by Marie James
“That same look you had in your eyes is identical to the one in his when he thought he lost Emmalyn many, many years ago. He knows what’s coming. You just have to give him a little time to wrap his head around his sweet little girl turning into a woman.”
“What if she doesn’t want me even after I’m stronger?”
“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.” My dad looks past me before standing to leave. “Don’t stay up too late. She’s got work in the morning.”
As if being visited by another ghost, I nearly have to pinch myself when I turn to see Ivy standing just inside the room. She’s either here because she’s able to keep her promise or because she’s mature enough to tell me to my face that she can’t love the man I became in Syria.
Chapter 32
Ivy
“It’s late, and I can’t stay long,” I mumble, for some reason unable to look him in the eyes. “I have work tomorrow.”
“I’m just glad you’re here.” Defeat fills his tone like he’s already given up on the idea of me. My heart shatters even more in my chest, squeezing with the possibility of losing him completely.
“Dad told me a little more about what happened just now.”
“Let me guess?” A long sigh escapes his lips, forcing me to raise my head. “You’re here to end things?”
Rising from the couch, he closes the distance between us, but he stops just shy of touching me as if he’s unsure of where his boundaries now lie.
“I knew it was a risk, especially with Kincaid in the room, but I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. The lies are haunting me as much as my actions are.”
“He said you’re a good man, but you lost your way.” Sorrow fills my throat, so I stop speaking. I vowed when I walked back in this house that I’d be strong for him, but seeing him so broken is testing my ability to keep that promise.
“But?”
I shake my head with the single word. “There was no but from my dad.”
He stumbles back a step. My brows draw together in confusion because he’s acting like I just delivered bad news. It has me, once again, wondering if I’ve misread what happened in the bathroom earlier. If I somehow got my signals mixed up with him insisting that I keep loving him.
Was he hoping I would walk away, and now I’ve thrown a wrench in his plans?
“What about you? Is there a but from you, Ivy?”
“Of course not.” I reach for him, but he avoids me by taking another step back.
“How can you—?” He shakes his head violently, and I prepare for the worst. “How can you be with a man like me?”
“A man like you? Do you mean a man that was forced to make a horrific decision? A man that is so eaten up with guilt he tried to drink himself to an early death?” I reach for him once again, and this time, he allows me to touch his upper arms. “Loving that man is easy.”
“You just haven’t given it enough time to sink in.”
“What did I promise you? Did I tell you my love for you was conditional? Did I do something to make you believe that I only love the pristine, perfect parts of you?” I press my head to his chest and wrap my arms all the way around him, wishing I was taller so I could stand this close and look him directly in his eyes. “I love you, and my feelings aren’t contingent on your past.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, but a sense of victory washes over me when he bends forward, pressing his lips to the top of my head. So long as he’s willing to touch me, I know we still have a fighting chance.
“You do,” I counter. “You deserve all the love anyone is able to give, myself included.”
A long sigh escapes his lips, teasing the top of my hair, but I can’t tell if it’s frustration due to not believing my words, or if it’s filled with a relief he never thought he’d be allowed.
“Will you stay with me again tonight?”
The request makes me hold him even tighter. I’m not ready to let him go, and I sense he feels the same way about me.
“You can set the alarm for work in the morning. I promise I won’t keep you from doing your job,” he adds when I don’t verbalize my agreement.
“So long as you don’t hog all the covers like you did last night.” I peer up at him with a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
He returns the grin, but there’s still unresolved pain and concern in his gorgeous blue eyes.
“Come on.” I miss his warmth immediately when he steps back, but he grasps my hand in his and leads me toward the staircase.
“Let your parents know where you are if you’re staying over again.”
I freeze at the bottom of the stairs when Misty appears out of nowhere. Griffin’s grip on my hand doubles as if he’s afraid I’m going to change my mind. I haven’t even thought about the repercussions of staying here with him. The prospect of asking my dad if I can sleep in the same bed with a boy I’ve always dreamed of loving makes my heart pound in my chest.
Griffin squeezes my hand again, but he’s stopped all attempts to urge me to continue up the stairs with him. His pleading eyes stare down at me when I look up to gauge his reaction.
“I’ll let them know,” I tell his mom without looking away from the man of my dreams.
I don’t want to upset anyone, and I’ve never been a defiant brat, but I don’t imagine there’s anything right now strong enough to make me leave his side.
“Okay. Sleep well, you guys.”
Misty disappears back into the kitchen, and even with her gone my cheeks heat from embarrassment. There wasn’t a hint that she suspects anything devious is going to happen. I don’t even have those types of expectations, and honestly, I’m too tired to do anything but sleep. Today has been emotionally draining, and I don’t have the energy for much else. Even with all of that, I’m still nervous about what his parents will think about me staying in his room since he’s no longer unconscious.
“This blush,” he says as his finger traces down the redness on my cheeks. His tone and the huskiness in his words stir things deep inside. Suddenly, I’m even more embarrassed, as if he can read exactly where my thoughts have gone.
