by Marie Meyer
With my heart in full control, I closed the two-inch gap between us and pressed my lips to his. I froze, remembering what had happened last time.
Griffin grabbed my shoulders and my heart thumped, preparing for another onslaught of pain. But in the span of two seconds, he pressed me onto my back and pinned me beneath him.
Griffin slowly lowered his body onto mine, leaving no space between us. He took my breath away…literally. Not being able to breathe was the most glorious feeling in the world. My heart knocked against my rib cage so hard I was sure Griffin could feel it, too.
I never wanted to come up for air…ever. I nipped at his lip and a low groan fell from his mouth. Our lips moved together at a frenzied pace, and I wrapped my legs around his, pinning him closer to me…and yet, not close enough.
His hands roamed through my hair, down my sides, and rested where my tank top met the top of my sweat pants. Griffin’s hand slipped beneath the hem of my tank while he moved his lips to my neck.
Hands on my waist…hands on my skin…this was when I usually slammed on the brakes. I never wanted anyone to see the cracks…feel the scars. But Griffin’s hands felt different…like they belonged there. I knew I was safe in his hands. I would willingly give my broken heart, my fractured soul, and scarred body to him if he wanted it.
Chapter Twenty
Still wrapped in Griffin’s arms, I felt him brush my hair away from my face. “It’s about fucking time,” he whispered, smiling at me. “I could kiss you forever.”
“Promise?”
“Forever.” He kissed me again, proving the statement’s validity.
When our lungs forced us to come up for air, we snuggled closer together. I stared at him, trying to read the expression on his face. Over the years, I’d witnessed so many different emotions move over the planes of his features. But the expression he wore in this moment was new: devotion and happiness, and a hint of melancholy.
“What’s this?” I asked, touching the fine creases at the side of his eye.
“What do you mean?” he asked, running his fingers through my hair.
“You’re sad about something. I can see it right here.” My thumb tried to smooth the tiny lines.
“You know me so well,” he whispered.
I brushed a curl from his forehead and looked into his eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“Did you hear my song last night?” he asked.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“I wrote that for you.” He brushed his hand over my forehead, pushing my hair aside. “And you ran away.”
“Griff,” I said, running my fingers over his cheek and through his hair. I never wanted to stop touching him.
“No, Jillian, wait. I need to say this.” He sat up on the bed and crossed his legs in front of him. I did the same so we sat face to face. “I’ve waited a lifetime to say so much to you that I don’t know where to start. Last year when you kissed me, it scared the hell out of me. I freaked and pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do.” Nervously, he ran his hands through his hair. “When we were kids, you were my best friend. Because I was older, I felt like your protector. I loved that.” He reached across my lap and squeezed my hands tightly between his. “Do you remember when we got caught drawing fake tattoos on each other’s arms?”
“Mm-hmm,” I nodded, recollecting the memory. “My grandma wouldn’t let us near each other for a month. She thought you were a bad influence on me. Body art was definitely not her thing. What was I? Twelve?”
“And I was fifteen,” Griffin added. “Do you remember what I wanted you to draw on my arm?” he asked. I thought about that day.
A multi-hued pack of Sharpie pens lay scattered between us on the concrete. Griffin bent over my arm working methodically on the rainbow I wanted inked onto my wiry bicep. He’d tried talking me into something more meaningful, but I insisted on a rainbow.
By the time he’d finished with my “tattoo,” Grandma walked out onto the porch and nearly had a heart attack. She didn’t approve of the temporary marks I’d made to my body and she certainly didn’t like the fact that a teenage boy had his hands on me. Once he’d turned thirteen, her rules had changed. At the time I didn’t understand. He was just Griffin. Grandma knew something I hadn’t yet figured out.
“I don’t remember, Griff. By the time you finished with that rainbow on my arm, Grandma found us and started throwing an old lady tantrum.” Griffin’s eyes brightened and a burgeoning smile grew on his lips from thinking about my grandma and her tantrums. Seriously, they were legendary.
“I wanted you to write ‘Jillibean’.” His low, melodic voice whispered my name like a lullaby.
I felt terrible that I couldn’t remember something that obviously meant so much to him. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”
“I knew even back then how special you are, how much having you in my life meant.”
“How? We were so young.”
“I knew because when I asked you to ink your name onto me, I was prepared to defend you and protect you from anything. But every time I looked in your eyes I could see things I couldn’t protect you from. The way you blamed yourself for your parents’ death, the heartache you wore like a second skin. You’d put a wall up, and I was trapped on the outside. But I still wanted to save you from all that.” His eyes searched mine, hoping I understood.
I had built a wall. I’d built it around my heart; to protect it from all those damn voices.
Griffin continued, “There was no light in your eyes anymore. I told myself all the time that I’d be there for you, to hold your hand in the storm. I’d always be your friend. It was the best way I could think to protect you. I prayed that one day the storm would pass, and that light in your eyes would come back.”
“Griffin,” I breathed.
“Bean, please. I’m getting my chance now. Let me finish.”
I nodded for him to go on.
