by J. P. Grider
Unless she's getting back at me for ignoring hers yesterday.
And this is why I don't do relationships.
But since it's Calista, I try one more time.
Hopefully you are just sleeping and not ignoring me, but I hope we can see each other tomorrow and talk things out. I really want this to work. I click SEND before I can delete that last line.
Not once have I ever wanted a relationship to work, but I felt I needed to say that to Calista. She needs to know how serious I am about her. When I'm with her, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. My adrenaline surges. My heart pounds. My stomach turns to mush, as does my heart. When I'm not with her, all I can do is think about her. Being with her. And not even in the sexual way... though, yeah, I really want her in the sexual way. But just holding her. Just thinking about holding her. She's all I want.
Yet I'm keeping a huge secret from the one thing I have ever really wanted. The one person who sets my soul aflame.
Sometime last night I had to have fallen asleep.
Because the sun is shining outside my bedroom window.
The first thing I do is pat the bed for my phone.
One text. California.
I really want this to work too. How 'bout you pick me up at ten? Or when you wake up?
Oh, thank God.
I take a quick shower, slip on my boxers, jeans, blue t-shirt, and black Docs and grab my black Blink 182 hoodie. By ten a.m. I'm standing at Cali's front door, texting her that I'm here.
"Hey," she says quietly as she steps outside and turns to close the door. "Thanks for not ringing the doorbell. Dad was having a bad morning, and he just fell back to sleep."
Without saying a word, I take her in my arms and hug her until all the pieces I broke yesterday are mended back together. I grip her so forcibly, my hold forming an epoxy so strong, that our bond cannot be broken again - even by the horrible secret I can't yet share with her.
"Oh, Calista," I whisper above her head, afraid to break our embrace, "I... I'm... I am so sorry." My voice, strained from my imminent tears, stammering. "Forgive me. Please?"
Her curls tickle my neck when she nods. "There's nothing to forgive." She pulls away just enough to look up at me. "I'm the one that's sorry. I get so defensive sometimes." Glittering tears escape the inside corners of her smoky eyes. With my thumbs, I wipe them away. "I have to work on that," she whimpers. "I promise I will."
I move one of my thumbs from her tears to her lips, grazing it back and forth with the lightest touch. "You don't have to work on anything, Calista. You're perfect the way you are."
I know it's only been just over two weeks, but I tell her anyway. "I love you," I breathe, hopefully loud enough for her to hear the words. I've never uttered those words to anyone. And as much as it scares me, it exhilarates me. Intoxicates me. Like nothing I have ever done. To commit to my emotions like that - without doubt or reluctance. It's liberating. "I love you," I say more firmly. More sure. Like I want to shout it to the world. "I love you, I love you, I love you." And like an addiction, I can't help but say the words again and again. To feel the emotion again and again. "Calista Parker, I love you...more than I have ever loved anything... anyone... ever."
With a gratified smile and a reciprocal hug, Cali responds with, "Oh, Griffin. I love you too."
As if I couldn't hug her any harder, I pick her up by the waist, spin her around, and squeeze her even tighter than before, jamming her up against the brick building and kissing her like I would die if I didn't.
44
Cali
My feet dangle above the ground, and I'm rammed up against my house. Griffin's lips are on mine. One of his hands cups the back of my neck. The other grabs the back of my thigh while he uses his knee to push up my other leg. He then hoists me up so that I comfortably wrap my legs around his waist. Now the hand that was at the back of my thigh vigorously slides over my ass, under my shirt, and up my back, where he begins circling his fingers just above my bra strap.
He sets tiny kisses to my lips, my chin, the corners of my mouth, before he dips his tongue inside and encircles mine. I can still taste his toothpaste. His chest, crushed against me, pounds fiercely, and I'm not sure where his heartbeat starts and where mine ends. But it doesn't matter. Because within moments, they are beating together. Rhythmically. In sync. Harmonizing while our tongues envelop each other's. And though this is just a kiss, it's not only a kiss. It's a declaration. Our declaration. Announcing the love that we so deeply feel for one another.
