9. Griff
nine
Griff
T ravelling with my best friend has never been hard. We’ve always had an easy banter and understanding.
This trip is different. While our banter and teasing are still there, I know I’m hiding something big from Jamieson, and if I don’t tell him, it will cause hurt I didn’t intend to bring.
He parks the truck in an angled parking space along the main street. This town is so cute, it should be on a postcard. Rainbow flags hang from all the lamp posts down the street, and giant hanging baskets of flowers in a riot of colours hang literally everywhere there’s still space.
“Griff, look.”
Jamieson grabs my attention as we meet in front of the truck and he points to a crosswalk painted in rainbow with the words, YOU MATTER , through it. If my town did this when I was growing up, I would have made an enormous impact on my life. Simple gestures can go a long way.
“Wow. I know Kissing Ridge is progressive, but I don’t think you’ll ever see them painting a crosswalk like that.”
“This is going to be amazing, Griff. Come on. Let’s pick up the key and find dinner. ”
Jamieson leads me down the sidewalk towards the place we’re supposed to pick up the key to our accommodations.
“This is it.”
He pushes open the door to Dark Horse Tattoo, and I don’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. It’s lush and welcoming, with a plant hanging in the corner and comfortable furniture. The walls are adorned with gorgeous paintings, some that border on erotic, but the one that holds prime wall space is a painting of a peacock.
“I’ll be right there!” A younger man exits a side room after a beat. “Oh! You must be Jamieson?”
“Yeah, is Marko in?”
“He isn’t. Kind of a last-minute thing, but he left you a key and some info. I’d be happy to answer questions you have on how to get to the ranch, though.”
Jamieson chats up the younger man, Curtis, and I sort of listen while my gaze keeps returning to the paintings along the one wall. The peacock is so vibrant and stunning, it’s hard to look away, but it’s the smaller piece next to it that keeps drawing my attention.
“Griff? Did you hear me?”
Jamieson is suddenly next to me, and I point to the pencil-drawn art. “Look at this. I’ve never been one to appreciate art, but I can’t stop looking at it.”
It looked like a simple drawing from across the room, but the more I stared, the more it drew me in. It’s not overly complex, but it calls to me in a way I can’t put my finger on.
“All the art is by Marko, the guy who did Jamieson’s tattoo. He’s the owner of this place. He’s also a supremely talented artist.” Curtis walks over to stand on my other side. “He drew this on his honeymoon. It’s one of his favourites. Mine too.”
The sketch is a man’s hand holding a heart. The heart isn’t perfect or anatomically correct. It’s literally a cartoonish heart, but it’s drawn with purposeful imperfections. It’s scratched and missing a tiny piece on the edge, but it’s smiling with a single tear on its cheek. The heart walks from one hand into the other, and the wedding bands are visible on the ring finger of each hand now that Curtis mentioned a honeymoon.
One hand is calloused, and the other is smoother but paint stained, and it’s the way the damn heart has a hand reaching out to the empty hand that has me blink back something raw. Something I just can’t put into words.
“Would he mind if I took a photo of it?”
“I don’t think so. He knows Jamieson, so I think he’d be okay with it.”
My hand shakes as I pull my phone out and snap the picture. If Jamie notices, he doesn’t comment on it.
“Right, so you said there’s a diner here we should eat at?”
On cue, Jamieson’s stomach growls and we all laugh. Curtis explains how to find the diner and I take a last glance at the art on the walls.
“Thanks for your help, Curtis. Just in case I don’t see Marko while we’re here, please thank him for me.”
As we leave Curtis in the shop, we walk along the sidewalk towards the diner. With it only a few blocks away, we leave the truck and enjoy the chance to stretch and experience this cute little town .
“I wasn’t totally listening, but did Curtis say something about the place we’re staying at not having a coffeemaker?”
Jamieson laughs and bumps his shoulder into mine. “Figures that’s the only part you remember. But yes, he said that. But we can go to the main house after 5 A.M. and get coffee or we can just go to the coffee shop across the street from the tattoo place. They’re open 7 days a week and are amazing. I stopped in when I was here last.”
“You know I need time to wake up in the morning, so whatever works best.”
“Griff…” From the corner of my eye, Jamieson chews at his lips and my shoulders tense at what he wants to say. “That drawing you liked…it uh…”
Jamieson stops walking and forces me to meet his gaze. “That night we fought before my ride, and I didn’t want to listen to you about Homewrecker, you remember?”
“It’s hard to forget, Jamie.”
We fought for real for the first time—ever. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to listen to me, but more because I was still hurting over what had happened the night before. I said things in the heat of the moment that I wasn’t proud of, but they carried a lot of truth I wasn’t sure Jamieson picked up on. Maybe I was wrong.
“I’m sorry. You’re the most important person in my life, Griff. I never meant to hurt you, and when I saw you looking at that drawing so closely…I think I get it.”
My mouth runs dry, and I look into my best friend’s eyes. The same hurt when I threw those mean words at him sits there, but also, there’s something new. Maybe he understands after all .
“It’s not my business what you do with your private life, Jamie. I was out of line that night, and I still regret what I said.”