“In high school, you were in no shape to be in a relationship, and I knew that. And then you kissed me last year.” He paused, organizing his thoughts. “I got scared. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted it…god, I wanted it.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine, cradling my head in his palms. “But, I didn’t want to hurt you. You were doing so well, and finally getting your chance at a new life, doing what you wanted. That overwhelming urge to protect kicked in, and I pushed you away. I didn’t want to stand in your way, and I didn’t want to add any more stress to your life.”
“So what changed?” I asked. “Why is now okay?”
“Being without you fucking hurts,” he whispered, pulling away to hold my hands in his lap. “All these years, a day never passed that I didn’t get to see you. But man, these last few months, not seeing your face every day…It was like part of me was missing.”
I nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“I know it’s selfish, but I need you. I know you’re leaving for school again, and we’re going to be apart, but I can’t let you go back believing a lie. I love you so damn much, Jillian.” He brought his hand up to my face and lightly brushed his fingers over my cheek.
My breath caught in my throat, and my insides melted. A burning desire spread like wildfire through my core. I loved him, too.
Griffin reached for my arms, gently trailing his fingers toward my shoulders. The skimpy tank top I wore did nothing to hide the few scars below my collarbone. Once he reached my neck, his fingers trailed down, touching the top of a scar peeking out of the top of my tank. He lowered his head and placed a kiss on the barely visible scar. I let him.
While his finger continued to rub the raised line of skin, his eyes settled back onto mine. “Jillian, why did you run last night?”
It took me half a minute to register his words. My thoughts had moved elsewhere. “Uh…I was backstage watching you finish up. When you came off the stage…” I couldn’t meet his eyes while pictures of Erin drifted through my head. “Erin was there.”
“Seriousl
y?” His voice dropped. “She was just saying hi, and she wished me a Happy New Year.” He chuckled, gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He lifted his hand, forcing me to look at him. “She broke up with me, Jillian. She knew I was in love with you. She was the one that told me to get my head out of my ass and tell you how I felt.”
“Really?” I muttered. “Since I hadn’t seen you in a few days, I just thought…”
“Well.” He kissed my neck. “You.” And then my jaw. “Thought.” And my cheek. “Wrong.” Finally, he pressed his lips to mine and pushed me onto my back. “I will never get tired of doing this.” His voice rumbled in his chest and sent shivers through mine.
“Me neither.” I kissed him again.
We spent the next ten minutes allowing our lips and hands to explore the landscape of each other. My fingers didn’t waste any time traveling beneath Griffin’s t-shirt. By the time my hands moved to his shoulders, I pulled the t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He sealed his lips back onto mine and flipped us around, so I was straddled atop his gorgeous body.
I pulled my head away from his mouth to give his body the full attention it deserved. I’d seen Griffin without a shirt countless times, but now was so much better. Griffin’s sculpted torso was a beautiful work of art, and I fully intended to admire it whenever I had the opportunity.
My hands trailed over his shoulders and down his biceps. Griffin shivered beneath my hands, closing his eyes. “This feels fucking awesome,” he whispered.
His eyes remained closed while I traced every inked line of his skin. I loved his tattoos; they were indelibly him. The cursive script on his right bicep read: Always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes. Always perseveres. Never fails. I punctuated each statement with a kiss before I moved onto the rest of his canvas.
He’d adorned his chest with the image of his bass guitar, broken in half and bleeding. The drops of blood were titles of songs he’d written when he started Mine Shaft.
My fingers traced the tuning heads of the guitar, where his jeans met his waist. Occasionally, my fingers would slide just past his jeans, and I’d hear tiny gasps escape from Griffin’s mouth. Moving diagonally across his chest, I pressed lightly on each string, working my hand toward the body of the guitar. Griffin breathed heavier every time my lips touched his skin. When I’d worked my way to the point where the instrument ripped open, right over his heart, I placed a kiss on each lyrical droplet. I started with the largest at his navel, then worked my way up to his torso, savoring the taste of him on my lips. The last droplet hadn’t yet fallen from the guitar, still clinging to the fracture. My eyes drank in the tiny single word refusing to let go…Jillibean.
I kissed my name and looked for his eyes. “When?” I asked, sliding my body along the side of his. He shifted, so I could rest my head on his arm.
He turned his head to look at me. “When I got back from taking you to school. I told you, it felt like a part of me was missing. I had to do something.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?” His fingers trailed from my shoulder to my elbow. My senses were hyperaware of even the slightest touches.
“For never giving up on me. For always being there for me. For everything.”
“Ditto.” He smiled, pulling me closer.
I leaned in and tasted his lips with mine.
With our lips together, he spoke softly. “Kissing you makes me want to write a song.”
“Sing to me.”
And he did.
* * *
The last week flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Griffin and I spent every moment we could together, but his recording schedule was extremely demanding. Before I knew it, I only had one day of vacation left. If I was going to make it back to school by the time classes started on the thirteenth, I would need to leave tomorrow. That left Griffin and me with only today to take care of the shopping trip he’d promised. “I’m happy now,” I sang, practically skipping toward the door.
“See? I was just waiting until I had you with me.” Griffin held the door of the motorcycle shop open for me.
