by Marie Meyer
“I’m not in culinary school, Griff.”
“Damn,” he groaned. “And here I thought you’d be so happy to see me, I’d get a five-course feast out of the deal.”
“How does pizza sound?”
Griffin’s deep, rumbling laughter filled my ears. “Now that’s a Thanksgiving feast I can’t resist. But,” he said, “none of that shitty, fancy pizza. Normal pizza, just meat and cheese.”
“And pineapple,” I added.
“Ugh,” he moaned in disgust. “Being a sophisticated college woman hasn’t refined your palate any.”
“Nope.” I giggled, shrugging. The line remained quiet. “Griff? You still there?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s just good to hear you laugh. You feel better now?” he asked softly.
I put the phone back between my ear and shoulder and pulled the makeshift bandage off of my finger, brave enough to take another look. Seeing the cut now, with a clear head, I knew I’d overreacted. “Yeah, thanks to you.” I took the phone from my shoulder again and stared up at the night sky. An inexplicable heaviness pushed me down, like gravity had suddenly multiplied. “You always have a way of making everything okay.”
“I promised you a long time ago that I’d always try to make you feel better,” he said. “I’m just glad I still can.”
The pinch in my heart reminded me that it was still there. “Forever,” I said, but I doubted he heard me. The enormous amount of gravity that suddenly surrounded me had buried my voice. I cleared my throat. “I should probably get back to class.”
“Don’t forget to call Dr. Hoffman.” Griffin spoke up. He cleared his throat, too. “I’ll be there in a couple of days. Take care of yourself, do you hear me?”
“I will, I promise.” My voice wavered. “’Night, Griff.” I didn’t want to hang up.
“’Night, Bean,” he replied quietly. Then all I could hear was the soft whistle of the wind. Our brief connection had ended.
When I got back to the studio, everyone was in full clean-up mode. If I wasn’t behind before, I was now. Defeated, I walked back to my station and haphazardly started tossing things into my bags.
Chandra ran up to me; a worried expression darkened her usually cheerful face. “Jillian, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I just needed some air.” I couldn’t explain what had happened, but it was nice of her to ask if I was all right.
“I could help you clean up,” she offered.
I started unpinning the muslin from my dress form. “Thanks, but I don’t want to keep you.”
Chandra’s bright smile stood out against her milk chocolate skin. She had the kind of smile that exuded warmth and sincerity. “You sure? It’s no problem.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “It won’t take me very long.” I folded the fabric and put it into my bag.
Chandra’s honey-colored eyes glowed with kindness. I’d never really noticed her striking features before and I was taken aback. Despite having declined her offer, there was a small part of me that actually felt bad about it—like my refusal would somehow disappoint her.
Chandra picked up her bags, tossing them over her shoulder. “If you’re sure then.” She hesitated.
I nodded.
“I’ll see you later.” She gave me a sweet smile and walked out of the room.
* * *
On my way back to the dorm I found Dr. Hoffman’s number in my contacts. Even though it was after hours, I decided to call her anyway. And fulfill my promise to Griffin. At the very least, I could leave a message and she would call me back.
As soon as the automated voice prompted me, I left a short message for Dr. Hoffman and quickly hung up, running back to Victor.
After jogging down the hallway toward my room, I unlocked the door and threw it open. Sarah was sprawled across her bed with several books open around her. “Well, hey there, stranger,” she said, looking up.
“Hey,” I said. “Are you busy?” It was obvious she was, but I had no desire to stay in. I had too much pent up excitement, anticipating Griffin’s visit, and I didn’t want to think about what had happened in class. I needed a distraction. “Dinner?” I suggested. “Not dining hall crap.”
“Um…” She bit her lip, looking at the unfinished work that sat in front of her. “Oh, what the hell.” She slammed a book shut and brushed the rest to the side, jumping up from her bed, ready to put her work on hold for me.
* * *
Inside the restaurant, the ambiance was impeccable. The beautiful green stained-glass windows by the bar cast an emerald hue over the dining room. The interior design was remarkable.
The hostess greeted us with a smile and said, “If you would please follow Mandy, she will show you ladies to your table.”
The hostess handed Mandy two menus. She turned around and smiled at us. “Right this way, ladies.”
We followed her to a table at the back of the restaurant. “Will this be okay?” she asked, smiling.
“Yes, thank you.” Sarah and I answered in unison.
“Your server will be with you shortly.” Mandy laid the menus on the table and returned to her post at the hostess’s desk.
We sat down and picked up our menus. “So, what’s good here?” I asked.
Sarah perused her menu and said, “Everything is divine.”
All throughout dinner, Sarah and I talked about what classes we enjoyed the most and which ones sucked. Then our conversation turned toward our lives outside of school.
“I know you’re not close to your sister, but what about your nephews?” she asked.
“Yeah, the twins are okay. What I love most about my nephews is that they’re rowdy, messy boys, and my prissy-ass sister has to clean up after them,” I chuckled. “That’s karma at its best.”
“What are the boys’ names?”
