Page 12 of Lessons in Heartbreak

“I love what I do,” he said. “Always lining up against different people. I love the challenge of trying to figure them out. Keeps me incredibly fit. Every day is a little different.” He paused, eyes raking over my face while his lips curled into a sinful smile that I felt down to my toes. “Though my body is completely wrecked by the time I’ve put in a lot of hours.”

Attempting to swallow was pointless because my throat felt like it was packed with sand.

“Wr-wrecked?” I whispered. Looking for an outlet for my useless surge of energy, I plucked mindlessly at the button at the base of my throat. The thought of Griffin wrecking things—with his body or otherwise—made me feel a little fuzzy in the general area of my brain. “I didn’t think ... I wasn’t aware that those lines got crossed. Unless you’re ... unless you ...”

That smile deepened as my voice gave out. He hummed, low in his throat. “Oh, I cross a lot of lines, Ruby.” His big, blunt fingers pulledoff another piece of muffin, and he popped it into his mouth while his eyes stayed firmly on mine. The line of his jaw worked while he chewed, and I found myself watching the play of muscles underneath the stubble. “Tell me more about why you’re here, little birdy. Isn’t that what we used to call you?”

I huffed a laugh. “You came up with it. I hated that nickname.”

Griffin smiled widely, a flash of white teeth and the dimple making my pulse skitter dangerously.

“Because you were always up in that tree, with your big eyes, reading your books all quiet and sweet.” He licked at his bottom lip. How was it that that tiny flash of tongue and the lingering eye contact could make my skin so abnormally hot? God, he was good at this. No wonder he cost a fortune. “Tell me why you’re here. I want to know quite badly.”

My forehead furrowed briefly. “Well ... I had to fill out the intake form, and it was quite thorough—”

“Griffin King?”

Griffin looked over at the guy who’d spoken, but his eyes darted back to mine, holding steadily. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Oh gawd, was he afamousescort?

Kill me. Just ... kill me now.

“Oh, wow, do you mind if I grab a picture? You’re a legend, man. I saw you play in New York twice last year. Absolute beast on the field. I’ll be devastated when you retire.”

My head reared back, skin prickling as I caught the guilty expression flash over Griffin’s face. With my mouth hanging open, my heart racing, I let out a strangled sound.

“Wait, are you Ruby?” At the question, I blinked up—and up—at another tall, good-looking man. Wearing a black shirt. With a black-and-wood watch. He was no longer staring at my tablemate with bright, interested eyes, because his attention had shifted to me. “I’m sorry I’m late; it took me longer to get here than I thought.”

“I—” It was hard to talk over the roaring of my pulse. Griffin rolled his lips together, a pleading expression filling his golden eyes. “You’re not ... you’re—” My voice broke off, pathetically quiet, and my heart hammered so hard that I felt like my ribs might break.

“Ruby and I knew each other as kids,” Griffin said, briefly breaking the chest-crushing eye contact to give our newest arrival a friendly smile. “I couldn’t help but stop and say hi when I saw her.”

Maybe the earth didn’t swallow me whole, but how desperately I wanted it to.Embarrassmentwasn’t a strong enough word for what I felt.

This word looked like standing naked on a stage, the bright, hot lights aimed right at me, all the seats filled with clown-like smiles and the kind of nasty laughter that embedded itself in your ears.

The two men stared back at me—one justifiably confused, one looking very apologetic, and quite irrationally, I felt the urge to punch the latter of the two. Hard. I’d never wanted to punch anyone in my entire unremarkable life, but I was ready to break that streak for Griffin Freaking King.

Except I’d probably break my hand on his stupid face.

A mortifying crawl of tears made my nose burn and my throat agonizingly tight.

Griffin assessed the new arrival with a sharp eye. “Thought prostitution was illegal in Colorado.”

“That’s why I’m a licensed escort,” the other said smoothly. “When I’m outside of Las Vegas, at least.” Then he winked at me, and my stomach bottomed out.

Griffin eased out of his chair, unfolding his body to his staggering height. Holy hell, he had to be six five. He was an entire foot taller than me.

The other gentleman cleared his throat. Maybe the height difference was getting to him too.

Somehow that made it even worse. A metaphorical pissing match between two strangers.

What was I thinking?

I’d never be able to get over this debilitating anxiety when it came to men. Because of crap like this—when they sat at tables they weren’t supposed to sit at, when they showed up in towns they weren’t supposed to be in, and when they looked like he looked: criminally, heartbreakingly good.

I stood from the table so fast that my chair clattered backward. “I’m sorry, I—” My eyes pinched shut, and I started clawing at the high neck of my shirt. “I have to go.”

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