by Marie Meyer
His fingers were relentless. They touched the spirals…the pages…trying to grab it from the floor. If I just showed him, I could spill my guts, and tell him what I wanted.
But that took bravery. And I wasn’t brave enough to feel his rejection again.
Griffin was just about to bring the picture around his head, ready to get a good look. I lunged forward and smacked the book from his hand. My sketchbook went sailing to the other side of the room, landing almost in front of the door, a few feet away.
“What the fuck!” he shouted. “Why’d you do that?” He sat up on the bed, shock written all over his face.
“I…I’m sorry.” I tripped over my words, shaking my head because I didn’t have a better answer.
Griffin pulled his feet up and rolled all the way to other side, planting his feet on the ground. Standing up, he took a step in my direction. He lightly pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger and drew my head up, forcing me to look him in the eye.
“You better start talking. What’s wrong?” His baritone voice rumbled through his core and into mine.
I stared into his probing gaze, waiting for the right words to tumble out. But I didn’t have any “right” words…at least none I was brave enough to say.
Not pressing me for an answer, he just brought me to his chest. He always knew what I needed. Sometimes better than I did.
“Come on, get changed. We’ve got somewhere to be,” he said, pulling away from me, smirking.
Chapter Sixteen
Griffin slowed my car and pulled into a long, gravel driveway. Three years ago, his parents had bought an old farmhouse just outside of the city limits and spent all their free time fixing it up—it had always been one of Mrs. Daniels’s dreams. In that time, she’d managed to transform the dingy, rundown, twelve-room home into something palatial and radiant.
Killing the engine, Griffin pulled the keys out and smirked at me. “They’ve been dying to see you.” He pushed opened the door and looked over his shoulder. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. I tugged on the latch and swung the door out wide. Stepping onto the driveway, I took in the grand estate. The front door was surrounded by two large pillars on both sides. A balcony, accessible from the master bedroom on the second floor, was directly above the main entrance. All the other rooms were recessed on both sides of the beautiful entryway.
Griffin came around the car, holding his hand out for mine. He pulled me up the walk and we went right inside. Awesomesauce, Griffin’s parents’ French bulldog, came scampering down the stairs, barking gruffly. “Hey, buddy,” Griffin crooned, bending over to scratch behind the dog’s ears. Last year, Griffin’s bandmate Pauly had been forced to give up the dog or be kicked out of his apartment for possession of an illegal pet. Griffin had talked his parents into adopting Awesomesauce. At first, Mrs. Daniels wanted no part in a dog, but once she saw the blond, pointy-eared ball of cuteness, she couldn’t say no. She had wanted to change his name, but Griffin wouldn’t hear of it. Mrs. Daniels still refused to call the dog by his name, only referring to him as Mr. A.
Awesomesauce rolled over onto his back, begging Griffin to scratch his belly. “Come on, boy. Let’s go see what that amazing smell is.”
When Griffin talked to animals or babies it always brought a smile to my face. His low, deep timbre softened and made my heart melt instantly. Griffin looked at me and smiled, nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen.
Standing in the foyer, I drew in a large breath, taking in the scents of turkey and apple pie. It smelled divine. My stomach rumbled in anticipation. “Everything smells heavenly,” I said blissfully.
Griffin tapped his leg, encouraging Awesomesauce to follow along as we started for the kitchen. “Mom insisted we have a late Christmas dinner, so I could pick you up.” Griffin said, looking over his shoulder at me.
Mr. and Mrs. Daniels had always been like surrogate parents to me. If it hadn’t been for them, I probably wouldn’t have met Dr. Hoffman and gotten the help I needed.
“Mom, we’re here,” Griffin called, walking down the hallway. His boots clomped on the shiny floor and Awesomesauce trotted at his heels. “Mom?” he called again.
“I’ll be down in a minute!” Mrs. Daniels hollered from somewhere upstairs.
Griffin turned around and shrugged.
