by J. P. Grider
But when I reach the glass door, Cali is standing on the other side. Her curls, a tumbling mess falling over her shoulders. She's wearing no makeup, and it looks like her eyes have been shedding tears for days. When she tilts her head and pulls in her upper lip, I remember to open the door. Shaking my head to focus, I ask her to come in.
"I hope I'm not bothering you," she says, trying to smile.
"Of course not. Sit," I tell her, pointing to the chair by Joey's desk.
"No. I'm good. I... I just want to apologize. For the other night. You were trying to help and I... I took... well, I shouldn't have been so nasty. I'm sorry." Her teeth nibble on her bottom lip, while her eyes bear into mine.
"You don't need to apologize, Calista. I understand. I'm sorry that I caused your meltdown. I shouldn't have shown up..."
The palm of her hand is suddenly on my chest. Right over my heart. My body is shivering and burning at the same time. "It wasn't you," she speaks so softly, her breath a whisper away.
Her hand is still over my heart, so I cover it with mine and try to keep my breathing steady.
"It was... it was everything," she whispers, her eyes closed. "I was drowning, Griffin." She opens her eyes and looks at me.
With my one hand still covering hers, I wrap my other arm around her back and pull her close. Kissing the top of her head, I whisper, "I just wanted to be the one to rescue you."
She looks up at me with big watery charcoal eyes. "I don't need you to rescue me, Griffin. I just need... I need you... to love me."
"I do love you, Calista. And because I love you, I hurt when you hurt. It's only natural for me to want to be there to make your pain go away."
She pulls back from me and releases her hand from my chest, but I hold on to her hand.
“That’s, well,” she takes a deep breath, “that’s something I’m going to have to work on accepting. It’s a new concept for me, Griffin. I just can’t… it’s not easy for me to… to take… without giving. I…”
“But that’s the thing, Calista. When two people love each other, there’s no keeping score. There’s no, ‘I did this for you, now you do this for me.’ No. If you need me, I’m there. Unconditionally. Can’t you accept that?”
She stares at me for a while before she opens her mouth. “I don’t know, Griff. I love you, and I get that you will always want to help me. I appreciate that, and I will learn to accept your help… as a friend. But… I’m still not sure about us… as a couple. I mean… it’s just… you’re Nathan’s brother. I’m Nathan’s sister. Doesn’t that gross you out? When you really think about it?”
“No, Calista, it doesn’t.” I say strongly. “All that matters to me are my feelings for you. I love you. There is no blood between us, so it isn’t wrong. I don’t understand why you don’t see that. You and I were raised separately and so were you and Nathan. So you are letting a minor technicality come between us.”
“It’s not a minor technicality, Griffin. Nathan and I share the same blood.”
“But Nathan and I don’t.”
Cali stands there dumbfounded, probably letting my comment sink in. Hopefully letting my comment sink in.
“Give me time, Griff?” she finally asks.
“Okay,” I answer, resigning myself to the fact that if we’re going to be together, I’m going to have to let her come to that decision on her own.
"So..." she looks around the office, at the walls, at the desk, "Can I see your car?" she asks impulsively.
"What?"
"Your Olds. You must be almost done with it by now, no?"
Her hand is still attached to mine when she turns to walk through the door of the office into the garage. "Oh. You're working on your BMW too?"
My bimmer is raised up on the lift. "Just rotating the tires."
"Is the Olds in there?" She points to the spray booth on the other side of the garage.
"Um. No. No, I finished it. A while ago."
She whips her head around. "Oh my God, you're done? I wanna see it. Where is it?"
"It's not here."
"Oh. She grabs my other hand and pulls me so we're two inches away. "Take me to it. I'll drive my new car to your new car."
"You got a new car?" I ask, surprised. I pull her another inch closer so that we're almost nose to nose.
"Well... new for me. It's a 2012 two-door Honda Civic. Red. With an MP3 player hook-up. It's so cool." She's beaming. Her smile is absolutely precious.
"Red, huh? You must look hot in it."
I get a flash of a smile and a "wanna check it out?" from her.
"Suuurrre," I say, dragging the word out. "But... first..." I push her to arm’s length and walk her backwards to Joe's desk.
There’s a hint of a smile as she bites her lip. "Where are we going?" she asks.
I’m happy she wants to be my friend right now, and though I want her as more than a friend, I’m afraid, right now, I am going to ruin that as well.
We're back in Joey's office. I lift her up by the waist and set her down at the desk's edge. Sitting down on the chair in front of the desk, I cup my hands just above her calves. She's wearing jeans, but she still feels my fingers caressing the back of her knees. Her tiny moans are making me hard, especially because I realize that it’s going to be just as hard for her to be just friends as it is for me.
But I swallow my desire.
Then I swallow my fear,
and
blurt,
75
Cali
"I sold the Olds."
My legs still and my hands grasp the edge of the desk.
"Whhhyyy?" I ask slowly. Softly. Suspiciously.
Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, then suddenly his eyes pop open and he exhales. "To help you," he says.
