Page 20 of How He Got the Girl
My heart races as I move my gaze to his face, but all words are stuck in my throat as my eyes collide with none other than Griffin Reynolds.
His mouth falls open as he stares at me. “Mallory?” He whispers my name with a mixture of disbelief and excitement.
I scramble to stand on my own two feet again. When he notices, Griffin effortlessly rights me. Unfortunately, he’s close.Tooclose.
One of my hands is still wrapped around his neck while the other falls to his chest. It reminds me of the moment before our first kiss, with the snow falling around us. I can smell the cinnamon scent of his gum, taking me back to how our first kiss tasted from my snickerdoodle hot chocolate. My stomach churns, and I grit my teeth, pushing all thoughts of my past with him away.
I try to step away, but his arm holds me against him like an immovable tree trunk. “Mallory.” He repeats my name as if he’s incapable of saying anything else. His eyes light up, crinkling at the corners as a grin I would’ve once described asheart-stoppinggraces his lips.
“Do you have a concussion?” My first words to him in three years spew out full of pent-up bitterness.
His brows furrow. “No.”
“Then why do you keep repeating my name?”
Griffin doesn’t answer my question. Instead, he moves a hand to my face, brushing the back of his knuckles along my cheek as he tucks a rogue curl behind my ear.
I grit my teeth against all the feelings that threaten to rise to the surface at his touch.
“It’s really you.”
I swat his hand away. “We already established that. I seriously think you need to see a doctor.”
He shakes his head, and a little bit of the stupor leaves his blue eyes. I avert my gaze, not wanting to be drawn in like I was when I first met him.
That’s when I notice the entire coffee shop staring at us unashamedly. Multiple people have their phones aimed our way, likely recording the entire interaction. Great. This is definitelynothow I expected the start of my winter break to go.
Griffin finally lets go of his hold on my waist, and I release a shaky breath as he steps toward the pickup counter. He smiles at the blushing barista. “Can you please remake this beautiful lady’s drink?” He tosses a hundred-dollar bill across the counter as if it’s nothing to him. I suppose it isn’t now.
The woman stands taller at the sight of the tip. “Right away, Mr. Reynolds.”
Under different circumstances, I’d be opposed to him paying for my replacement drink, but I have a raging headache, so I’m not going to turn down the caffeine. Especially after he just ruined my drink…again.
I grab a few napkins and pat the sleeve of my coat, soaking up the little bit of liquid there. I throw them away and turn. My jaw drops in shock at the sight in front of me—Mr. Hollywoodmopping. I mean, he has no qualms about making women have feelings for him on a date and then ghosting them, so why would he care about cleaning up the mess he caused? Where did he even get the mop? And is hehumming?
The nerve of this man, acting as if he’s happy to see me—actingbeing the keyword here.
“Here you go.” The barista hands me a large sugar cookie latte, good as new.
“Thanks.” I take it and turn to leave, nearly running into Griffin again.
He places his hands on my arms, steadying me. “Whoa, there.”
I scoff. “I’m not a horse.”
Griffin smirks. “I forgot how funny you are.”
“Just your everyday comedian,” I deadpan. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”
His smile falls. “I thought we could sit and catch up.”
Sit and catch up? Is this guy for real?
“Give me one good reason why I should talk to you.”
The light in his eyes dims as if I’ve hurt him. “I’ve been looking for you for years.”
Malloryishere.