Following behind, I stepped lightly on the shiny, cherrywood floors. On our way, we passed by a stream of evergreen garland wrapped around the grand staircase, illuminated by sparkling, clear Christmas lights. It looked like a scene right out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Whenever we came into the kitchen, I always marveled at its size. The house I grew up in could practically fit inside this kitchen.
Griffin went to the oven and pulled it open, peeking inside. He hummed, inhaling a giant whiff of turkey. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said, closing the oven door and turning around.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling overwhelmingly happy.
Griffin lowered his brow. “For what?” he asked, walking back to me. He took my purse and set it on the floor beside him, returning his hands to my shoulders. Slowly, he pushed my coat back, dragging his hands down my arms as my coat slipped off. “I’ll put these up for you,” he said with a wink, picking up my purse.
“Jillian!” a sweet voice sang from behind me.
I turned around and saw Mrs. Daniels in the doorway. “Mrs. Daniels,” I said, walking over to greet her. Her lips pressed together in a thin smile, holding her arms open wide, she brought me close. Compared to all the freakishly tall people I spent my time with, it was nice to be at eye level with someone for a change.
“It’s so good to see you, sweetie.” She rocked me back and forth. “We’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
She pulled away but didn’t let me go. Her thin smile touched her dark eyes, the ones she’d given Griffin. Slipping her arm through mine, she patted my hand and led me toward the island in the center of the kitchen, stepping around Griffin and the dog. As we walked by, I caught Griffin’s eye and he shook his head, grinning.
“Hey, Ma, remember me? Your son?” Griffin tapped her on the shoulder.
“Oh, shoo.” She waved her free hand, brushing Griffin out of the way. “You’re here at least three times a week raiding my refrigerator.” She smiled at him, and he stepped out of her way.
“I don’t know,” he crooned. “I’ve always suspected you liked her better than me.”
“Well, duh,” Mrs. Daniels joked back. “She’s much easier on the eyes.”
“I can’t disagree with you there, Ma.”
I giggled, feeling my cheeks redden. It was nice to watch them lovingly jab at one another. Griffin had always gotten along really well with all of his family members. The Daniels family were a tight-knit clan that would drop everything at a moment’s notice if a loved one was in need. I’d seen it happen when I was bleeding to death on Jennifer’s bathroom floor two years ago. When Griffin found me, it was the Daniels who stood vigil at my bedside, not Jennifer.
Mrs. Daniels pulled out a bar stool for me to sit, while she went to work chopping the fresh vegetables that were spread out on the countertop.
“I’m gonna go find Pop,” Griffin said on his way to the living room. “Don’t talk about me too much while I’m gone.”
Mrs. Daniels picked up a small piece of broccoli and tossed it at Griffin’s head. “Didn’t I tell you to shoo?” Awesomesauce waddled over, sniffing the fallen vegetable, and turned his nose up at it.
“I’m shooing!” Griffin held his hands up, trying to block any other flying vegetables.
“Let me help you with that,” I said, reaching for the extra knife lying on the counter.
Mrs. Daniels gently laid her hand on mine and shook her head. “Nonsense. You’re on vacation. You sit, relax, and tell me all about school.”
Although she’d never admit it, ever since my accident, Mrs. Daniels always
tried her best to keep sharp objects out of my reach. Steak night at the Daniels’ household was highly entertaining. It was laughable watching everyone try to cut their steaks with butter knives, because Mrs. Daniels wanted to make sure I didn’t hurt myself with the steak knife. I didn’t mind that she babied me; she was the closest person I had to a mother, and she was amazing.
I watched her chop away at the stalks of broccoli, arranging the florets into a decorative pattern. “School’s good,” I said. “Hard, but I’m learning.”
“It’s good to be challenged. You need to talk some sense into that boy of mine. I can’t get him to take more than one or two classes a semester.” She shook her head, disgusted.
I loved Mrs. Daniels, but my loyalties were always with Griffin. I’d defend him with my dying breath if I had to. “Yeah, but Mine Shaft is doing so well right now. I know he’s having a hard time juggling all of his commitments.”
