Chapter 43
Ellie
“Can we keep this to ourselves for now?”
Laying in bed later that night, I absentmindedly stroke the patch of hair on Griffin’s chest, still unsure if this is a good idea. I look up at him nervously, waiting for his answer.
He frowns, and my stomach sinks. Six hours into trying this again and I’m already bringing him down.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Is that what you want, darlin’?” he asks quietly, running his fingers through my hair and tucking it behind my ear.
“I just want this to be ours,” I say, already feeling a tightness in my chest returning. “If everyone knows, there’s so much pressure. I want to get to know you again on our own terms.”
I tilt my head up, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw. “I don’t want to share you just yet.”
A smile tugs his mouth back up, and the iron grip on my insides loosens. He leans down to kiss me, then pulls me in tighter. We settle into the bed further, and I relish the feeling of being in his arms again.
“So it’s not because you’re ashamed of me?” he asks, his tone turning playful.
“As if.” Rolling my eyes, I look back up at him and my heart skips a beat at the unrestrained joy in his grin. “You’re the one who should be ashamed of me, I’m a nightmare.”
“Don’t you talk about my girl like that,” he teases, flicking me on the nose. “You’re an absolute dream, darlin’.”
The tension coiled so tightly inside of me slowly unravels with every word out of his mouth.
I’ve been a nervous wreck all afternoon, dreading the moment he comes to his senses and realizes he should want nothing to do with me.
But after a round of insane makeup sex and whispered sweet nothings, I’m starting to believe that we might make it through after all.
And maybe, just maybe–all of that heartbreak will have been worth it.
***
“Griffin, you couldn’t have picked a worse spot, I can’t see a damn thing.”
He hands me the movie snacks and clambers into the bed of his truck, scooching up next to me on our make-shift blanket pallet.
“It’s a drive-in, darlin’, it’s about the experience.
” Flashing me a wicked grin, he shoves enough popcorn in his mouth to make him look like a chipmunk, and I laugh so loud that people in front of us turn to give us a death glare.
“Movie’s starting Eleanor, don’t you know it’s rude to be noisy at the movies? ”
“Sorry,” I whisper-yell apologetically, elbowing Griffin in his ribs. “You’re going to get me in trouble,” I hiss in his ear.
“I’m betting on it,” he hums softly, biting my lobe gently and sending shivers all the way down to my toes. He chuckles darkly and snakes a hand around my waist, pulling me in closer. “I felt that.”
“Can you just watch the movie? It literally just started and you’re already distracting me,” I huff, but he nips at my ear again and suddenly I don’t even remember what movie we’re watching.
“We’ve seen it ten times,” he breathes, trailing kisses down my neck. “Danny and Sandy are still going to ride off into the sky, don’t you worry. My attention is on something much more interesting.”
His other hand plucks the popcorn bucket out of my hand and flings it to the side, lips now focused on my exposed shoulders, dusted with freckles from the summer sun.
“Is this why you parked all the way in the back corner?” My breathing has turned shallow, legs parting automatically as his hand slowly drags up my thigh and under my sundress. “I think you had some ulterior motives, Mr. Hart.”
“With you?” He smirks in satisfaction at my sharp inhale when his fingers ghost across a thin layer of cotton, the moisture between my legs undermining my half-hearted scolding. “Always.”
A soft whimper escapes me when his thumb applies the slightest bit of pressure to my clit, sweeping in slow circles that already have my hips lifting in search of more.
“Now, now, darlin’,” he whispers, fingers hooking the fabric and pulling it to the side. “You’re gonna have to keep it down if you don’t want to bother the fine folks in front of us. Think you can do that for me?”
No.
Nodding my head vigorously, I clamp my lips shut as he slowly sinks a finger into my soaking entrance.
Any slight sense of satisfaction I might feel from the way he groans fuck under his breath is instantly overshadowed when he adds a second finger, hooking them in a come-hither motion at the exact same time his thumb brushes over my clit again.
