Page 105 of How He Got the Girl
“My muse.” I kiss her cheek. “My girlfriend.” I move my lips to her forehead. “My favorite person.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “My beautiful girl.” I lower my head, dragging my lips along the hollow of her neck.
Mallory huffs impatiently, grabbing my stubbled cheeks. My laugh is swallowed by her mouth covering mine. Our lips move together in a flurry of passion, every tug and graze filled with the words we’re unable to say—thesee you laterwe don’t want to speak aloud.
There’s no feeling that compares to this. This connection is greater than anything I ever dreamed of experiencing in my lifetime. Better than any screenwriter could come up with. It’s the kind that comes from knowing each other deeply, growing together through trials, and coming out stronger on the other side.
I tug her closer and deepen the kiss. My fingers graze the soft skin of her back, under her sweater. She sighs against my lips and moves her hands to my hair, tugging at the strands. I tilt my head back, craving her touch.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Mallory kisses the soft spot under my ear. “How do you always taste like cinnamon?”
I wasn’t even sure she noticed before, but now that I know the truth won’t scare her away, I say, “I started chewing cinnamon gum after I met you, since you loved the snickerdoodle hot chocolate so much.”
She scans my eyes. “Why?”
I kiss her lips, slow and flirtatiously. “So that I would taste like your favorite flavor if I ever found you again.”
“That’s the most thoughtful”—Mallory leans in and grazes my lips with hers—“and hot thing I’ve ever heard.”
I lower my mouth to hers again, and we continue to kiss and talk until the sun starts setting.
“Are you all packed and ready to go?” Mallory plays with the hair at the nape of my neck.
The truth is that I’m not ready for any of this. But is anyone ever prepared to find their person and leave them for the second time? There’s no amount of preparation that will make me feel ready to leave Louisville. To leave Mallory. But I have to.
“For the most part.” I sigh, glancing at the time on my phone. “I should probably get home and finish packing since I have an early morning.”
“What time does your flight leave again?”
“Eight.”
Mallory pushes up from the couch and extends her hands to me, helping me up. “At least you don’t have to be there too early since you’re leaving from that private airstrip.”
I walk with her to the front door. She stops and turns to face me. Tears brim in her eyes, and I hate that I’m the cause of them. I open my arms and she falls into them, her head fitting perfectly under my chin.
“I’m only a phone call away,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “And we’ll figure out a schedule for visits and video calls as soon as I know what my schedule looks like.”
“I know.” Rising onto her tiptoes, Mallory presses her lips to mine. “I’ll be here cheering you on.”
After squeezing her tight one more time, I offer her as encouraging a smile as I can muster. “I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
She nods and opens the door for me, leaning against it like it’s the only thing holding her up. “Bye, Griff.”
I move past her into the cold and walk to the waiting car. With my hand on the door handle, I look back, and my heart tugs in my chest when I see Mallory still standing there, watching me leave. I wave and blow her a kiss. Shereaches her hand into the air like she’s catching it before holding it close to her chest.
If I don’t leave right now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. I open the door and slide into the backseat, feeling a heavy weight in my chest. Not just because I’m leaving Louisville. No, I’m leaving my heart behind with it.
AsIwatchGriffindrive off into the distance, a piece of me goes with him.
I take a shaky breath and head inside, locking the front door before moving to the couch. My friends walk out of the kitchen with a platter of bonuts like they knew I’d need them and some sugar therapy tonight. I’m not sure if cinnamon-sugar biscuit donuts will help my heavy heart, but they certainly won’t hurt.
Shayna sits beside me and rubs soothing circles on my back, reminding me of the way my mom used to help me fall asleep when I was younger. With a gentle voice, she asks, “How are you holding up, Mal?”
“It feels like my heart is breaking.” I take the tissue Kelsey extends to me and dab under my eyes.
Shayna gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Sometimes things need to break in order to shine.”
“Like what?”
“Glowsticks, for one.” She pauses. “Oh, and that thing where they take broken pottery and repair it with gold.”