“I need to go to bed,” I rush out at the same time my body inches in closer to him. I think I’m trying to convince myself more than him. My primal reaction to him is uncontrollable.
“After you.” He sweeps his arm wide, and I walk in front of him up the stairs. I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure he never takes his eyes off of me.
“I didn’t—” I pause, looking down at my clothes. “This wasn’t planned very well.”
“I have the perfect solution.” His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he steps closer, grabbing the hem of my t-shirt.
As if him undressing me is the most natural thing in the world, I raise my arms as he pulls the fabric over my head. Shyness creeps in again when he flicks open the back clasp of my bra, but I manage to drop my arms to my sides without covering myself. I enjoy the look in his eyes when he’s watching me, but it’s my own body’s reaction to his perusal that makes a tremor race down my spine. I’m a trembling mess when his hands flick open the button on my shorts.
“Griffin?”
He could want everything from me right now, and I wouldn’t object in the slightest, but the uncertainty of where this is heading makes me nervous.
“Shhh,” he urges, the warmth of his breath running over my bare shoulder. “We’re just getting ready for bed.”
I feel entirely exposed when my shorts slide down my legs and puddle around my ankles. I can feel his reaction to me as he wraps his arms around my middle and lifts me from the floor. His thickness presses into my stomach, and it brings all the memories back from our time in his bathroom earlier.
I hum my approval as he turns to place me on his bed. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist, and the motion causes me to open more for him. Just the slightest brush against me makes my body need him with a ferocity I’ve only been able to imagine thus far.
“I didn’t
think this through,” he groans. “I’m sorry.”
With his two word apology, he takes a step back forcing me to unwrap my legs from around him.
“Sorry? I’m not sorry.” I reach for him again, but he turns around and walks across the room.
“I didn’t bring you up here for this.” I don’t miss his hand as he adjusts his erection in the front of his jeans.
The only sound that fills the room is the delicate whisper of the dresser drawer when he tugs it open.
“All of my clothes I brought home need to be washed, but this,” he draws a t-shirt from the drawer and lifts it to his nose, “this actually stills smells fresh. My mother is amazing.”
I’m frowning when he turns back to me, offering me the t-shirt without getting close enough for me to touch him. He’s so put off by me that he wants to talk about his mother’s laundry skills?
“Here.” He shakes the shirt in his hand, but in a move that I’m sure looks ridiculous even though I’m shooting for sexy, I slide up onto my knees and inch closer to him.
“I’m comfortable like this.” Without touching myself, I indicate the length of my naked body.
“I’m not,” he grunts, and just when I think he’s rejecting me, his throat works on a swallow, and his hand jerks like he was going to touch himself again, but caught his reaction just in time.
“Shame.” I take the shirt from his hand, but brush my fingers down his strong forearm before clutching the fabric to my chest. After pulling the shirt over my head, I see his lips form a flat line, and I’m hopeful it means he’s a little sad that my breasts have disappeared. “Aren’t you going to get comfortable?”
“I’m good.” He clears his throat when the last words seem to get stuck.
“Griffin, don’t be ridiculous.” I climb off the bed and cross to him. Watchful eyes look down at me when I begin to lift his shirt up, but he doesn’t make a move to stop me. Once his shirt is over his head, I reach for the button and zipper on his jeans. Pretending I’ve done this a million times before, I slide the zipper down and push his jeans off his hips.
My confidence is renewed when I find him thick in his boxer briefs. I don’t reach to touch him, however. I clasp his hand, turning off the light on the way to the bed.
The cool, crisp sheets feel amazing against my skin, but when Griffin wraps his arms all the way around me, I know I’ve found my little slice of heaven. Him reaching for me while he’s awake is ten times better than touching me while he’s asleep.
“Turn over,” he urges.
When I’m situated facing him, he props himself up on one elbow and peers down at me.
“Thank you,” he whispers as his free hand tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“For what?” I ask, loving the softness on his face right now.
“For everything.”
His lips find mine, but there’s a softness to his kiss, not the urgency I’d expect with us both half-naked in the dark together. With his body pressed to mine fully, it’s easily clear what I do to him, so when he pulls back, pressing me to his chest and tells me goodnight, I don’t feel rejected.
Sleep comes easy, and as I drift off, I pray that every day from now until forever will end exactly like this.
Chapter 33
Griffin
“Go away,” I groan as I reach across the bed to wrap myself around Ivy.
The banging on the door continues, and I find my bed cold and empty. I remember Ivy kissing me goodbye this morning, but as I’m pulled from sleep, I pray I only imagined that part.
“Shit,” I hiss when the door swings wide, and I scramble to cover my morning wood before my dad walks in.
Surprisingly, it isn’t my father invading my space but Samson.
“You gonna sleep all damn day?” His grin is wide, and if it weren’t for the thickness I’m barely able to hide under the thin sheets, I’d climb off the bed and welcome him.
“Hey, man.” I scrub the sleep from my eyes. “When did you get home?”
“Late last night,” he answers, not giving a damn about privacy as he flops down on the end of my bed.
He jostles me, but the queasiness I expect to hit my stomach doesn’t show up, and I’m reminded that I haven’t had a drink in almost a week.
