Once again, I was on my own – really, truly alone.
My relationship with Griff – if you could even call it that – was spiraling faster than a truck in a tornado.
And yet, you'd never know it, looking at his face. In spite of my deliberate rudeness, he didn't look angry. Mostly, he looked concerned, like I was sporting one heck of a head-wound and didn't even know it.
In a surprisingly tender voice, he said, "Babe? Everything okay?"
Nowthatwas funny. It was the same thing he'd said back in the beginning, the very first time he'd pretended to be my boyfriend. Back then, I'd thought the show was for Devon and Sierra.
Now I knew better. His whole performance – the sweet gestures, the charm, the slow-burn looks – none of it had been real.
All along, the show had been for me – and not in the way I'd hoped.
I tried to laugh, but it came out all wrong, somewhere between a gasp and a sob.
From the open doorway, Griff moved forward as if to gather me in his arms. I scrambled back, only to realize I'd run out of landing. Almost before I knew it, the ground was gone beneath my feet.
The only thing that stopped me from tumbling backward down those rickety stairs was Griff's strong arms, pulling me back to safety.
His chest was bare, and his skin was warm. The towel had fallen to God knows where, leaving him naked, holding me tight against him while I tried not to cry.
He ignored the loss of his towel, like it didn't even matter, which somehow made everything worse.
With nothing except my own clothes between us, it would've been oh-so easy to forget what I'd just learned. And heaven help me, part of mewantedto forget, to live out the next nine days in blissful oblivion until Griff returned to his regular life – a life that was so far out of my reach, it might as well be on the moon.
But that wasn't me. I had never been good at pretending, and even if I were, there were some things evenIcouldn't ignore.
And yet, idiot that I was, I was still hanging on like he was the only lifeline in a storm. For a long moment, I just stood there, soaking up the feel of him, like a blissful dreamer refusing to wake up.
But this was no dream.
It was a nightmare.
Because even now, I wanted him – or rather I wanted the guy I'd thought he was. There was only one problem.
That guy?
He didn't exist.
With a little groan, I pushed him away. Desperately, I scanned the grubby floorboards and spotted the wayward towel near my feet. I scooped it up and tossed it vaguely in his direction before saying, "We need to talk."
68
Four Little Words
Griff
I caught the towel with one hand and wrapped it around my waist as Maisie's announcement hit home.We need to talk.
The words landed like a punch to the gut.
Nobody with a brain likes hearingthat.
And me? I was no idiot.
I'd known something was wrong the moment I had opened the door. Actually, scratch that. I'd known from the pounding.
Not knocking.Pounding.