Griffith rose and put his shoes in the locker alongside the shopping. With a sly smile, he said, “I only skate for recreation, but isn’t it essentially dancing on ice?”
“Uh-oh. I’m not liking the sound of this ‘recreational skating’.” Mark shook his head and slowly moved toward the ice rink outside.
Surprisingly few people skated on the glazed surface, but maybe it was for the better if Mark wasn’t to loose any digits to someone else’s blades. Griffith went first and made room for Mark by gracefully skating backwards, the wide smile still in place. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Mark groaned when he made his first steps onto the ice, even less stable than on the floor. “So unfair.” At least he had the mock-proposal to look forward to, though he would have loved to see Griff do it, going all red and flustered. Then again, he loved acting, so maybe he wouldn’t have minded it at all and made a scene out of it.
“It was your idea,” Griffith said, circling Mark on the ice as if he were a professional. But after a few seconds of mockery, he found some mercy in his heart and approached Mark, offering him his arm.
“So I don’t always have the best ideas, okay?” But Mark laughed as he grabbed Griff’s arm. He felt like a kid again. Not the kid who lived in fear of his father’s temper tantrums, but the kid he should have been, having fun with the guy he liked.
Griffith gave Mark both his hands and instructed him to hold on. They were so cold to the touch Mark was glad his own palms were there to provide warmth in exchange for the skating lesson. Still, next to Griffith, Mark felt like an elephant in a porcelain store—graceless and about to cause a disaster.
After witnessing several of Mark’s unsure steps on the ice, Griffith looked up. “It’s your first time, isn’t it?”
Mark’s face warmed up all too quickly. “Caught red-handed.” His heart beat faster at the innocent touch they shared and for once he wasn’t thinking about fucking Griff on that dance floor, but about the two of them sitting together in a cozy spot at the Christmas market, drinking wine from one cup, with Griff huddled under his arm. They would also share secret kisses under the bright lights, and life would be perfection.
Even though it was already clear Mark had lost their showdown on ice, Griffith continued explaining things and led Mark along the railing, showing him the right way to skate. Despite the ice feeling so hard and odd under his feet, after a while Mark started enjoying the sensation of gliding on the thin blades. Always by his side, Griffith was there to catch Mark when he lost balance, and even though Mark’s panicked face made him laugh, it wasn’t in any way mean.
But Mark could only keep up for so long, and when he’d just found his feet and skated on his own for long enough, his skate snagged over an invisible irregularity on the ice, and Griff was too far away to catch him.
He came over immediately, reaching out to help Mark up. On the glistening ice he seemed just as at home as he was in his dance studio, even though he made no elaborate jumps or figures. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
This was it then.
Mark held on to Griff’s hand but wouldn’t get up, raising one knee instead. Griff’s eyes going wide were the perfect sign that he understood what was happening. Mark prolonged the moment by pulling Griff’s hand to his lips and kissing the icy knuckles.
A few of the people circling the ice slowed down, but all he could really see was Griffith—his blue eyes getting that bit darker, and his lips opening slightly as he looked down at Mark surrounded by the halo created by the lamps behind him.
His cold fingers twitched in Mark’s hand when two women gravitated closer on the other side of the rink barrier, but he didn’t pull away, meeting Mark’s gaze in silence. Mark slipped his finger just that bit farther to sense Griff’s quickening pulse.
Mark took a deep breath. “Griffith Elswood, every day I see you, I realize just how happy you make me. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. This was something I never expected. Every time I think I’ve figured you out, you reveal a new side, and I will never get bored of that. Griff, will you marry me?”
Mark had no idea his heart could beat so fast. The stupid joke turned into something much more, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Griffith’s flushed face, glistening blue eyes, and the pink mouth that released clouds of steam over and over. He wanted to steal him away and never let him out of bed.
Griffith’s lips trembled, and he squeezed Mark’s hand, gently urging him to his feet. Despite the lively music, the ice seemed silent as if the whole world stopped breathing at once, locking them in the icy bubble, in the bright lights of the busy Christmas market.