The hand behind my neck now graces my cheek, and while his tongue slides out, he continues the kiss with soft brushes to my lips. With both my hands, I grab the hair at the nape of his neck and tug. Desire burns in my stomach, sparking interest down below, and my heart is about to explode from beating way too fast. As the intensity of my breathing increases, Griffin plunges his tongue back inside my mouth, and clutches my ass to draw me closer to him. Much closer. But not close enough.
In a ravenous attempt to get as close to him as I can, I grip his face in my hands and pull him tighter. His tongue now reaches so deep inside that I can feel its effect down deep in my belly. The blood in my veins must be on fire, because everything inside me is burning.
Abruptly, and panting heavily, Griffin removes his lips from mine and catches his breath while closing his eyes. When he opens them, his clear light-blue eyes are dark and yearning. "Wanna go to the garage?" he rasps, breathing heavily between each word.
I nod, confused as to why he would offer to bring me to his garage instead of his bed, but I submit, my desire to be with Griffin in any capacity outweighs my desire to sleep with him.
Griffin sets me back on my feet. But since there is no way I am standing on my own after that wonderfully earth-shattering kiss, I lean into him before reacquainting myself with gravity. Resting my head in the crook of his neck, I feel his lips in my hair before he rests his chin on my head.
"I just thought you might want to see where I spend a lot of my time," Griffin says, his back to me as he unlocks the door to the side of a huge brown garage door.
"Sure." Even though in my head I'm still in the midst of that kiss on my front porch, I really do want to be a part of Griffin's other interests. If visiting an auto-mechanic garage on a Sunday makes him happy, then that's where I want to be.
He locks the door behind us and plucks an invisible thread from just below my shoulder. "You wanna see my car?" he asks, his voice seductive and intense.
He takes my hand before I answer. "You started sanding?" I ask, daftly stating the obvious.
"Yup. Yesterday," he mutters, taking me toward the front of his car.
Without warning, Griffin lifts me by the waist and gently sets me on the hood of his car, to the side of these big scoops that adorn it. "Now I'm only doing this because I still have time to bang out any dents we might make."
He steps onto the front bumper of the car and climbs up between my legs.
With his body, he pushes me so that my back is now against the windshield and my mini-skirt is hiked up above my hips. Griffin's eyes are fixed where my skirt is bunched up when his right hand falls at the top of my panties and he tears them off.
"Whoa," I say, reacting, not thinking, and gripping the edge of the top of the hood.
He chuckles. "Too rough for you?" His voice is raspy, his eyes are hooded.
"No," I laugh. "But you owe me a pair of panties," I joke.
"Panties are overrated," he says, just before unzipping his jeans and pushing them down around his knees.
I moan out loud, because that line is the sexiest thing I've ever heard.
He fumbles momentarily in his pocket, pulls out a packet, and rips it open. In a second, he's protected and I'm moaning louder.
His mouth slams on top of mine, while, in one quick thrust, he slams inside of me. Filling me. Completing me.
He breaks our kiss as his pace quickens, and soon his face is buried within the crook of my neck. My cheek is pressed against his ear, and when I
inhale, I smell fabric softener mixed with sweat. It's intoxicating. It's perfection.
When I remove my hands from the edge of the hood to place them on Griffin's shoulders, my butt slides down the hood, causing Griffin to lose his momentum. Without breaking our connection, he cups his hands beneath my ass, slides me down the hood, and carefully steps down from the car. With my legs wrapped high on his back, Griffin drives into me over and over until he releases inside of me.
His grunt is low and deep. His body satiated. He trails soft pecks from my neck to my mouth, then lays me back on the hood. He pulls up his jeans and lies back down on the other side of the big scoops on the hood. His hand reaches over to take mine and he laces his fingers with mine.
"Sorry it was so quick, California, but man, you had me going back there on your porch."
I look over at him, his head is facing up, but his eyes are closed. "No apology needed," I breathe. "Quickies are underrated.”