“You should have gotten one when you bought the damn bike.” I looked over my shoulder and gave him a baleful stare.
Griffin punched the key fob and unlocked the doors of my car. He stepped around me and threw open the backseat door, tossing his helmet onto the seat. A second later he slammed the door shut, grabbed me around the waist, and pinned me between him and the car. He didn’t waste a moment before he kissed me.
With firm lips he parted mine and slipped his tongue beyond the border of my mouth. A jolt of electricity jump-started my heart, making it beat faster.
I threw my arms around his neck and he leaned all of his weight onto me, snaking one arm around my waist and the other around my neck. Once again, I found it gloriously hard to breathe. The cold metal of the car at my back and the heat of our embrace ignited a fire inside me. I worked my hands to his hair, clutching fistfuls of dark strands as our tongues slid over each other. While our mouths played, our bodies begged to be closer.
Griffin’s hand slid down my thigh and wrapped around the back, then up, cupping my ass. He drew me closer and I cursed the jeans I wore. Why hadn’t I chosen a skirt?
Breathless, we both pulled away, resting our foreheads together.
“But then I wouldn’t have gotten to do that,” he breathed. “Thor was with me when I bought the bike. I don’t think he would have appreciated that.” He winked and pecked my lips one more time.
“I don’t know,” I drawled. “You’re really good at it.” Smirking, I ducked under his arm.
He pulled my door open, and just before I climbed in, smacked my backside. “Just good?” he asked, wounded.
I smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t want you to get a big head.” I sat down and he closed my door, shaking his head.
Walking around to the driver’s side, Griffin pulled open the door and got in. “Then I’m just going to have to practice more.” He stared at me while starting the car.
“It’s about time, Daniels.” I was enjoying our playful spontaneity.
“Hey, isn’t that the name of a song?” he asked, looking over his shoulder while he backed out of the parking space.
“There’s a song?” I asked, playing dumb.
“I think so.” He put the car in drive, and we were off. “From what I hear, it’s fucking brilliant.” He shrugged.
“Brilliant, huh?”
“A real chart topper,” he answered confidently.
“I’ll be sure to download that one,” I said, smiling. “Or, I could just ask the artist to give me a private concert.”
He turned his head and smiled sinfully. “Any time, Bean,” he crooned.
On the drive back to Griffin’s apartment, our conversation flowed easily from one topic to the next. Griffin was curious about my Spring Showcase project, and I happily filled him in on my progress.
He reached across the seat and took my hand in his, kissing my knuckles. “I am so proud of you, Bean.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him. He laced his fingers through mine and dropped our entwined hands onto my lap. “If it hadn’t been for your visit at Thanksgiving, I don’t think I would have come up with anything good enough to present.”
“I know that’s not true,” he scoffed. “I didn’t do shit. Whatever you came up with was all you.”
I made sure he saw me roll my eyes right before he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Griffin led the way to his door as we trudged through the ankle-deep snow. Unlocking the door, he kicked it open and let me pass before he stepped in from the cold.
“Hey, dude,” Thor said, staring at the enormous flat screen TV. He was lying on the black leather sofa wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
“Shit, man. Go put some fucking clothes on,” Griffin said, stepping around me.
Thor looked away from the TV and noticed that Griffin wasn’t alone. “Jill, hey,” he
said, standing up.
“Hi, Thor.” I waved, trying not to stare. It was difficult; his body was amazing. Not as amazing as Griffin’s, but beautiful nonetheless. All the guys in Mine Shaft looked fabulous. Couple awesome music with hot guys, and the record label had a recipe for making money hand over fist.
Griffin shrugged his leather jacket off and flipped it onto the couch, and I did the same with mine.
Thor scratched his head, running his palm over his short, buzzed hair. “You finally talk him into getting a brain bucket, Jill?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied soundly, giving Griffin a stern look.
“You going out tonight, man?” Griffin asked.
Thor walked around the coffee table, toward the hall, on his way to the kitchen. “Yeah,” he said, calling over his shoulder. “Got a date.”
Griffin held his hand out to me and I walked over to him. We followed Thor into the kitchen. “You want anything to drink, Bean?” Griffin asked.
“No thanks.”
Griffin walked over and stood next to Thor at the fridge. “Pass me a beer, will you?”
Thor shuffled things around and pulled out a bottle, holding it up for Griffin. “Thanks, man,” Griffin said. “Are you coming back tonight?”
Thor clinked together some other items in the fridge, settling on a beer. He closed the door and leaned back on it, twisting off the cap. “Depends,” he said, taking a drink. “Harper’s different than most girls I’ve dated,” he said.
“What?” I teased. “The infamous Thor is taking it slow with a lady?”
He shrugged and took another drink. But there was a look on his face, and I knew he’d brought the beer to his mouth to hide a growing smile.
Griffin chimed in and said, “I don’t know, Thor. There has been a change in you since you’ve started dating her.” He punched Thor’s arm playfully.
“If she can tame ‘The Hammer,’ she must be pretty special,” I said.
“She does have a point, dude,” Griffin added. “When do we get to meet this chick?”