When Mark rose, he expected a clear yes, maybe a hug, but Griffith leaned in and pressed their lips together, still holding on to Mark’s hands. The inside of his lips was hot and sweet, like molten chocolate and all the things warm and cozy, and his breath frantically danced against Mark’s skin.
Mark needed no more invitation. He slid his arms around Griff’s waist. When he held on to Griff, even on ice, he was stable. The world stopped spinning, allowing razor-sharp focus. When he kissed Griff, all past lovers, including Charlotte, were but a distant memory.
When a few people started clapping, Mark smiled into the kiss, exhilarated as if he’d really proposed. Griffith eventually broke the kiss and buried his face in the folds at the front of Mark’s jacket, and it was only then that Mark looked up and saw all the smiling faces.
It was so nice to have complete strangers express their joy at his happiness, even if the whole scene was fake. He gave everyone a little wave and then slowly urged Griffith toward the exit from the rink. This was enough skating for the day.
Regardless of the true reason behind the proposal, Griffith didn’t pull away and held Mark’s hand until they reached the edge of the ice and entered the locker space.
Was the kiss real though? It sure had tasted real.
Mark couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as they sat down in the changing rooms. “Ready to become Mr. Vincitore?” He leaned closer and stole a quick smooch.
Griffith licked his lips, which looked even riper than before. He blinked, squeezed Mark’s hand, and finally looked at him. “Will you spend Christmas with me?”
Mark stared back, blindsided by the question, but he gently reciprocated the gesture. “But you’re going home for Christmas, aren’t you?”
Griffith chuckled. “My parents always throw this big party on Christmas Eve, and there’s plenty of guest rooms. I’m sure they would be delighted that I made a new friend.”
Mark rubbed his thumb over the side of Griff’s hand. This was the best Christmas gift he could have gotten. “Thank you. I thought I’d be eating mince pies and watching Netflix.”
Griffith bit his lip and did that gentle shrug that meant he was both embarrassed and happy. It was the cutest thing ever. “I always get bored. Everyone’s so stuck-up. It’ll be nice to have company.”
Mark dared to give him another little kiss, and Griff didn’t back out either, only getting more flustered as he entwining their fingers.
Maybe Griffith wanted to see how his family would react to Mark. Baby steps. Mark could work with that. He would show Griff that he could be perfectly charming, and even get the parental seal of approval if necessary.
Chapter 14 - Griffith
What were they to each other? Boyfriends? Friends who kissed? Griffith had no idea, but Mark’s lips and arms were so addictive he couldn’t keep away any longer. They never spoke about what exactly had happened at the ice rink, but it changed their relationship. Mark remained the perfect gentleman and didn’t try to push Griffith into anything more than a bit of closeness on the sofa, but the greater freedom to touch gave Griffith a rush he hadn’t previously experienced.
And as lovely as that was, the growing tension between them filled his head with questions that kept him awake at night. The proposal had felt so real, even though it had come as the result of a bet. And now Mark was about to
meet Griffith’s parents. Did he think Griffith thought the proposal had been serious? Not in the ‘let’s get married’ kind of sense but as a proposal to be a couple?
There was no ring. Then again, was there need for a ring when two men were involved? Maybe there wasn’t.
For the nth time that day, Griffith changed in front of the large mirror in his room, still unsure of what he should wear. He wanted to impress Mark but also avoid disrupting his parents’ party by making too much of a statement. In the end, he gave a loud exhale and marched across the hall where Nisha was packing for a family trip. Her head popped up so abruptly the messy bundle of dark hair on top bobbed.
She grinned. “My, my, my, someone’s fancy.”
In her casual clothes, she looked so chilled-out Griffith envied her. Despite the many celebrations she partook in throughout the year, Christmas wasn’t a big event in her calendar.
Griffith took a deep breath and put the snowflake pattern tie against his white shirt and blue suit. “I don’t want it to be too much. What do you think?”