After we catch our breaths and come back down to Earth, Griffin takes me to the bagel place for breakfast, and he apologizes over and over for laughing at me last night. Plus, he explains that he wasn't actually laughing, but thought I was cute. Yeah. I didn't think it was so cute, but I do accept his apology, and we do have a nice morning.
"Do you have any plans today?" I ask when we walk out to the car.
"I do. I have to see my dad today, but how 'bout I come by tonight? Afterward? Would that be okay?" he asks, shutting the passenger side door and circling behind the car to get in.
"Yeah. I mean... if my dad is sleeping, I can sneak you in. Is that all right?"
"Of course it is," he says, smiling.
Since Griffin has a brand-new stereo installed in his BMW, he fumbles through his iPod and plays Love Walks In by Van Halen... the Hagar days.
"Nice. Great song," I comment.
"I think so." He turns to me with a grin and says, "Don't think I played this by accident, California."
I feel my face flush and my heart flutter.
He pats my hand, then pulls away.
"You know," I say, trying to get rid of my butterflies, "a lot of people didn't like Van Halen after Sammy joined, but, now don't judge me, but I preferred Van Hagar."
Griffin glances my way and says, "Now don't tell anyone, but I did too."
My face grows warm again, and suddenly everything feels right.
45
Griffin
"Griffin, what the hell you doing here?" my father firmly yet quietly barks.
"You know what I'm doing here. You tell him yet?"
My father jerks me by the arm, away from his clientele. "Griffin. I told you Friday night. I am not telling him. And if you do, there goes your trust fund and any financial support you expect from me. Everything."
"You know what? I'm done expecting anything from you. I don't give a shit. Cut me off." Turning on my heel, I storm out the front door of Donavon's II and head towards my car.
"Griffin," My father shouts, chasing me down the walk. "Do not do this. You'll ruin two families if you do. Ellie doesn't want this anymore than I do."
Faltering in my step, I continue to my car, unwilling to let my father see him get to me.
"That's right, Griff. I talked to her. Her husband is sick," my father is still chasing after me, which is so uncharacteristic of the man. "You want his last days to be about learning his wife has been lying to him all this time?"
When I reach my car, I open the door, glare at my father, and tell him to go to Hell. I shut the door and peel out. Heading straight for the restaurant.
"Griffin."
"Yeah, Nate. Got a minute?" I ask of my brother, who's standing at the host station inside the Glen Rock restaurant.
"Not really, Griff. Kinda busy here," my brother bitches.
"Fine. Is Ellie here?" I cross my arms, determined to speak with one or both of them.
"She's in the back. But she's..."
I'm through the kitchen door before he finishes his sentence.
Ellie is laying out dishes on one of the stainless steel prep counters when she catches me in her peripheral vision.
"Nathan's brother," she points out; rhetorically, of course.
"Yup." I flip my keys around in my hand, an intimidating effort on my part.
But it must be working, because she bites her upper lip in worry. It's written all over her face.
"Did you know the other night when you were here?" she whispers, walking up closer to me so no one can hear her.
"I did not. But I do now. And I am going to tell Calista. I can't start this relationship off with a lie."
"Griffin, is it? From what your father told me about you - and it hasn't been much, you've never been the topic of conversation until yesterday - you're a player. You'll be done with Calista in what, two weeks tops, if she's lucky. Why ruin everybody's lives for a fling?" She's looking me dead in the eyes, trying hard to remain indifferent, but her eyes are pleading. Begging. She has everything to lose if I tell Cali. Do I want to do that to her right before her husband dies? Do I want to do that to Cali?
I swipe my hair with one hand and cup my keys in the other. "What am I supposed to do?" I practically yell.
Like my father did before, only more gently, Ellie takes me by the sleeve and tugs me toward an alcove off to the left of the kitchen. "Wait. Just...let me tell her. In my own time. Please," she begs.