Jamieson was sucking face with a pretty girl in the corner while the boyfriend watched. He claimed to be cool with it, but I recognized the look on his face. The jealousy. The wish that she’d give him the same attention. Perhaps the girl was clueless and really loved the man like she claimed, and was only looking for something exciting. A roll with a cowboy is on every girl’s bucket list, it seems.
But the way Jamieson had so flippantly ignored my request to let this one go and told me to get over it ignited the latent anger I wasn’t aware was close to erupting. He dismissed me and the other man’s feelings in such an uncharacteristic way I lashed out.
“You need to watch yourself, Jamie! People’s hearts are real and breathe. Just because it seems like a good idea to you doesn’t mean others aren’t getting hurt. You’re such a self-centred prick!”
“Oh, fuck off, Griff, with all your righteous bullshit. You’re just pissed that you aren’t getting laid. Why don’t you find someone for yourself for once and just leave me alone?” he sneered through the haze of alcohol. “Oh, that’s right. Nobody is ever good enough for you. I forgot.”
He was right and didn’t even know it was him I measured everyone against. Even in that moment, when he was the ugliest I’d ever seen him, I knew I could never not love him.
Jamieson sighs and rubs a hand across his belly, drawing me out of my sad memory.
“Not to be an asshole and change the subject, but I really need to eat.” His lips tilt in that cute half smile.
“It’s fine. We never did clear the air properly that night. This is good.” I cock my head towards the diner. “But let’s get you fed before you reach that cranky stage.”
Jamieson’s laughter lightens my heart, and he slings his arm around my shoulders like he always does when we go anywhere.
“You know me the best, Griff.”
He chatters on about the diner and stuff Curtis told him, but I nod and half listen. I’m still stuck on that damn drawing and wondering if Jamie really gets it at all.
By the time we make it to the ranch, our bellies full of home-cooked food and bags of far too many snacks from the grocery store, the sun has dipped behind the trees. A bright moon illuminates the ranch’s yard, and we park in front of the equipment barn as directed.
A sign above the small door on the barn says, Loft Entrance , and after grabbing a few bags each, we take the single flight of wooden stairs to the top. Jamieson doesn’t use the key, it’s always open. The key is for us to lock up when we go out. Part of what Curtis was telling Jamieson was that the ranch was safe and we don’t need to lock up unless we want to.
He steps in and sets his bags on the kitchen island right in front of us and I flick on the light switch. It’s a gorgeous open space above a barn. Renovated to be modern but rustic at the same time. Obviously, a bathroom needed to be installed and instead of a wood burning heat source, an electric fireplace sits in the seating area.
“Where’s the…oh.”
After setting my bags on the counter and walking towards the couches, there’s an alcove that serves as the bedroom. With one bed.
Jamieson brushes past me and flicks on the lamp on one side of the bed.
“Looks like we’re snuggling, Griff. It’s a king, though. If I roll around too much, you should be fine on your side.”
Jamieson states it all matter of fact, like we’ve had sleepovers and shared beds our whole lives.
“Don’t steal the covers and I’ll be fine.” I joke.
It’s a lie though. Sharing a room is one thing, but a bed? Where I can feel his heat and smell all things Jamie, and not be able to do anything? Jesus fuck, this is a disaster.
He laughs as he squeezes my shoulder. “I can’t make any promises. You put the food in the fridge, and I’ll go grab the rest of our stuff.”
Jamieson disappears out the door, and I do as he suggested. Poking around the kitchen, it doesn’t seem like there’s much to cook with in here. A kettle and a small pot, along with a few plates and cutlery. Maybe the people who usually stay here eat in the main house too?
“Okay, this is the last of the stuff. Curtis said the Wi-Fi is good here and we should be able to use Netflix on the TV at a minimum.” He peels off his T-shirt and tosses it towards the bed. “ I’m going to shower and probably just get some sleep, though. It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, good idea. I’ll find that tape and plastic bags for my arm and do the same.”
Jamieson pops into the shower, and I cast a worried glance at the bed.
Jamieson was out like a light, lightly snoring, but in a way that always makes me smile. It’s not a window rattling snore but this little grumble, like a cat’s contented purr.
I laid awake on the edge of that damn bed so close I’d probably fall off if I ever fell asleep. The last few days have been…exhausting. My mind just won’t turn off.
The ache in my arm has settled, but the one in my heart has doubled in size over the last two days. Jamie taking care of me, even while I was at the hospital, jostled the feelings loose. The ones I thought I had covered well and locked away.
Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t.
The acceptance into the master’s psychology program that I ultimately declined. My dad drinking himself into an early grave while I watch, helpless to do anything but hope for a miracle. The torch I have for Jamie still burning bright against all my attempts to extinguish it .
Everything has washed to the surface like debris on the shore after a potent storm.
My life feels out of control, all because my heart wants someone who doesn’t feel the same.
Jamieson twitches in his sleep, and I turn my head on my pillow towards him. He’s still handsome when he sleeps with his mouth hanging open and that purring snore. His long body finally at rest and splayed over three-quarters of the king-sized bed.
It would be so easy to shuffle closer and have a part of him touch me while he sleeps. I could pretend he’s mine.
Or I could make a fucking decision like I originally planned and get on with my life. Accept the admission and forget about my dad, and just do one thing for myself that doesn’t make me hurt.
With a sigh, I adjust my arm across my chest and attempt to get some sleep.