She cocked her head and took her time thinking. “No, it’s okay. A bit of winter to spruce it all up.”
“There’s also this one,” Griffith told her and presented the striped tie that was more in line with what his dad usually wore.
Nisha scrunched her nose and shook her head. “It’s a Christmas party. Live a little.”
Griffith exhaled but dropped the second tie on her dresser and put on the one with the snowflakes. The closer it was to the time when Mark was meant to pick him up, the more nervous he got. What if things went sideways? Griffith hadn’t told Charlotte he was bringing a guest, so that she didn’t poison their parents with gossip, but there was still a chance there was some truth to her warnings. Or that Griffith’s parents would outright hate Mark.
“Easy for you to say! You’re going to a cozy get-together in Snowdonia.”
Nisha groaned. “You’ve been to these parties so many times. You know what they’re like—oh… Is it about Mark?”
Griffith cleared his throat and adjusted the tie. It did go well with his eyes. “I’m not sure where I stand with him,” he admitted in the end, hoping that it didn’t sound too much like a cry for help. Nisha herself was busy dating, and he didn’t want to be that friend who unloads all their worries on others.
Nisha zipped up her suitcase and sat back on her bed. “Is he one of those guys who ‘just want to see where things go’?”
Griffith found himself fidgeting in the middle of her room. He hadn’t told her of the time he and Mark almost had sex in the dance studio. “I don’t know. He’s always eager to spend time with me, but we never really... you know, talked about what this thing between us is. And I don’t want him to think I’m childish.”
“How serious is it then?” Nisha patted the bed.
Griffith hesitated only a second before dropping next to her. His head felt empty, as if all rational thoughts have fizzled out. “It’s like we’re dating, but we haven’t defined the relationship, and the... uh, physical side isn’t moving forward much.”
“Oh…” The sound of that ‘oh’ was ominous and heavy. Like an anvil falling from the sky and about to crush Griffith.
He covered his face with his hands. “I know. This is hell. I don’t know how to be gay.”
“Maybe he’s new to it too, and doesn’t know how to proceed with a guy?”
“That’s not what he said,” Griffith told her, but put into words, the truth behind them only made him more insecure. What if Mark was afraid Griffith would be shit in bed?
“Ooh…” There it was again, that concerned sound that meant ‘this is bad’. “Have you at least done something?” she whispered the last bit.
Griffith’s hands dropped, and he looked at her with his heart in his throat. “Do you promise no one’s going to hear about this?”
Nisha sat up straight. “It stays between us.”
Griffith rubbed his hands together and exhaled. “He made a move on me way back, but I got so nervous I told him to leave.”
“Oh, no!” Nisha covered her mouth. “What did you do? Mark’s such hot stuff!”
“I know, okay? It just... happened. And then we were just friends for a while until we started kissing. And that’s how it’s been since. I don’t know what to do.”
“If he’s sticking around, then you know he likes you. The ball’s in your court, I’m afraid.”
Griffith scowled. He hated having the ball in his court. As an experienced player, couldn’t Mark come over and pick it up? “But what should I do? I have like... zero experience with this kind of thing. And it’s not like there are clear dating rules for gay people. Not that I know of at least. What if I fuck it up?”
Nisha rubbed his knee. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re taking him to meet your parents. He has to know you want him. Or, like… slip him a note?”
Griffith rolled his eyes. “A note saying what? I don’t want to be pushy.”
Nisha wiggled her shoulders with a grin. “You could say, ‘All I want for Christmas is your candy cane’.” She burst out laughing as if this wasn’t a serious matter.
Griffith wanted to chastise her, but the doorbell made him freeze. “Oh my God, he’s here!”
Nisha bit back a laugh. “Go on then. Pretend I’m not here.”
“I hate you sometimes,” Griff said and ran off.
Halfway down the corridor, he backed away to close Nisha’s door, and only then approached the entrance, trying to calm down.
One more deep breath, and he opened the door, planning to be all suave and chill, but then he saw Mark, and breathing wasn’t an option anymore.
