Page 77 of How He Got the Girl
“With the way the snow is picking up, I should probably head home.”
My hope deflates like a helium-deprived balloon. Of course, I want her to make it home safely, but I’ll always want to spend more time with Mallory.
“Text me when you make it home?” I open the door for her.
“Yeah, I’ll text you.” She steps outside and wiggles her fingers. “See ya.”
After I close the door behind her, I rip my long-sleeved tee off over my head, adding it to the pile on the floor. It already feels infinitely better not having the sopping material clinging to my body.
I haven’t even made it to my bedroom to take a shower when there’s a knock at the door. My heart pounds in my chest. Maybe Mallory changed her mind and wants to spend more time with me. But that’s probably wishful thinking.
I walk back and open the front door to find Mallory standing there as if I willed it. She stares at my bare chest like it’s God’s personal gift to her. I don’t mind one bit.
“Everything okay?” I ask, trying to keep satisfaction out of my tone.
Her eyes drop to the porch. “Uh, Linda won’t start.”
I’ve never been more grateful that her car hates the cold. “I can call Ted and see if he can come take you home,” I offer, really hoping she doesn’t take me up on it.
She shakes her head. “The snow is starting to stick. I don’t want him to have to drive in this.”
I gesture inside. “You’re welcome to stay here until the snow lets up.”
Or however long you want. The rest of forever would be fine too.
“If you’re sure.” Mallory finally looks at me. Her eyes drag across my stomach, making me glad I did an ab workoutthis morning. Her eyes are still stuck on my stomach when she gasps.
“What’s wrong?”
She closes the distance between us and lifts my right arm, brushing her cold fingers along my rib cage. I suck in a breath, both because it feels like an ice cube running along my already cold skin, but also because of the flood of attraction that fills me as Mallory’s fingers trace my abdomen.
“What’s this?”
I look down to see where she tapped, spotting the little secret I’ve kept hidden from everyone since I got it over two years ago.
“A tattoo?” There’s no way out of this. She was bound to find out sooner or later, but I was hoping for much,muchlater.
She rolls her eyes. “I mean, what is it supposed to be?”
My voice is husky, barely above a whisper as I respond, “A to-go cup of hot chocolate.”
Ican’ttalk.Can’tthink. Can’tbreathe.
All I can do is stare at the black outline of a to-go cup tattooed on his skin. One that looks nearly identical to the one from our first date.
After a few seconds of trailing my finger along it, I force myself to look away from his ribs, finding his heated gaze fixed on me.
There’s only one word my lips can form. “When?”
His throat bobs as he swallows hard. I don’t think he planned on me seeing this today. Heck, I wouldn’t have seen it if my car had started. I suppose I should be thanking Linda for hating the cold.
“Around two and a half years ago.”
I can’t believe he chose this symbol to be forever inked on his skin. “Is this your only tattoo?” He nods. My brain is running a million miles a minute as it tries to process everything, but only one word comes out. “Why?” Apparently, I can only speak in single syllables now.
“Why, what?” Griffin reaches up, wrapping his fingers around mine.
I suck in a shaky breath. Words. I can form words. Clearing my throat, I slowly get them out. “Why did you choose a to-go cup of hot chocolate?”
