Page 95 of Lessons in Heartbreak

I joined him at the table, using a damp paper towel to pick up the glitter. My arm brushed his, but instead of lingering, I moved away again. “The kids who teased me about being a boring little bookworm—I saw them struggle in class. Saw them fight with exhausted teachers, when all they really wanted was respect.” His eyes were fixed on mine when I glanced up, the space between us thick with tension. “I think they wanted to be a little bit more like me without having to give up the good parts of being themselves.” I dumped the glitter-covered paper towel and turned in his direction. “Just like I gave you a hard time about being a player. Someone who made women line up to do a song and dance.”

Griffin’s movements slowed. “You wanted to be a little bit like that,” he said.

After a slight hesitation, I nodded. “I was jealous of how easy it was for you.”

His brow furrowed. “My brother isn’t jealous of me.”

“Isn’t he?” I shrugged. “Look at the lengths his kids went to just to spend a single evening with you. He probably doesn’t know how to be more like you any more than you know how to be like him.”

It was like watching a wall lock into place behind his eyes. “I don’t want to be like Barrett. He’s cold and hard and impossible to soften.”

“And he’s respected,” I said quietly. “Admired. Taken seriously.”

The hard muscle in Griffin’s jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth.

I dropped my eyes, stomach fluttering nervously at the change in subject. Anytime we’d tiptoed into the harder things, they were always mine. But seeing him yesterday, facing off with his brother, I saw something in Griffin’s face that was entirely foreign.

Intimidation. The thought of this larger-than-life man being intimidated by anyone was impossible to reconcile, but it was there all the same.

Only until his brother requested that I leave the room; then there was a pulse of anger, of possession—like the release of a flash-bang into the enclosed space, momentarily disorienting me with the painful brightness and the staggering echo. It was the mention of me that brought Griffin back into himself, with the straightening of the shoulders and the puffing of his chest.

Not for the first time since we’d started whatever this was, I desperately wanted to pry back the layers of this man. If he’d let me, of course.

It seemed at every turn, this thing with Griffin was destined to challenge me. Force moments of bravery where before I might have hidden from the hard—allowing the thoughts of what could go wrong to dissuade me from acting.

I walked closer to him and pulled my phone from my back pocket, clicking on a link that I’d saved, and turned the screen around so he could see it. Confusion bent his brow as he carefully took the phone from my hand to bring it closer to his face. His mouth went slack with shock.

“What is this?”

I sucked in a breath, letting my shoulders rise and fall in a helpless shrug. “Figured you could let someone else push the rock up the hill for a little bit.”

His eyes were fierce and bright when he tore them from the phone screen, locking onto mine for a breathless moment. “How did they get these pictures?”

I gently eased the phone out of his grasp and smiled at the headline of the article. Griffin curled his hands around my hips and stood behind me, resting his chin on the top of my head while I scrolled through the article, stopping at a picture of Griffin crouching in front of the dunk tank. In this one, he was surrounded by a group of first graders from the elementary school. His shirt was soaked from a recent trip into the tank, his smile wide and happy as the kids held up his number on their hands.

Underneath that one was a shot I’d snapped while he took a selfie with a tiny elderly woman who lived down the street from me. Her wrinkled hand cupped his face while she grinned, and the picture caught Griffin midlaugh.

The article talked about his appearance in a small town north of Denver, where he’d been spotted helping with various fundraising efforts for the local library. The last line made my eyes gloss over, and I carefully highlighted it, making sure he took the time to read it.

Denver may have signed the younger King for much-needed power on the D-line, but from the looks of things, his superhero presence is being felt in far greater places than on the football field, making this one of the best roster moves we’ve seen in a while. Welcome to Colorado, Griffin. We hope you stay for a long time.

“It was you,” he murmured. After I managed a short nod, throat tight and my eyes still filled with helpless tears, Griffin wrapped hisarms around my waist and ducked his nose into my hair for a long inhale. “I think you’re too good for me, birdy.”

Slowly, I turned in his arms and cradled his jaw with my hand. “Says who?” His brow pinched briefly, but I laid my finger over his lips before he could answer. “I see you, Griffin. Not what people say about you or what you used to be. I seeyou, and I have never respected anyone in my life more.”

His eyes held mine, and the thick line of his throat worked on a swallow. “I see you, too, Ruby Tate.”

A soft, warm feeling spread through my chest—something good and wonderful and undeniably bittersweet. Was that the thing I’d been missing all this time? Not the sex or the affection or sharp snap of desire. It was that. Being known by someone intimately and trusting that they liked what they saw enough to stay. That was it, wasn’t it?

Fear came in right on the heels of allowing myself to ask that question. Fear of losing it. Fear of losing him, even though I’d been the one to set the rules that kept us safe.

Don’t fall in love with me,I’d told him. And there I stood, perilously close to doing exactly that.

“I know you do,” I whispered.

There was more to be said, and admissions danced on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them down. Griffin rested his forehead on mine and breathed out, curling an arm around my shoulders as I tightened my grip on his shirt.

“Do I get a kiss for my birthday?” he asked, voice a pleased, deep grumble. His nose nudged mine, and with that simple question, the mood lightened in a heartbeat.

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