“Michael and Mitchell,” I said, taking a drink of water. Talking about home was about as enjoyable as a root canal, but I was determined to let Sarah in. In Griffin’s absence, I needed someone I could trust with all the baggage I carried. “You’re an only child, right?” I asked her. I thought she’d told me that over the summer.
“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded, swallowing a bite of scallops. “But I feel like I have two older brothers. Brandon’s brothers have always treated me like their little sister.”
“Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?” I asked.
“One of my aforementioned big brothers lives in Cranston. I’m spending Thanksgiving break with Brandon at his brother’s place. What are your plans?”
I was a little apprehensive to tell her Griffin was visiting. I knew she’d turn it around and try to make it out to be more than it was, but I was so excited to see him, I needed to tell someone the good news. “Griffin’s coming.” I bit my bottom lip, anticipating her tongue-in-cheek comments.
“Aw, yeah,” she sang, nodding her head in approval. “Damn, I’m just sorry I’m not gonna get to meet him.” She stuck out her bottom lip, pouting.
“Shut it, Sarah. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. It’s not like that between us.”
She sat her elbows on the table and folded her hands in front of her face. “Bullshit.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked. “What makes you think there’s more to our friendship? You’ve never even met him.” I wasn’t mad at her and was careful not to raise my voice. I genuinely wanted to know why she’d jumped to the conclusion that Griffin and I were more than just friends.
Sarah took a sip of her water and thought for a second. “At the mention of his name, there is a fleeting moment where all the hurt and sadness inside of you disappears. It’s like you’re not afraid to let him carry some of your past for you, if only for a little while, so you can breathe. There’s a radiance that flashes across your eyes and the hint of secret on your lips. If just the sound of his name has that kind of power, I can only imagine what it’s like when you two are actually in the same room together. If
that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked at her, stunned.
“I’m right and you know it. Why do you fight it so hard?” She stared at me with her smooth amethyst eyes, waiting for an answer that I didn’t have.
The only thing I did know was that nothing got past Sarah Theissen.
Chapter Eleven
I just had to stop for gas. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Well, hurry up!” I shouted.
“I am.” He laughed at my impatience.
I hung up the phone and tried to find something constructive to do for thirty minutes, but that proved to be an exercise in futility. Too much excited energy coursed through my veins to read a book. I’d already straightened up a hundred times, and Sarah had left to spend the weekend at Brandon’s apartment.
I checked my phone again—only fifteen more minutes. Determined to wear a hole in Sarah’s bright pink area rug, I paced back and forth like a neurotic house pet. If Griffin didn’t get here soon, I would owe Sarah a new rug.
My phone buzzed and Griffin’s picture lit up the screen. “Griff?”
“Are you going to let me in or what?” he said.
“Ahh! You’re early!” I screamed. “I’m on my way down!” I practically rode the banister down the stairs, leaning into it as I skipped four or five steps at a time to get to the door. I stepped off the last step and ran full speed toward the glass doors¸ slamming into the crash bar. Griffin stood on the other side waving to me. A huge smile spread across his face. I pushed the door open and didn’t even let him in the building before I was in his arms.
He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his leather riding jacket. I breathed him in. He smelled like leather and wind…like home.
“Jillibean,” he said in a low and hushed tone at my ear. “You going to let me through the door? It’s freezing out here.”
“Oh, sorry.” I smiled sheepishly, looking up at his reflective, dark eyes. Holy hell, I’d forgotten how tall he was. I stepped aside and he came in, hauling his duffle bag with him.
The second he was through the door, he pulled me to his side. Despite our crazy height difference, I marveled at how well we fit together. God, I’ve missed this.
He glanced down at me, his mouth pulling into an impish grin. “Have you always been this short?” he asked. “I don’t remember you being this short.” I laughed and he responded by pulling me even closer to his side.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” I whispered.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” he replied quietly.
Once we made it to the top floor, I pushed open the door to my room. Griffin let go of my shoulder, walked over to my bed, dropped his bag on the floor, and fell onto my lime green comforter. His muscular 6’4” frame swallowed my small twin bed.
“You’re tired,” I said, feeling completely ill at ease. During our two-month separation he’d morphed into a tried and true rock star: perfectly mussed hair, come-hither eyes, bedroom voice, and loads of charisma. I was the same old boring me. Things felt weird. I didn’t know how I was supposed to act around him anymore.
He kicked his boots off and stretched his arms out to me. “Come here.” His voice was low and exhausted.
I walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. I looked at him and smiled, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. Griffin stilled one of my hands by pulling it onto his chest. His thumb and forefinger moved slowly over the Band-Aid on my index finger. My heartbeat was jumpy and arrhythmic. What the hell was my problem?
Griffin slid his butt over toward the wall and tugged on my hand, pulling me down beside him. “Now I can rest,” he said, folding me perfectly to his side. He closed his eyes and smiled contentedly. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, growing steadier as he drifted off to sleep.
I closed my eyes, finally relaxing next to him. Before my heavy eyes closed, I whispered, “Me too.” And for the first time in months, I slept peacefully.