My hands move from the desk to my stomach back to the desk then back to my stomach.
Then to my heart.
That's when I slap him across the face and jump off the desk. "Nate?" I ask. "The 401k? The scholarship?" My breathing picks up and I think I'm going to hyperventilate again. "It was all you?" I catch my breath again. "All your money?"
My stomach hurts. My chest hurts. And I feel betrayed all over again. I start pacing the room from front to back before sitting in the chair behind the desk. "It was your money?" I repeat.
"It was my money," he simply echoes. No contrition in his voice.
"How could... oh my God... how could you... how could you do that?" I am seeing red at the moment.
Griffin, still sitting on the chair in front of the desk, he takes a deep breath and leans forward. "Just a second ago, you said you’d try.”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t expect…”
“You can take this one of two ways, Calista,” I cut her off. “You can sulk about it and let it eat at your pride that someone needed to help you... to pull you off of that sinking ship before it went completely under. Or you can swallow your pride, accept it with dignity, and know that someone loved you enough to want to help. 'Cause Calista, you were drowning out there... and because I love you so much... you were pulling me under with you." He sits back and breathes again. "I had the lifeboat, sweetheart... and I'd have been damned if I went off without saving us both."
My hand jumps to my mouth, and I try to keep from letting my emotions show. But that is near impossible for me to do, because Griffin just made me cry. I don't know if I want to slap him again, or jump into his arms. I don't know if selling his car for me was the worst thing he could have done to us... or the best. I'm torn between wanting to give him all the money back, tossing it in his face, or mustering the biggest thank you in the world.
"You said yourself the other day," Griffin speaks again, now sitting forward, his hands crossed on the desk, "that you were proud of your mother for accepting Nathan's help. Why was that okay for her?" He tilts his head. He's crying too, and I just know it's because he sees my eyes watering. "Why was it okay when you thought it was Nathan's money?"
I sit there,
frozen, staring at him. I know the answer to his question, and yes it does have a lot to do with pride. But it's more than that. "Because I'm not in love with Nathan," I say quietly. "And I'm not looking to be his equal."
Griffin stands up, walks around the desk, and pulls me up from my chair, keeping hold of my hands.
"California," of course he knows this gets me flustered, and it knocks down some of my resolve, "you are my equal. Correction. You are my everything. Just because I can help you out financially, doesn't mean I think less of you. My God, I think so highly of you because of your kindness. Your generosity. I have never known anyone who would offer a total stranger their last ten dollars like you did when we first met. Before I met you... I don't think I would have ever even thought of selling my Olds. You make me see what's real in this life, Calista. You make me want to be a better person." He grips my hands tighter and steps toward me, bringing us chest to chest. Nose to nose.
"California, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are the ballad on my classic rock albums. You are my 1963 Ferrari 250 GTO. You are..."
"Wait. What?" My recently frozen heart where Griffin is concerned is finally thawing, but then he throws in this Ferrari reference. "A Ferrari what?"
"It's the most expensive car in the world," he says, smiling. Running his thumb down my cheek. "It means you're the cream of the crop, California. There is no way I can get better than you... because you are the best."
"The most expensive? Griffin... I'm the run-down, beaten-up old Toyota. How can you say...?"
He cuts me off with a kiss. No tongue. Just a short, tender, I-love-you kind of kiss.
“So, how ‘bout it, California? Can I be your boyfriend again?”
I drop my head, because what I’m feeling makes my heart hurt. “I still need time, Griffin. I need to collect my thoughts, collect my feelings...” I unclasp myself from his grasp. “I love you, Griffin. I really do, but… give me more time, please.”
He stands there, hands now dangling at his sides, and looks into my eyes. “If that’s what you need,” he says, and I hear the lump in his throat. His eyes begin to fill, and it breaks my heart.
Shaking my head, I whisper, “I’m sorry,” and walk out of the garage, wishing I’d never stepped foot in here today.
76
Two days after Christmas.
Griffin
Today sucks.
77
Six days after Christmas.
New Year’s Eve.
Griffin
Today still sucks.
But I’m not going to let this go on any longer.
I made that decision yesterday when I went to the homeless shelter nearby and donated all the things I didn’t need in the first place – my extra pair of Doctor Martens, my two-hundred dollar sneakers, my stupid expensive New York City t-shirts, and the second stereo system that I had delivered but never opened.
Maybe if I can be someone that Calista could relate to a little bit more, she’ll look past the fact that I am Nathan’s step-brother and embrace the fact that I’d do anything for her. Anything. If she’d feel better about me cutting all my ties to my family, I’d even do that. She is that important to me.
But in an attempt to win her back, today I am showing up with something that I think is important to her.
I place the box down on the grass in front of her front porch and ring her doorbell.
“Griffin,” she says in surprise when she opens the door.
“Got a minute?” I ask, nervous as hell.
“Sure. Wanna come in?”
“No. I’ll just… I’ll be quick.”
“Okay,” she says, grabbing my sweatshirt, which I gave her the day her father died, off the hook by her door and stepping outside.
