Page 83 of Mess With Me

Griffin’s family cheers. At least, half of them do. Griffin’s dad gives Eli a whack upside the head, and Cassandra rolls her eyes, but everyone joins in, smiling as they raise their glasses to us.

Even Griffin, though it’s hardly more than a curl of lips.

We’re in the backyard at Griffin’s dad’s place, a cute little house on the outskirts of Quince Valley with a big yard that backs up to the forest. The first stars are starting to come out. We’ve been here all evening, when Griff’s dad—John—invited us back to his place after we signed all the paperwork at the town hall. After dinner, Reese played a song for us on her acoustic guitar, followed by a few new songs she’s been working on that no one’s ever heard before.

“I think I’m going to faint,” I whispered to Griffin, who just squeezed my hand and kissed my temple.

It was for show, I know, but I sighed anyway, leaning against his shoulder.

Then Reese came over, and we had this amazing conversation about our favorite restaurants in the West Village, and she told me about how she used to manage the restaurant at the Rolling Hills before hitting it big.

It was amazing.

I’ve met celebrities before. It’s exciting, but they’re just people.

What I haven’t done before is get married.

I still can’t believe we actually went through with this. Yet from the moment I woke up this morning, I knew it was the right thing to do. I was practically walking on sunshine all day, and even though I kept reminding myself during the ceremony that it wasn’t real, damn if it didn’t feel like the realest thing ever.

As Griffin’s dad tells several of us a sweet but slightly long-winded story about hiking a trail in Spain last year, I sneak a look down at my ring for the hundredth time tonight. It’s beautiful. Handcrafted. There’s no way Griffin just picked it up from the store. I steal a glance at him on the other side of the grass now, where he’s standing with his legs wide, arms folded, listening to something Eli’s saying.

As if he feels my eyes on him, he looks over, his gaze locking on mine.

I’m not sure when the switch flipped. Was it back in the city on the way here? Or on his porch with Chester? Maybe at the swimming hole? Whenever it was, he doesn’t look like he used to. He’s not the overbearing, grumpy man from that day at the movie theatre, and he doesn’t look at me like I’m the flighty pain in the ass I was that day.

Well, maybe he still thinks I’m a pain in the ass.

But each time our eyes have met tonight, it’s sent shivers all over me, just like it’s doing now. It’s been happening all night. I’ll look over at him, and he gives this small frown, like he’s checking to see if I’m okay. But sometimes he’s already watching me. Then, cue the butterflies.

“What do you think the expiration date is on pepperoni?” Cap asks, and I realize everyone else has wandered away. It’s just me and Cap. Did Jude come over to grab his dad to look for something? Between everyone wanting to talk to me and obsessively looking at my ring finger and Griffin, the whole night has been a happy blur.

I give my head a shake. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Pepperoni. Do you think it goes bad fast?”

“I don’t think the amount you eat affects the expiration date.” Cap’s already eaten the better part of a whole pie by himself.

“I’m just seeing if there’s enough to last me until the end of the month if I ate it every day for lunch.”

“Kids are weird,” Eli warns me as he passes with an armful of wood for the fire.

Cap grins. “You’re weirder, Uncle Eli.”

Eli sticks his tongue out at his nephew.

“You really love pizza, huh?” I ask.

“Love isn’t a big enough word. It’s my favorite food in the whole world.”

I smile. I love the way Cap chats with me like we’re friends. We did kind of bond when he visited London with Jude last year.

“Hey, thanks for coming on your first day of school.”

Cap shrugs. “It was fun playing football with Uncle Griffin.”

The two of them tossed the ball back and forth in the yard when we first got here.

“I still can’t believe you tackled him like that.”

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