I reach up and grab his jaw, bringing his mouth to mine in an effort to muffle the sounds I have no control over. I rock against his hand as he pumps his fingers in and out of me, and a low growl in his throat has my toes tingling.
He fists the fabric of my dress, now entirely hiked up to my waist, and I cling to his shirt for dear life as he winds me up tighter and tighter.
“Goddamn, Eleanor.” His voice is deep and hoarse, and when my hand slides down the front of his body to find the rock-hard bulge in his jeans, it’s his turn to let out an uncontrollable moan. “Even the way you rub me through my jeans makes me see stars.”
“Shh, baby,” I croon in his ear. “You’re gonna have to keep it down. Think you can do that for me?”
“Fuck no,” he growls, his hand covering my mouth just in time when I let out a shriek as he pulls me from his side and into his lap, settling me between his thighs with my back to his chest. “But good thing we’re not focused on me right now.”
He wraps one arm across my shoulders, holding me to him while his other hand snakes back down between my legs, resuming the excruciating rhythm that has me on the precipice of exploding.
“Griffin,” I whimper, desperate for release. “Don’t stop.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promises, head dipping low. His fingers hit just the right spot as he bites me softly on the tender skin just above my collarbone and my vision goes blurry, legs shaking as he coaxes me through my orgasm.
My breathing levels out as my soul finds its way back to my body, and I twist to face him, my core clenching again as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. Everything this man does is sexy. I can’t even be mad at the triumphant smirk on his face–boy did he earn it.
“We’ll have to come back in the fall when it cools down,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple and brushing my sweat-slicked bangs out of my face. “I bet we can get away with a lot more bundled up in blankets. I sure as hell want to try.”
Guilt constricts like a tight band around my heart as he winks at me. Because I know I won’t be here in the fall. I know we have an expiration date. And I know I’m the sole cause of another catastrophe to add to the list of things I’ve ruined for myself.
I run my fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and kissing him deeply. We snuggle into each other without another word, turning our attention back to the movie just as John Travolta hits the high note of Summer Nights.
In what feels like the blink of an eye, the end credits begin to roll, and my body is still on fire.
Everything about Griffin lights me up from the inside out.
Not only does he give me earth-shattering orgasms on a near daily basis, but just being around him makes everything feel brighter, myself included.
When I’m alone with my own thoughts for too long, I find myself sinking inward to a place where everything has grey undertones and something I can’t quite put my finger on makes it hard to breathe.
But every time he looks at me, everything is golden again and I forget about the dark part of me that’s always clawing to drag me back into the grey.
When I’m with him, I’m just…better. A better person, a better version of myself–a version that starts to believe that maybe I could be the person he sees when he looks at me.
But right as I get comfortable in the warmth of being loved by this wonderful man, the cold, inescapable reality of Boston fights its way to the front of my brain and everything dims again.
I have to tell him. I want to tell him. But every time I get close to getting the words out, that horrendous, selfish part of me wins out.
Just a little longer. Let me live in this dream a little longer. Let me keep him a little longer.
He would tell me I could have both–I can have my dreams, and my sunshine boy.
But I know myself well enough to know that I can’t.
As much as I’d want to, I would get frustrated and bitter at having to keep one foot in Larkspur, and I’d turn into an absolute monster.
I want him to always remember me as his darling Eleanor.
I don’t want to let him watch me turn into someone he might not love anymore.
And what about what he wants?
I shake the thoughts from my head as we drive back into town, his hand holding mine in my lap.
I bring it to my mouth and kiss his fingers, and the smile he gives me cracks my heart clean in two.
I never wanted to, but from the moment he kissed me in his truck I knew I was going to break his heart again. He’s going to hate me.
But in this moment, with the warm summer air whipping through his hair while he looks at me like he can’t quite believe I’m real, no one could possibly hate me more than I hate myself.