“Home for the summer?” I sit up on the bed, keeping the sheets over my waist.
“Home for good.” He gives me a wicked smile. “I’m going to take online classes my last year. There’re too many distractions at school. My grades were slipping.”
Samson has been going to college in Denver, and I can only imagine the trouble he was able to find up there.
“Nice. That’s great and all, but why are you in here bugging the shit out of me?”
“Your dad didn’t tell you?” I shake my head as my eyes narrow. He sighs, but he doesn’t seem surprised. “You have an appointment with the doctor.”
“I feel fine,” I mumble.
“I don’t think it’s for that kind of illness.” He taps his finger against his head, and I understand his meaning before he has to say the words. “I think your dad made the appointment.”
I’m throwing a fit in my head, but this is my problem, and not one I’m going to take out on Samson.
He leans back so he can access his pocket and pulls out a slip of paper.
“Dr. Alverez?” He flashes the paper, but he shoves it back in his pocket before I can read the entire thing.
“How long do I have to get ready?” I imagine I don’t have long. My father wouldn’t have sent him up here with enough time for me to find a way out of it, but since I promised him I’d work on myself yesterday, I appreciate his initiative. I didn’t want to have to go to an inpatient facility, so I guess seeing Dr. Alverez is his way of trying to prevent that as well.
“Your appointment is in thirty minutes.”
I spring off the bed. “Half an hour?”
He chuckles as I sprint for the bathroom door. I take the fastest shower known to man, doing my best to ignore the memories of Ivy’s whimpers the last time we were in here together. My cock is an unhappy camper when I only touch it long enough to get it clean.
“Damn that was fast,” Samson says when I walk out of the bathroom drying off.
“I know you two planned this. Asshole,” I mutter as I toss the wet towel at his head so I can get dressed.
“I’ll meet you in the car,” he says with a laugh, throwing the towel back at me.
When I fly down the stairs, I contemplate swinging by the kitchen but figure we can grab something to eat after the appointment. My saint of a mother is standing near the door with a wrapped breakfast sandwich.
“I knew you’d be hungry. Take this.” After handing me the sandwich, she offers me a credit card. “This HSA card should cover your appointment today.”
“I don’t need your money,” I tell her, refusing to take the card. “I can pay my own way.”
She huffs but doesn’t argue about it. I give her a quick kiss on the cheek and bolt out to the car.
“What? No breakfast for me?” Samson says when I close the passenger side door and unwrap the bacon-loaded goodness.
“Wanna split it?” I begin to pull the thing apart in the middle, but he holds up a hand and waves me off.
“Just kidding man. It’s after ten; my dads had a four-course breakfast waiting for me this morning.”
I chuckle and nod as I take my first bite. Both of his dads are engineers in the kitchen. I’m surprised no one in that house is three hundred pounds with how much food they put away.
“Have you gotten to see Lawson and Delilah?” I ask after I swallow my first bite.
“Yeah, but just for a little bit. I think we’re going to hang out at the pool for a little bit after we get back, but they fly out this evening.”
“How did you get roped into babysitting me today?”
He keeps his eyes on the gravel road as we pull out of the parking lot in front of the Cerberus clubhouse, but his face turns
serious. “I didn’t get roped into anything, and I’m not babysitting. I was chatting with your dad, and he tried to excuse himself so he could go wake you up, but I volunteered. You can drive yourself, but I just wanted to catch up. We haven’t seen each other in so long.”
It’s true. Samson and I grew pretty close over my last couple of visits home. With him being in Denver, it’s much easier for him to get home than Ivy, Lawson, and Delilah who live all the way across the country. My gut clenches with knowing she’s going to have to go back to school eventually.
“Did he tell you what’s been going on with me?” I hedge, unsure of what I need his answer to be.
He shrugs. “Not really. Just that readjusting to civilian life is harder for some than others.”
“Yeah.” I don’t know what else to tell him. We’re all pretty close, so it’s going to come out eventually, but I’m not in the mood to tell the story twice, and I suspect I’m fixing to have to spill it all to this doctor I’m scheduled to see.
“I commend you for getting help though.” Quickly he looks from the road to me, and I can see he truly means it. There isn’t an ounce of judgment on his face. “My Pop told me loads of guys wait until things are really bad before they’re forced to get help. So kudos to you.”
I cringe knowing, just from the story Ivy told about how I reacted before they drugged me that things had already gotten seriously bad for me. I take a deep inhale, reminding myself that I’m doing something about it now, and I seriously need to move forward.
“So tell me about these distractions you can’t seem to get away from in Denver.”
His laugh echoes in the cab of the truck.
“The girls in Denver are off the charts hot,” he begins, and the stories he tells me in the short distance to the hospital leave me climbing out of the truck with a wide smile on my face.
“So Kennedy Farmer is just a ghost from your past?” I ask as we walk toward the elevator bank on the first floor. Kennedy was the girl he dated his senior year, and he was pretty broken up when she decided to forgo college with him in Denver in favor of joining some rock band and moving out to California.