She peered at me from under her heavy eyelids and smirked. Griffin looked exactly like her when he did that…well…except for the sexy as hell “I haven’t shaved in three days scruff” he always sported. I was sure Mrs. Daniels couldn’t pull that off the way Griffin did.
“I just wish he’d take school more seriously. He’s so bright. He could be anything if he put his mind to it.” Her motherly concern was evident.
“No disrespect, Mrs. Daniels, but Griffin is doing what he wants. He’s put his mind to being a musician, and he’s good at it. It may not be what you want for him, but he’s choosing his own path.”
Mrs. Daniels shook her head and smiled. “Well, in my defense, you’re probably not the best person to voice my concerns to. Griffin could be one of those people who advertise pizza by flipping a sign on the roadside, and you’d still have stars in your eyes when you talk about him.”
My cheeks warmed in response to her knowing stare, and I had to avert my gaze.
Mrs. Daniels chuckled and transitioned to her carrots.
The back door pulled open and Awesomesauce barked, running to greet whoever was about to come inside. Griffin’s sister Ren pushed open the door.
Ren wasn’t nearly as tall as her brother—then again, who was—but she was taller than most girls, standing at five-eleven. She and Griffin both had their mother’s olive complexion, dark hair, and eyes, but their height came from their dad. Mrs. Daniels was as short as I was.
The last time I’d seen Ren, about a week before I left for school, she’d had really long, curly hair. But now it was cut into a short pixie.
“Jillian!” she sang, dropping her purse and gift bags onto the dog and running at me with open arms. “When did you get back?” she asked, enveloping me in a hug.
“About two and a half weeks ago,” I said. “Your hair is so cute. When did you cut it?”
She pulled back and ran her hand over some of the spikey pieces. “Oh, about a month ago. I was in the mood for something different. And there’s a lady at work whose daughter was diagnosed with cancer. A bunch of us in the office decided to donate our hair to Locks of Love in honor of her daughter.”
“That’s really cool. And it looks great.” I hadn’t only missed Griffin, I’d missed the whole Daniels family.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” She beamed. “Maybe now Griffin won’t be such a moody dickhead.”
“Renata Daniels, watch your mouth!” Mrs. Daniels scolded.
She looked at her mom. “What? He has been.” She scowled before turning her attention back to me. “Jillian, since you left, Griffin’s been impossible to be around.”
Huh. I let her comment swirl around in my head. I’d try to decipher its meaning later. For now, I was happy just spending Christmas evening with my family.
* * *
Mr. Daniels carved the turkey while everyone passed around the side dishes. Once our plates were filled to capacity, Mr. Daniels said grace and we dug in.
For the first few minutes, we ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the feast Mrs. Daniels had prepared. “This is great, Mom,” Griffin said. The rest of us nodded in agreement, adding our compliments to Griffin’s.
“Thank you, thank you,” she replied. “I’m just glad to have all of my kids back, safe and under one roof.”
My heart skipped a beat, knowing she counted me as one of her children. Griffin gave me a close-lipped smile in between mouthfuls of food.
“Jillian,” Mr. Daniels said, “Griffin mentioned that you have a big project coming up this semester.”
“Yeah, I do,” I responded. “Fashion majors are required to do a runway show at the end of the year. I’m excited about it, but it’s going to be a stressful semester.”
Mr. Daniels waved his hand in jest. “Nonsense. You’ll do fine. I may not know anything about designing clothes, but I do know you are talented.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling. Griffin patted my leg affectionately. “Speaking of ‘talented,’ though, Griffin’s the one doing well.” I bumped him playfully with my shoulder.
“Yeah, who would have thought my goony little brother would become the front man of a hot new band?” Ren teased.
“I have never been ‘goony.’” Griffin shot her a look, pretending to be offended.
“Oh, really? Should I get out the photo albums?” Ren countered.
“Shhh, Ren.” Griffin held his pointer finger to his lips. “Don’t mention those in front of Mom, or she’ll never let us leave,” he said in an affected whisper.
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Mrs. Daniels smirked.
