Page 45 of A False Start
“Nadia! Wait!” Tommy calls, but he doesn’t come after me. Thank God, he’s consistent in his flakiness.
I pass the men’s room where whatever this is between Griffin and I began.
Romantic, Nadia.
My heart aches. I don’t know what his story is, but I know Griffin is a good man. A deeply good man. A man who doesn’t want to betray his friend, a man who is killing himself to resist this thing between us because he thinks it’s a mistake.
And maybe it is.
But maybe it’s not.
Letting him leave this place, thinking that I’m in any way aligned with what Tommy just said, would be a mistake.
I poke my head into the men’s bathroom and am met with a “Get the fuck out!” from a man who is not Griffin.
Which leaves me with the rear exit. He could be gone by now, but I feel a pull in that direction I can’t ignore.
It’s dark out back, and it smells like grease. I look left and there’s nothing but huge garbage bins and some employee vehicles in the otherwise sparse gravel lot. I look right, and there is Griffin, leaned up against the stucco wall, hands pinned behind his lower back as he stares up at the navy-blue sky twinkling with bright constellations.
He doesn’t move to recognize my presence, but he knows I’m here. And me? I stand and watch him. He reminds me of a cornered animal. Wild. Feral. Distressed.
With a few small steps, I’m standing in front of him, his gaze still trained on the stars.
“You gotta stop coming after me.” He swallows audibly.
I nod because he’s probably right. That would be the smart thing to do. But I’ve already established I don’t do smart things where he’s concerned.
So, I take a deep breath and shoot my shot. “Okay. I’ll stop tomorrow.” I step in closer. My breasts press against his firm chest as I snake my arms around his ribs.
I tuck my head under his chin, and I hug him. I grip him. We don’t talk because we don’t need to. I feel the tension leaving his body, seeping out slowly. And I’m happy to absorb it all. Taking someone else’s pain is a hell of a lot better than stewing in my own.
Eventually he rasps, “You shouldn’t be out here with me when your boyfriend is in there, Nadia.”
I roll my lips together and inhale deeply through my nose, wanting to wrap myself in his scent. Pine and laundry soap. “I came here tonight only to tell him we would never happen. I think I made myself clear.”
Griffin’s body heaves beneath mine, like he’s relieved by what I just told him. And then his arms come out from behind his back. He drapes them over my shoulders and drops his bearded cheek onto the top of my head.
He nuzzles me. Wrapped up in his strong arms...it’s heaven.
If I were a cat, I’d straight up purr right now.
“Good. You can do better.” His voice is quiet, but that doesn’t matter when we’re pressed up against each other like this. I can feel him breathing, I can feel his heart beating. If he’s the ocean, I just want to ride the waves.
“I can,” I murmur back, fisting the back of his denim shirt in my fingers.
In Griffin’s arms, I’m more at peace than I ever have been, and I can’t explain why.
“I’m not better.” His voice cracks.
“Okay.” I’m not going to argue with him. That’s not what he needs right now. He needs someone to lean on, not pretty words.
“I’m an alcoholic. Haven’t touched a drop in years. But I’ll still always be one.”
“Okay.”
“That should send you running.” His voice picks up a sharper tone.
“Okay.” I snuggle in closer. If he’s trying to scare me away, it won’t work.
