Page 90 of How He Got the Girl
I’monajet.
Scratch that.
I’m on aprivatejet.
The kind where we’re the only people on it except the flight attendant, a bodyguard, and pilots. The kind where everyone keeps referring to me as “Ms. Porter.” I don’t think I could ever get used to anyone besides my students calling me that.
Griffin sleepily readjusts in the luxury recliner across from me. There’s a small circle of drool on his shirt where his mouth meets his shoulder, and I can’t help but find it adorable. He looked perfect when I woke up next to him on his couch after our movie marathon, so it makes me feel better knowing that even celebrities drool in their sleep. That’s a win for normal people everywhere. A way of knowing we’re not alone in our plebeian ways.
He looks incredibly handsome in his white button-down and khakis. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, and let me just say, even drool can’t take away from his attractiveness.
I feel completely underdressed in my matching pink sweat set. But Griffin said I lookedadorable when he picked me up, and I’ve learned he’s the type of guy who only says what he means.
“Ms. Porter?” The stewardess stops beside us. “We’ll arrive in Los Angeles in about thirty minutes.”
“Thank you.” At the thought of landing, my eyes go wide. Will paparazzi be there to greet us? There’s not much I can do about my outfit, but I can at least let my hair down and freshen up my curls before we land.
My hair is currently up in a pineapple—not the actual fruit, but a pineapple bun where all my curls are piled on top of my head and secured with the perfect scrunchie. I usually only wear it like this at night to protect my hair, not to be seen getting off a private jet with my movie star boyfriend.
I let out a dreamy sigh at the thought of Griffin. I can hardly believe that he’s my boyfriend, and not the fake kind. My feelings for him have been confusing to put it simply. From our explosive chemistry the first time we met to waiting weeks for a call that never came, to seeing his interview and thinking I meant nothing to him. Then running into him again three years later and reliving our first meeting. From fake dating to real feelings to real dating.
Our relationship is tough to describe, and we still have things to figure out if we want a future together. But to end up right here in the arms of a handsome man who truly sees me and values me for who I am, well, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I stand, careful not to wake Griffin, and make my way to the bathroom. My jaw drops when I open the door and see how much larger it is than the ones on the planes I usually fly on—no expert maneuvering to touch the toilet as little as possible is required.
I gently pull out my favorite scrunchie and fluff my hair. A few sections of it look wonky, so I wet them and do my best to finger-curl them back into place. When I emerge from the bathroom, Griffin’s gaze is locked on me as I walk back to my seat. I feel like I’m dressed for the red carpet already with the heated way he’s staring at me.
“Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?” He stands and kisses me, soft and tender. “And your pink outfits.” His lips hover near mine, teasing me, making me wantmore. “Really, it’s just you.”
“That youlove?” I pull back, raising a brow. The blush that covers his cheeks feels like a first-place trophy—I’m the winner of our teasing game.
Griffin stutters. “I— Uh— That’s not what I meant to say. I just meant that I like everything about you.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“I’m messing with you.” I nudge him with my elbow. “I like you too, Mr. Razzle-Dazzle.”
He groans. “We’re still not past that?”
“Never.” I grin. “It helps me fall asleep every night.”
Griffin squeezes my side, and I can’t help but squeal. I try to wiggle away from him, but he grabs my hips and pulls us both onto his leather recliner. I end up on his lap, facing him.
“At least I know my voice is soothing, if it lulls you into a deep slumber.” His stubble grazes my face as he moves his lips close to my ear. “Maybe I need to film a different commercial that won’t make you fall asleep.”
“I can think ofotherways you could keep me awake.” I press my lips to the corner of his mouth, taunting him with the thought of more.
His cheeks tinge pink, giving me another win. He shakes his head. “I thought I knew who you were, but I think I underestimated you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I flutter my lashes, playing coy.
Griffin’s lips pull up into his signature grin—the one for me. “Oh, I think you knowexactlywhat you’re doing to me, Mallory Porter.” He readjusts my body so I’m facing away from him, then wraps his seatbelt around both our laps before clicking it into place. Griffin takes my hands, intertwining our fingers and resting them in my lap as the plane descends.
I know I should probably move back to my own seat, but for once, I’m exactly where I want to be.
I’ve now learned that a perk of arriving somewhere in a private jet means a private runway, which also means no paparazzi. I planned on changing into something nicer before dress shopping, but Griffin’s driver pulls to a stop in an alleyway.
I look around, spotting a few doors but no signage. “Um, where are we?”
“The fancy gown store I rented out for the morning.” Griffin turns to face me. “I’ve already arranged everything with the owners. Pick whatever you want. Nothing is too much. Get yourself some heels and accessories while you’re at it.”