* * *
Thanksgiving Day arrived with a fresh blanket of snow. Griffin and I woke up early, not wanting to waste the limited amount of time we had together. Thankfully, the awkwardness I’d felt the night before had disappeared and things felt normal between Griffin and me. Just like old times, we decided to be the first ones to leave tracks in the newly fallen snow. We bundled up and went for a walk, hoping to find an open coffee shop somewhere.
Griffin and I walked side by side, our hands shoved deep in our pockets to keep warm.
“How have things been?” His voice was serious, and I knew exactly what he was asking about.
“Good,” I answered. “Now that you’re here.” I looked up at him with a playful smile on my lips.
“No, seriously. You scared the fuck out of me the other day. I was about to get on my bike and drive out here right then and there.”
I sighed, feeling guilty for causing him to worry. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“No,” he replied urgently. “Don’t apologize.” He stopped walking and put his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him. “Jillian, you call me every time. Do you hear me?”
My eyes started to water. I wasn’t sure if it was a result of the cold wind whipping around or impending tears. I nodded my head in answer to his question because I knew my voice would betray me.
Griffin pulled me to his chest and hugged me protectively. “I almost lost you once,” he said. His warm breath fell over the top of my head and I shivered even though I wasn’t cold. “I’ll be damned if I let that happen again,” he said.
Still sealed inside the warmth of his embrace, I found the courage to tell him what I’d thought. “For a split second, I thought about cutting all my stress away. But…” I trailed off.
He pulled me away, placing his hands on my shoulders, and looked me straight in the eye. “But?” he asked.
“But.” I bit my lip, contemplating my motivation behind not acting on that temptation. “But, I didn’t want to go back down that road. I told myself that was the old me…not who I am now.” And I believed that. I looked him dead in the eyes because I wanted him to believe it, too.
Griffin’s lips pulled up at the corners, and the warmth of his smile spread to his dark chocolate eyes. He brushed the back of his hand lightly across my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. I tilted my head, leaning into his hand. I craved the feel of his skin on mine, even though I knew he didn’t feel the same way. “You amaze me every freaking day, you know that?” Running his hands down my arms, he captured my hands between his and squeezed. His dark eyes smoldered, and my breath hitched. “You are the strongest woman I know,” he said softly.
I blinked away the weird tension and quickly tried to think of something to change the subject. I’d never done well with compliments and now was no exception, especially with him staring at me like that. “Come on, it’s freezing out here.” I laced my fingers through his, pulling him along beside me. He smiled like an idiot and squeezed my hand tighter, yanking me to his side.
After walking in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company, we finally came across an open Starbucks. Griffin let go of my hand and held the door open. He ushered me in, placing his hand at the small of my back as the warm scents of coffee beans and pastries greeted us. I stomped the snow from my boots and rubbed my hands together. We walked to the counter, and I ordered my usual venti mocha with soy and a slice of pumpkin loaf, while Griffin ordered his usual boring black coffee (minus the lid), and a blueberry muffin.
Sitting down at a small table, we shrugged off our coats and warmed our hands on our coffee cups. I couldn’t help but smile at him as he sipped his coffee.
“What?” he asked, squinting at me.
“Nothing. Just happy.”
“Me too.” He smiled, set his coffee down, and started peeling the paper from around his muffin.
“Tell me everything that’s been going on with you.” I said, pick
ing at my pumpkin bread, too anxious to eat.
He popped a bite of muffin into his mouth and chewed before he answered. “On a whole, the band is doing great. But, I’m really glad it worked out that I could visit this weekend. I needed a fucking break.” He exhaled and took a drink. “If I have to listen to Adam and Thor bitch about dropped notes and song lyrics one more time, I’m going to kill them both. I love those guys, but they bicker like two old biddies.”
“Yikes.” I cringed. “That sucks. But, whatever you guys are doing is paying off, right?” I smiled. “You’re recording a freaking album. You’re a real rock star now,” I said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. I was so proud of him. “How cool is that?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s cool. But it’s a shit load of work, not that I’m complaining.” He held his hands up in a defensive gesture before tipping his chair back, seizing a stack of napkins from the counter behind him. Napkins in hand, he let the chair fall forward with a thud. “My parents are on my ass because I’m not taking enough classes, the guys don’t seem to take shit as seriously as I do, and Erin bitches about me never having any free time.”
Even though it probably made me a terrible person, I couldn’t help the thrill that went through me when I heard that he hadn’t had much time for Erin. “Well, I’m sure that when your album goes platinum, and you’re booking tours, and headlining sell-out shows, people will figure out that this isn’t just a hobby.”
“Yeah, then I’ll have the other problem.” He stretched his long legs out and put his hands behind his head. “They’ll all be kissing my ass when I’m some famous rocker,” he scoffed.
With his arms back, I saw just a hint of the black cursive script that wound around his right bicep. Damn, he looked good.
“What?” Griffin said, sitting back up.
Shit, I’d gotten caught staring. “Um…what?” I said, shaking my head clear of the crazy thoughts going through my head.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked, draining his coffee cup.