Page 36 of The Wrong Sister

Fuck him.

Fuck that.

Never again.

I amno one’sdirty little secret.

23

griffin

I miss Mina and I only have myself to blame. I knew I was going to have to figure out what I wanted. I knew the real world and our families would have to be considered. But I wasn’t expecting to be confronted with it before I had an opportunity to think about everything carefully and rationally. I was riding high on emotions alone, untethered, floating free. In other words, out of control. I froze. By the look on Mina’s face, it’s obvious that was the worst thing I could have done. And Rafferty’s reaction didn’t help either. Nothing like being chastised by your younger brother.

I hadn’t made any plans for Sunday. I figured I’d be with Mina, in her bed. Instead, I found myself back at my apartment, alone. My sheets smelled like her and everywhere were subtle reminders of our time together. That simply would not do. The only thing worse than spending the day thinking about the fact that I could have been naked with Mina at that very moment would be doing just that surrounded by her intoxicating smell and evidence of our recent activities. So, the usual Sunday cleaning it is.

I change the bedding and wash a load of laundry. Then I spend the morning cleaning the rest of my apartment until it smells like my preferred cleaning spray and not a certain petite vixen. I sprawl out on my couch, intending to watch a guilty pleasure, but that only reminds me of how Mina reacted so sweetly to my confession. Now the thought of the show is ruined and I’m even more pissed with myself. What should have been an epic Sunday crawls by with a lot of mental berating and mindless tasks.

I should have given her a little time to cool off and then reached out. I should have apologized. Clarified. Anything. But the more time stretched after I froze in the hallway, the more old worries grew. I hadn’t steered clear of Mina because I didn’t want her. Mina isn’t safe. I spent the entire weekend letting everything slip from my controlled grasp: spending all of Saturday in bed, ordering out, sleeping in, I ran across the fucking street carrying her like a backpack and laughing like a crazy person! I fell completely and totally under her spell, seduced by her passion and energy, addicted to feeling truly alive for the first time in forever. But that can’t be sustainable. You can’t just live like that. Boring Griffin is necessary, otherwise, everything could spiral out into a chaotic, disorganized disaster. I should be alone.

As the week goes by, I try to throw myself into work. It shouldn’t be a stretch, that’s all I normally do anyway. But thus begins the wildly fluctuating feelings and thoughts I have about Mina and the future. My thoughts find their way back to Mina more often than is healthy. Her soft expression while she’s sleeping; the fiery way she stands up to me, calling me out on my shit; the sexy combination of soft, curves and firm muscles. I miss her presence. I feel her absence like a physical sensation. That’s fucking ridiculous, it was a weekend!

I make it to Thursday before I begin to feel like I’m losing my mind. Mina has become an obsession. I can’t stop thinking about her. Fantasizing about her. Remembering what it felt like to be inside of her, to have my mouth on her, to have hers on me. I’m wildly unstable right now and I hate it.

I have to talk to her. That’s all that’s needed to fix the mess in my head. I have to confront all the things that are scaring the fuck out of me, in her presence, because if I’m being totally honest, I don’t think I’ve been fair to her. I think I was so scared, I magnified certain parts of her while ignoring others. It’s all become a cyclone of fear and uncertainty, to the point that I’m not sure what’s fact and what’s chickenshit. I need to just pause for a moment and breathe.

Then I’m back to—I need Mina. She’s taken over my idle thoughts and dreams and I don’t like being at her mercy without her. Enough is enough. I have to see her. I finish up my workday, pack up my briefcase, and walk over to the CWS office. I can talk to her. Apologize. Hopefully being in a professional setting will help keep things calm and civil. Not being yelled at would be ideal. Not getting so emotional that things slip out of my grasp would be preferable. I’m also hoping the fact that it is the end of the workday will mean we can speak uninterrupted. The fewer people there are to witness my fast free-fall into insanity the better.

While approaching the main door, I catch a glimpse of a blond guy who looks weirdly familiar. He seems to be waiting in the hallway, barely out of sight of the CWS door, but as soon as we make eye contact he turns and leaves. Hmm. If I don’t think about it, I’ll probably remember where I know him from. Trying to recall just makes the memory retreat further.

I knock on the frame of her open door.

“Mina?”

She looks up from a stack of paperwork in front of her and the expression on her face is immediately guarded.

“Yes, Mr. Simms? What can I do for you in the exactly 2 minutes I have before the end of my work day?”

I take the opening and claim the seat across from her desk, sitting my briefcase on the floor next to me. “Can I talk to you?”

“What is this concerning? As you can see, I’m pretty busy,” she spits out, jaw set and the line of her shoulders tense. Her desk is busy but not a mess; a full calendar, organized files, and a notebook full of notes under the computer monitor evidence of how much she takes care of every day. I feel like such an asshole. Again. Look at her! Mina isn’t chaos. She’s disciplined and intense and intimidating as fuck. She’s a fighter, not a flake. Before I can reply there’s another knock on her door and an older woman pokes her head in.

“I’m heading out, you’re the last one here. I’ll lock the outer door when I leave so no one surprises you. See you tomorrow, Mina!”

Mina nods at her and says good night. I stand up to close her door. I know her co-worker said we’re the last ones here but, just in case, I’d prefer privacy for this conversation. Mina stands up, puts the file that was in front of her away, then walks around the side of her desk, concentrating on a pile of papers stacked on the edge. She’s wearing the pencil skirt again and all rational thoughts fly out of my brain. I want her. It’s bordering on need at this point. And I need her to need me too. I need to make up for being an idiot. I need to make her understand that I made a mistake. I shut and lock the door and walk up behind her, my hands sliding along her hips.

“I can’t help thinking about that conversation—what we would do when you’re wearing this skirt.”

Mina slowly straightens the stack of papers and then turns around, leaning against the desk, staring me down. Her nostrils flare and her mouth is pinched.

“And I seem to recall pushing my skirt up to my waist wasyourfantasy, Griffin. Why would the asshole who picked me by default, who was embarrassed to be seen with me, get to walk intomyoffice and live outhisfantasy? From where I’m standing, you’re the one who fucked up. If anyone should be treated to their office fantasy, it’s me, not you. And why would I let you be the one to give it to me?” She glares, not giving me an inch.

“What do you desire, Mina?” My voice is low and my heart is beating so hard in my chest, it feels like my ribs will fail to contain it at any moment and it will burst free.

“You owe me an apology.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Meens. I’m sorry I froze. I was drunk on you, on our connection, and on our weekend alone. I haven’t felt that…alive maybe ever! It scared the shit out of me.” No reaction. Shit shit shit. “In the hallway, I wasn’t prepared to be confronted with real life. I wasn’t embarrassed by you. I just hadn’t given myself time to think about anything outside of the two of us. I don’t do well without a plan and time to process. I sort of short-circuited.”

She’s still glaring but she hasn’t pulled away from me and being able to touch her has calmed my frazzled nerves.

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