Page 94 of You and Me, For Real
I turn around to blow my nose and dispose of the tissue.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“What do you say we get out of here?”
“I’d like that very much.”
“I was thinking somewhere with just the two of us. You okay with that?”
“Absolutely.”
He clasps my hand in his, lifts it to his lips, and kisses it.
He doesn’t question my dramatics, doesn’t need to know the details. He just accepts me as I am. When he opens the door, I grasp his hand, knowing I’d follow him anywhere.
26
ASHTON
Iwas expecting his house, so I’m surprised when he pulls up to a deserted parking lot at the beach.
Griffin jogs around the front of the car and opens the passenger door for me. I barely have enough time to finish unbuckling my seatbelt before he slips his hands under my thighs and lifts me from the car.
“What are you doing?” I shriek.
“It’s dark. We’re walking on uneven sand. The last thing I want is for you to sprain your other ankle. Now, let me be a gentleman.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
With the moon full, the late evening air chilly, and a light breeze off the ocean, I’m grateful to be carried. I absorb his body heat, nuzzling closer, inhaling his soft cedar scent. Griffin’s steps are steady and sure, like he’s traveled this path at night hundreds of times.
“Have you been here before?”
“Yeah. Sometimes after a long day of filming, I come here at night.” He chuckles a bitter laugh. “You’d think after shooting onthe beach day after day, I’d get tired of being out here, but there’s just something about the peace the ocean gives me.”
I shift, wrapping my arm tighter around his neck.
“This is where I like to clear my head. I thought maybe you’d like it too.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, squeezing his bicep.
He stops walking and places me gently on the sand. He sweeps off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders before settling next to me.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes. Thank you for this.” I adjust his jacket.
We sit in the quiet, watching the waves crash against the rocky shore. The moon’s reflection plays on the surface of the ocean, warping into different shapes.
Griffin clears his throat. “So…are you okay? I mean, back there—” He lifts his shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to…”
I adjust my legs, pulling them tighter, guarding myself.
“You had me worried back there.”
I pull the jacket tighter, clutching it at my middle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I swallow, not sure how to explain my overreaction to seeing my mom. I feel silly about it now.