Now that she’s standing here right in front of me, I’m afraid of what her reaction is going to be. But this will mean a lot to her, and I just have to bite the bullet and do what I have to do. “I love you.”
She bites her bottom lip, and though she doesn’t smile, there’s a hint of a smile in her eyes.
“I know you know that. And I know I said I’d give you time.” I take a deep breath and wish for the best. “But… I can’t wait any more. I want you. And I’m pretty sure you want me too. And maybe, just maybe, you can forget that Nathan is my step-brother, you can forget that I have a crap load of money, and you can just… you can just see me. The naked me. The me that was meant to be with you. I don’t know why God put me with a family that had money, while He put you with one that didn’t, but that shouldn’t matter. What should matter is the immense fact that I love you and you love me and together we are terrific.” I take a breath, because I don’t think I breathed a bit of air while declaring my love to California. But when I go to speak again, I notice that she’s smiling. A full-on smile. And this gives me courage.
I take her hand and lead her to the porch railing. “See that box?” I say, pointing to the torn and worn brown cardboard box I set on her front lawn.
“Yeah,” she says skeptically.
“You know what was in that box?”
She shakes her head.
“My green Docs, those Nikes you tripped over at my house, that t-shirt I bought in New York… and a few others I bought before I met you. I gave them to that homeless shelter you stayed in.”
She turns to me with big eyes. “You did?”
“Yup. I also gave them that second stereo system I’d ordered. I figured they could enjoy it more than me.”
“Griffin. Why?”
“Because I don’t need it. Truthfully, I don’t need anything that I own. The only thing I need in order to breathe is you.”
She breaks down right there and cries.
“Why do you have to be so good, Griffin?”
“I’m not good, Cali. But I am good for you. And that’s all that matters to me.” With my thumb, I brush away a few of her tears. “There’s one thing, though, that’s left in the box. I thought maybe you’d like it.”
She wipes at her tears and smiles. “I don’t need anything, Griffin. You’ve already done so much for me. I… I think… I’m done taking that time. I’m so sorry I made you wait.”
My heart starts pounding. “Seriously?”
“Seriously?”
Momentarily, I forget about the box and pull her into my arms, kissing the fuck out of her. When I’ve finally gotten it all out of my system, I pull away just far enough to look into her eyes and say, “Cali Parker, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”
With a huge smile – on her lips, in her eyes, on her face – she says, “I’d love to spend the rest of my life with you, Griffin Brooks.”
I take her face in my hands and lean in to kiss her when we hear a yelp.
“Oh my God, what was that?” she says.
“Oh my God… the box.”
78
Cali
“I forgot about the box,” Griffin says, running down and dropping to the ground next to the box.
Of course, I follow.
“This is for you,” he says to me, pushing the open box at my knees.
Before I can look inside, a little white and gray puppy leaps out of the box. I suck in my breath and when I exhale, I let out a yelp myself. “Oh my God, Griffin.” I sit back on my heels and cuddle the puppy on my lap. “Where did you find him?”
“I rescued him. He was the runt of a litter and no one wanted him. I got him this morning.”
I look at Griffin. I really look at him. “You rescued him for me?”
He nods. “Your plant needed a buddy.”
I cry and laugh at the same time. “Oh my God.” I reach over and hug Griffin with one arm while hugging the puppy with the other. “Thank you so much. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You already have, California. You already have,” he says quietly.
“Buddy,” I say sitting back again.
“Buddy?”
“Buddy. That’s his name. Buddy.”
> “I like it,” Griffin says, smiling.
And that’s when I realize it.
Griffin doesn't care about money or my lack of it. He cares about me. And taking care of me. He's the boy who gave me his new Gameboy in exchange for my crappy old one. He's the boy that enjoys listening to my parents' old rock albums on my record player. He's the boy that sold his many hours of hard work, sweat, and tears to keep me from a life of the same. He’s the boy who bought me a puppy, because he knows how much I need one. And when I look into his eyes, I see his love, not his pity. And I see that we don't live in different worlds after all. He lives for me...
I am his world.
And he is mine.
THE END
Acknowledgments
THANK YOU… to Sue Toth, my editor and friend – without your editing expertise, and your unsurpassed knowledge and eye for detail, I would not be only pulling my hair out, I wouldn’t be publishing this book. Thank you.
THANK YOU…to Niina Cord, my fabulous cover designer – your covers ROCK! Thank you for making mine so awesome.
THANK YOU…to my author friends Kathleen Ball, Amber Dane, and Stefan Ellery – your advice and encouragement keep me from falling flat on my face. Thank you for that, because falling on my face would really hurt.
THANK YOU…to my amazing street team – you guys are the best! I really appreciate the time you put in to reading my books and promoting my name. Thank you so much.
THANK YOU…to author Layla Hagen for giving me the biggest compliment ever. You make me excited to publish this book.
And the biggest THANK YOU of all – to my husband Johnny – I couldn’t spend hours writing on the couch if you weren’t helping around the house. I know it is a thankless job, but I really do appreciate it…more than anything. I love you. xoxo