I roll my eyes and lift my head toward the ceiling. "Jesus Christ. If she knows I know, she'll break it off with me right away, Ellie. She despises liars. You know that, right?"
Ellie closes her eyes. "Of course I know it." Her eyes creep open, and they are engulfed in tears. "That's what makes this even harder."
She pulls a stool over to our alcove and sits. Rubbing her fingers over her eyes, she looks so young crying in the corner. She actually reminds me of Cali. Her nose is small, her lips plump but not too full, and though her hair isn't as long as Cali's, it's as curly. It's when her fingers move from her eyes that I see her age. The hard lines that frame her eyes and her mouth represent that of a woman who has worked way too hard in her lifetime. I can't help but think that Cali could one day end up as ragged and tired as her mother.
Little pieces of my heart crumble away.
I can't let Calista continue her life in near poverty. Her mother's lies are her mother's lies. They have nothing to do with me. But my relationship with Calista has everything to do with me. And I will not let my father and her mother's lies break us apart. No matter what that does to Calista's relationship with her mother.
No matter what that does to Calista's relationship with her mother?
46
Griffin
"Hi, sweetheart."
"Hey, Griffin."
I stand there. In her doorway. My chest carrying the burden of this secret.
"Can I come in?"
Everything is in slow motion.
"Of course." She pulls me in and closes the door behind us. "Dad's sleeping, so it's okay."
As if invisible weights are tied to my ankles, my feet drag beneath me. Entering her bedroom with the intent to lie makes me ill. The guilt... poisoning - like acid dripping slowly down from my esophagus, my stomach is on fire. I begin to sweat.
"Griffin?"
I barely hear her voice.
"Griffin? Are you okay?"
She sounds so far away.
I find the edge of her bed and sit. And look up into her beautiful, unsuspecting face. Very slowly lifting my hand, I touch her fingertips, and she takes hold of my hand.
"What is it, Griffin?"
"Just lie down with me?" I bend to untie my boots with my other hand and kick them off.
Her eyes are questioning, but she smiles and sits on the bed next to me, grabbing the afghan folded at the bottom of the bed.
Pulling the blanket over us, she turns to her side, and we spoon. While I circle my fingers lightly around her navel, I silently cry. Hoping she doesn't feel my tears on her back. Praying I get a
sign about what I should do.
I cry.
I hope.
I pray.
And sometime after that, I fall asleep.
The next thing I know, I'm awakened by the nudge of Cali's elbow to my gut.
"Huh? What? What is it?"
"My mom is home."
I bolt up straight. "Oh. Um. Yeah. Okay. Am I not..."
"It's okay, Griffin. I just... I don't know. I didn't want her to see us sleeping. I mean, she knows I must, you know what? Never mind. It's fine."
"No, I'll..."
"Honey? You up?" Her mother whispers as she opens the bedroom door.
"Uh. Uh, yeah..."
Her mother turns on the light.
"Oh." Ellie is surprised to see me sitting on the bed next to her daughter.
"Um, Mom, this is Griffin," Cali says, patting my thigh. "You met him the other night. On the porch. It was dark, so, I don't know if you..."
"Yes. Griffin. Hi. Nice to see you again."
"Yes. Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker." My heart is running, like, ten miles an hour.
"I just... wanted to check if you were up. I'll let you be." And as quick as Ellie comes in, she goes out. Shutting off the light as she leaves.
"That's odd," Cali remarks.
"Odd? How so?" I ask, still groggy from practically passing out before.
"She never comes in and checks on me. I mean, not that I know of."
Still sitting, I pull Cali between my legs and against my chest. "I should go. She's probably mad I'm here."
"No. Please stay. She's not mad."
I stick my nose in Cali's hair and inhale her vanilla scent. How am I supposed to walk away from Heaven? "If you're sure," I whisper.
"I'm sure."
I reach around to hold her face, grateful that it's dark. I don't have to look her in the eye and blatantly lie to her by omission. Promising Ellie that I'd keep quiet until she has a chance to tell Cali herself was a decision that I am still not sure I should have made.