Mark was so persistently handsome. Dressed, undressed, pajamas, tank tops, shirts—whatever he wore made Griff thirsty, but for the Christmas party, he’d taken it up a notch, and Griffith was at loss for words.
The black suit Mark wore was so sharp it could cut glass, with the shoulders emphasized by exquisite tailoring just as beautifully as the waist. The tie was fashionably slim, but it was the lapels that took the suit from polished to slightly edgy. Made out of velvet, one side was burgundy, the other - bottle green.
Mark was Christmas class personified, and when he smiled, holding up a bottle of wine, Griffith lost the will to visit his parents, wishing he could stay in with Mark instead and take that suit off him.
“Ready?” Mark asked.
Griffith nodded, but his gaze still lingered on the vision of the man in front of him. “You look... so fancy.”
Mark glanced down his body. Even the large box under his arm was wrapped in thick burgundy paper with a Christmas tree print, as if he’d chosen it to match his outfit. “Oh. It’s too much? You did say ‘elegant’.”
Griffith swallowed and brushed the back of his hand down the smooth velvet of the lapel. “No, it’s perfect. I’ve just never seen you in anything like this. I am so jealous right now.”
“Of my suit?” Mark straightened up as if he were about to salute, and gave Griff a cocky grin. “What can I say, it’s pretty fancy. My dad helped me choose it. He’s got an eye for stuff like this.”
Griffith laughed and placed both hands on Mark’s chest, feeling as if his own had been filled with cotton candy. “You look gorgeous.”
Mark leaned in for a kiss, melting Griff on the spot. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” he whispered, and when he nuzzled Griff’s cheek, the butterflies erupting everywhere in Griffith’s body were almost too much to handle. Griffith might have loudly whimpered, but he chose to believe that he had not, for the sake of his sanity.
“Thank you. I hope you won’t be sorry you agreed to this. Those parties can be a minefield, but I’ll lead you to safety.”
Mark laughed and scooped Griff out of the doorway with the same hand he held the wine in. “Oh, good, I’m trembling already.”
Griffith felt the touch all the way in his balls, and he briefly hid away in Mark’s warm chest. He smelled so nice too. “We’ll
see what you say once you meet my parents and their friends. I’m way more excited about tomorrow’s dinner. It’ll be more private.”
He backed away to grab his luggage and lead the way to the staircase.
“So how big is this thing then?” Mark asked.
Griffith licked his lips. “The headcount’s usually around thirty, maybe forty. Mother likes to invite people who she did charity work with within the given year.”
“Mother? Oh, man… What did I get myself into?”
Mark led the way to his car and opened the trunk, seemingly unaware of Griffith ogling him. It was hard to comprehend that someone as amazing as Mark could look yet more stunning. How would Griff focus in those conditions? Would someone notice that his glances at Mark were too long? Was bringing him to the party a gigantic mistake that would out Griffith to his parents’ acquaintances?
“My mum can be a bit uptight, so be careful when you talk to her,” Griffith said as he put his things inside.
And just as he was about to go sit in the car, Mark beat him to it and opened the door for Griff with a smile that could improve even the worst of moods. “What charity does she support then? What should I know?”
Griffith hesitated, but then offered Mark a smile and sat down with a warm feeling heating him up despite the frosty temperature inside the car. “She runs a charity that helps working horses and donkeys so that they don’t end up in the slaughterhouse once they can no longer drag heavy carts or be ridden. They buy out the animals if they are mistreated, and then rehouse them.”
“Okay, conversation topic noted.” Mark started the car and they were off. “Will your parents grill me? Like, about what my parents do for a living, or something?”
Did Mark think Griff would introduce him as his boyfriend? The lack of certainty was consuming his stomach and leaving him aching.
Griffith cleared his throat. “They might. They like to know who I associate with, and I told them we met at the jazz bar close to our building. That we’re friends and your work doesn’t allow you to go home for the holidays.”
A Breath of Innocence Page 19
