Page 31 of Property of Grifter
“Die Hard.”I cackle.
“You’re shittin’ me,” he laughs.
“Heck, no.That movie is epic and it’s one that you can watch over and over without getting tired of it.”
“I was wrong, Georgie.You are a witch, one who is casting a love spell on me.”
“That was so lame, Griffin,” I laugh, and wondering how it’s possible I can laugh about something that hurt me for years.
“I’m almost afraid to ask now, but what’s your favorite movie ever?”
“Oh, that’s easy.Princess Bride.”
He frowns like I just confessed to murder.“I had such high hopes for you after your Christmas movie.Now, we’ve crashed back to reality.That’s one I’ve never seen, but it definitely sounds like a chick flick.”
I look at him like he just kicked my puppy.“It’s epic!”
“Sure, baby.”
“I’m serious, Griffin.You have to watch it.It’s hilarious!”
“Is it the kind that’ll zap all the testosterone from my body?”
“Maybe just half,” I tease.
He shakes his head at me.“For you, I’ll watch it.But you can’t tell anyone.”
I raise my hand solemnly.“I promise.Witch’s honor.”
“I see what you did there, you little minx.”
“You know, the rumors in town really are absurd,” I confess.“If I really were a witch, I’d wiggle my nose and clean up this nasty room.”
He looks around, studying the room.“Is that why you didn’t turn the bed down?”
“Well, duh,” I say with mock seriousness.“Even now, I’m fearing for my life because I’m lying on this comforter with only a blanket between me and the unknown.”
“Point made.Do you know anyone that does cleaning?”
“Not really, why?”
“Because it’s not my thing, and I want you to stay here with me.That means it needs to be clean.”
Something tender stirs in my chest.“Griffin, I really had fun tonight.”
“After I stopped being an idiot, you mean.”
I groan.“I’m trying to forget the disaster that was the first part of our date.It’d be nice if you stopped reminding me.”
He leans closer, voice low.“I’ll remind you how good it is when we kiss instead.”
“Um, that’s dangerous considering we’re lying in bed together.How about we play five questions instead?”
“Five questions?”he repeats.“I thought it was twenty.”
“I have a short attention span,” I tease, making him laugh again.
We take turns asking funny, harmless questions that slowly turn into something softer.He asks about my favorite food, my first car, the worst lie I’ve ever told.I ask about his first tattoo, his favorite ride, the moment he knew he wanted to lead this club.Each answer makes me feel closer to him, like the walls between us are slowly falling away.
