study hour,” he murmured in my mouth.
With a groan of resign, he let me go, complaining around a smile, “I didn’t get to study you a full hour.”
“I know! I’m sorry. Next time, ‘k? Definitely. But I really need to get that paper done—and make it spectacular. The teacher grades hard. And unfair. I just found out this morning she gave me a C on that last paper I turned in—and it was a good paper.”
Griffin tilted his head, furrowing his brow. “You got a C?”
He seemed to think it was unbelievable, which it kind of was. I’m a straight A student and I worked hard on that paper. He jutted his chin. “Who gave you the C?”
Pulling on the door, I grimaced, “Ms. Sharp.”
I was kind of embarrassed admitting that, as I knew Griffin probably loved her. All the boys did. I had no idea why…. Well, okay, I guess I knew why. As weird as it was, Ms. Sharp was hot. But well, she was a mean, unfair grader that had given me a C. So to me she had horns and a tail. But guys? They drooled over her.
Griffin leaned against the door, stopping me from leaving. “Ms. Sharp gave you a C?”
He furrowed his brow, seeming disturbed by it, which was touching and made me want to hug him.
“Yeah, can you believe it?”
He shook his head slowly, then took my hand, linking his fingers through mine. He whispered in my ear. “Don’t go.”
“Griffin,” I groaned. “I have to. I have to come up with something amazing—‘cause really, the lady suddenly doesn’t like me. I have to wow her.”
He nuzzled my neck. “You wow me.”
I gave a little laugh, adoring that. It got my heart pitter-pattering. I so wanted to cave and stay in his delicious, warm arms. Only Ms. Sharp suddenly hated my writing—and seemed to hate me.
Griffin held me tighter, his kisses making me breathless, tempting me, tempting me, tempting me. “Griffin, you’re a bad influence.”
“Ms Sharp is a bad teacher,” he mumbled, exploring my mouth with his. “Blow off the assignment.” He whispered in my ear, “Stay with me.”
CHAPTER 33
I did stay a little longer in the closet, because well, Griffin was yummy and the Ms. Sharp assignment was bogus.
Before I slipped out of the door Griffin playfully grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back in.
“Griffin!” I chuckled, half-heartedly struggling to leave, but then I saw Aiden walking down the hall, coming straight towards us. I wanted to jump back into the closet and hide. But I could tell he already saw us, his eyes looked traumatized. Still, I wanted to jump back in there anyway. He looked intent on vocalizing.
Griffin followed my gaze. When he saw Aiden, he released his hold on me. He ran a hand through his mussed hair, then wiped his mouth. “Good luck with that,” he whispered—meaning dealing with Aiden, my ex-boyfriend who had never witnessed Griffin and me together—until this moment.
Watching Aiden now as he steered toward us in the crowded hallway, I felt a pang in my heart. His eyes looked so full of agony my insides shriveled. All week long I’d taken great pains to make sure Aiden didn’t see Griffin and me in the hallways. I’d wanted to give him time to adjust. I was trying to avoid this as long as I could—Aiden seeing Griffin and me together.
Before Griffin made his hasty exit to give me privacy for “The Talk” he saw coming, he whispered in my ear, “Blow off Sharp’s assignment.”
Wow, he really didn’t want me to do that assignment.
Griffin sauntered down the hallway the opposite direction from Aiden, which was sweet, since Griffin’s next class was the other direction. He probably knew Aiden wouldn’t be able to help himself from saying something dumb to him—something that would make Griffin unable to resist pounding his face into the wall.
I took a deep breath as I watched Aiden’s approach. At least he already knew about us—that Griffin and I were a couple. He found out in record speed. The day I went to see Griffin in the hospital—after he missed our dance having emergency surgery—while I was visiting him in the hospital, a bunch of Griffin’s hockey friends came bursting through the door to Griffin’s room. They bore gifts of fast food and crowded around his bed with loud, boisterous stories that involved a lot of swearing and laughing and violence and slapping each other around.
Griffin held my hand tighter. “You’re not going, are you?” he protested as I quickly shot up to make a hasty exit.
“Yeah, I should take off,” I whispered, feeling overwhelmed with all the huge, rowdy boys that had just dominated the small room. Well really, I think I could have dealt with them—maybe even enjoyed them. Except that one of “them” was mean Jake Edwards. The guy gave me the shudders.
“You’re not leaving because of us are you?” Mason, Griffin’s best friend asked. “We can come back later if you want.”
> “No, I really need to go,” I lied, heading quickly for the door.
“She’s shy,” Griffin explained with laughter in his voice.
“Who is she?” I heard someone ask as I opened the door.
I froze at Griffin’s answer. “She’s my girlfriend.”
My heart stopped at those words. I turned around to find Griffin smiling at me, his eyes twinkling. Purrr.
My heart fluttered.
Griffin Piper’s girlfriend! Holy Smokes! I drifted out of the hospital on a cloud. But I didn’t even make it out of the parking lot before I got a text from Aiden. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
When I didn’t answer, he texted again, “Ally, are you serious???”
That night he showed up at my doorstep all teary eyed, but I wouldn’t let him in my house (or my heart—very deep) no matter how hard he begged to “talk things over.”
“Aiden, there’s nothing to talk about. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. That was wrong. I feel bad that you drove all the way out here. I should have answered you—yes, it’s true and yes I’m serious.”
“No, you can’t be,” he pleaded. “Ally, I always thought we’d get back together. Seeing you with him—HIM—it kills me.” He clutched his forehead with both of his hands. “You’re killing me, Ally.”
When I didn’t say anything—just let him rant, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I love you, Ally.”
Pain shot through me.
Aiden’s eyes looked tortured. “I love you,” he said again. “I never stopped.”
I let my breath out slowly, then sighed. “Did you have fun at the dance with Fuana?”
Aiden paled at the question, falling silent for a moment. His shoulders rose and fell, then he clenched his fists. “Griffin’s a thug, Ally. He’s just playing you. He’s doing it to get to me. To mess with me. That’s it.”
The Heartbreaker Next Door (The Hockey Team Book 1) Page 20