“I don’t know, Griff. You were pretty goony,” Mr. Daniels chimed in. “What was your nickname in middle school?”
“Oh, I know,” I laughed, raising my hand. “Bird Boy.” I got right in his face when I said it, too. “Because you were so freakishly tall and skinny, everyone said you had bird legs.”
Griffin threw his hands up in surrender. “I give up. But, just so you know, you all suck.” He pointed to each of us. Even though he sounded hurt, the megawatt smile on his face told a different story.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Griffin’s family had always thrived on giving each other crap. It was one of the many ways they showed their affection.
* * *
By the time Griffin and I got ready to leave, it was well after midnight. Ren had left an hour ago and Mr. Daniels was fast asleep in his recliner, snoring louder than a jackhammer plowing through concrete. Awesomesauce was curled up on Mr. Daniels’s lap, and refused to move, even to see us off.
Mrs. Daniels walked us to the door, and I gave her hug good-bye, knowing it would be summer before I saw her again. Griffin’s parents enjoyed spending the first few months of the year in Phoenix, something they had done ever since Ren and Griffin moved out on their own.
“’Bye, Ma,” Griffin said, kissing her cheek. “You and Dad take it easy driving out there.”
“We will, Baby Boy.” Mrs. Daniels hugged her son. She looked so tiny in his arms. She had always called him Baby Boy, but seeing him hulking over her, it didn’t seem possible that she’d once carried him in her arms. “You two be careful. I love you.” She held onto Griffin just a moment more and then let go.
Griffin stepped back to my side, and draped his arm around my shoulder. “We will. I love you, too.” Griffin drew me closer and I noticed Mrs. Daniels’s smile widen in response to the way he touched me.
“You take care of her, Griffin,” his mothered ordered sweetly.
Griffin looked down at me, and his face softened. “I always try, Ma.”
Griffin and I walked to the car and got in. Mrs. Daniels watched from the doorway as we pulled out of the driveway.
“Thank you, Griffin. That was exactly what I needed.” I said, relaxing back into the seat. I was emotionally sated.
Griffin glanced at me and smiled, laying his hand on my leg again. But this time, it wasn’t a quick pat. This time he left it there, trailing his fingers up and down. The friction between his fingertips and my jeans made every nerve cell in my body stand at atte
ntion. Occasionally, he’d squeeze my leg at the top of his north/south journey, and I had to bite my lip to keep from straddling him and planting my mouth on his. Is that what he wants? Am I ready to try again?
Every so often, he’d turn his head and look at me—almost daring me to make the next move. I wanted to, but a tiny barb of apprehension was still stuck in my heart, and I couldn’t figure out how to remove it, and tell him how I felt.
I was pulled from my thoughts when Griffin removed his hand from my leg and sat up straighter in the seat. Outside the window, a line of traffic inched along—very odd, considering how late it was.
Griffin concentrated on the road and I craned my neck, trying to see beyond the cars in front of us. Red and blue strobes pulsed and spun, an ominous glow penetrating the darkness. A stationary emergency vehicle flashed an arrow, shifting oncoming traffic to the outer lane. As we approached the sight of the accident, a motorcycle was being loaded onto a tow truck.
My stomach sank. “Did you get a helmet yet?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he said guiltily.
“WHAT?” I roared. “You haven’t gotten a fucking helmet yet?” My temper went from zero to ballistic in point-three seconds.
“I haven’t really had time. I eat and breathe Mine Shaft right now.”
“Ugggh!” I growled. “I am so pissed at you right now!” I crossed my arms over my chest, fighting off the urge to throw something. Fury quickened my heart rate, and my pulse beat in my ears.
Griffin had turned left, heading through town toward Jennifer’s house, when it dawned on me that he had met me at Jennifer’s, which meant his bike was still there. He was planning on driving that thing back to his apartment without a goddamned helmet. Urrgh! “Where are you going?” I asked indignantly.
“To Jennifer’s?” He cut a quick look at me, confused by my question.
“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “Go to your place. I’ll drop you off and drive myself back to Jennifer’s,” I said.
