Page 107 of How He Got the Girl
When I walk into my room and flick the light switch, I look around with wide eyes. A warm vanilla-and-lavender-scented candle is burning, and there’s a bouquet of vibrant pink blooms on my nightstand next to a large Dr. Pepper from McDonald’s. My pink suitcase is lying open on top of my bed, already half-filled with clothes. Every little detail is a reminder of how well my girls know me and how lucky I am to have them as my best friends.
I turn around to find Shayna, Kelsey, and Alyssa wearing matching smiles.
“When did y’all do all this?” I ask.
“We divided and conquered while you were saying goodbye to Griffin,” Kelsey says.
Alyssa points to my laptop bag. “There’s a draft email in your notes on your computer for your principal, too.”
They spill into my room, pulling me into a group hug. I squeeze them tight. I’m not sure I’ve ever loved them more than I do at this moment. My girls. My family. They have been there for me through thick and thin, and I don’t want to think about what life would look like without them.
Speaking of, there’s also a certain man I can’t imagine my life without, and I can’t wait to see his face when I show up with my luggage tomorrow.
“Come on.” I grit my teeth and press my foot harder on the gas pedal as I tap the call button on my car dashboard screen again. “Pick up.”
The call to Griffin goes straight to voicemail. I huff as I press the end button on my steering wheel.
I didn’t account for rush-hour traffic when I set my alarm this morning. And I definitely didn’t account for construction flaggers on the side road I tried to take as a shortcut. It seems like the whole world is against me this morning, trying to ruin my grand gesture, but I refuse to let it. I’m going to make that plane.
A quick look at the clock says I might be too late. 7:58. He’s probably boarding the jet, if not already in the air.
I press my foot down harder, going well over the speed limit as I get closer to the private airstrip. If I get pulled over, hopefully the police officer will be understanding of chasing down true love. Maybe they’d even give me a police escort.
The stoplight I’m approaching turns red, and I hit the brakes.
“Shoot,” I hiss and tap my fingers against the steering wheel. “Come on. Come on.”
The second the light turns green, I hit the gas, speeding ahead. When the airstrip comes into view, I see a plane on the runway and my heart skips a beat. I wish with everything in me for it to be Griffin’s.
When I pull up to the gate, a man working the booth looks at me as I roll down my window. “Name?”
“Mallory Porter.”
His neutral expression flickers with something like surprise. “Can I see your ID?”
I glance at the plane, relieved to see it’s still there, before reaching over to the passenger seat and grabbing my wallet from my purse. My hand trembles as I pull out my driver’s license and hand it over.
He glances at it, then at me, before handing it back with a nod. The gate opens, and I fling my ID and wallet onto mypassenger seat before speeding onto the tarmac. I’m almost to the jet when I see a figure move onto the plane’s airstairs.
A smile tilts my lips when I realize it’s Griffin. The kind of smile that hurts my cheeks, but I don’t care because I’m so happy.
I pull the car to a stop, hop out, and run toward him. As I approach the airstairs, he shouts three words: “Say ‘don’t go.’”
I stop at the bottom of the stairs, staring at Griffin. “This is supposed to bemygrand gesture moment,” I huff.
But here he is, beggingmeto tell him not to go.
Griffin jogs down the steps to me. “You came.” His voice is husky and riddled with emotion.
“I couldn’t let you leave, not without me.”
Griffin takes a step closer, taking my hands in his. His eyes are alight with hope. “You’re coming with me?”
I nod. “But I have a question for you first.”
“Anything, beautiful.”
“Were you trying to make me admit that I love you by shouting Taylor Swift song lyrics at me?”
