Page 66 of Lessons in Heartbreak

“I have a shirt in my car,” Griffin said. “It’ll be huge, but it’s yours if you want it.”

I gave him a distracted nod. “That would be great. I have the keys to the school; I can change in the bathrooms.”

Griffin told the crowd he’d be back in about five minutes, and Marcus led the line in some earsplitting, good-natured jeers, proclaiming that no one could dunk him while Griffin chickened out for a few minutes. Griffin darted forward, slapping the button, and Marcus fell into the tank while the crowd cheered.

We were both laughing, his arm warm where my shoulder brushed against it as we walked.

I kept my arms crossed over my chest, staying behind the booths and games so that we could remain out of sight—him so that wedidn’t get stopped, me because I wasn’t trying to win any wet T-shirt competitions. Since the sun had gone down, there was a chill in the air I hadn’t felt all day, and I shivered. Griffin laid a hand on my back, and the warmth of his palm had my eyes falling closed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, jogging off toward the parking lot.

After I wrestled with the key, the door to the high school opened with a creak, and I waited just inside, leaning against a cinder block wall until Griffin approached with some dry clothes in hand. I fixed a smile on my face and pushed open the door for him.

“Thank you,” I said. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking around like this.”

He handed me the shirt, lifting his chin in a nod. “Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

My hands tightened around the soft cotton, and it served as an effective visual shield to my see-through shirt. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Not gonna leave you alone in here, Ruby.”

I sighed quietly, slightly relieved by that. “Okay.”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Just around the corner.” I swallowed tightly, the absolute stillness in the big, empty building reminding me of us being together in my office. Maybe me and Griffin and empty buildings should be avoided at all costs, because there was something sinful about it, the warm pulse of temptation filling in the space between each breath.

He walked a few steps with me, and I kept his T-shirt pressed against my chest, lest he get an eyeful of nipple. It was distracting enough seeing his.

Instead of going all the way into the bathroom, I simply walked around the corner of the cinder block wall until I was out of sight, peeling my wet shirt off and tossing it onto the ground, where it hit with an audible slap. The sound was loud enough that I winced, because immediately following was a sharp inhale from Griffin.

It was all so unbearably and unintentionally sexy.

I was holding the shirt so tightly that my fists trembled. Even though my bra was damp, too, the warmth from his shirt—probably from sitting in a hot car—was practically narcotic. It smelled like him too.

Instead of quashing anything, I sucked in a deep, fortifying breath and let the flutters go wherever they wanted.

“I wish I was the type of person who knew how to take advantage of these moments,” I said, the words out before I could stop them. In truth, I didn’t want to stop them.

I didn’t want to stop whatever this feeling was, because it was powerful, sleek and strong and addicting.

“What moments?” he asked, voice just around the corner from where I stood.

With my eyes pinched shut and my forehead pressed against the cool cinder block, I let out a shaky exhale. “Moments of opportunity. I’ve never really known what to do with them. And this is ... this is one of them, isn’t it?”

“God, Ruby,” he groaned. “It is.”

The sound of his voice, rough and desperate and so very, very close, made me tremble all over.

Everything was getting jumbled in my head—what we were doing, what we shouldn’t be doing, and what I wanted to do. None of it was clear anymore, and somehow, in all that confusion, the only thing that seemed straightforward was that I wanted him.

“Griffin,” I whispered, not even sure if he could hear me.

“Look at you,” he whispered.

I froze, head snapping up as he caged me in completely. The heat of him—tall and broad and impossibly warm—swamped my entire frame, even though he wasn’t actually touching me yet.

Yet.

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