Chapter 14 #2
My parents pepper Griffin with more questions while I lean back and enjoy the focus not being on me.
Well, as much as I can enjoy myself when Griffin’s fingers are laced through mine.
He rubs his thumb along the palm of my hand, sending goosebumps trailing up my arm.
It doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, like it’s instinctual to touch me like this.
I tighten my grip on his hand, forcing him to stop moving. I can’t think straight with him doing that, and I need to keep a clear mind around him to avoid falling back into his arms.
Griffin shoots a worried glance my way before turning back to my parents. “I had a wonderful time tonight. But Mallory picked me up, and I want her to be able to get home before it’s too late. I heard it’s supposed to get icy tonight.”
“So thoughtful.” My mother flings her hand to her chest, looking at us like we’re a couple from a romance movie come to life in her dining room.
Griffin insists on carrying all the dishes to the kitchen while I say goodbye to my parents.
“You found yourself a real keeper, sweetie,” my mother whispers in my ear as she hugs me tightly.
“I know.” The words taste bitter coming out of my mouth.
I hate that the first man I brought home to meet my parents is all a sham.
I want a relationship like my parents have someday, and I know they want the same for me.
I feel awful giving them hope for a famous future son-in-law when it’s all a lie.
But I think it would be even worse to tell them the truth now.
My dad pulls me in for a hug next, cracking my back with the force of his squeeze. “I love you. And I like Griffin, but you let me know if he ever wrongs you, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Um, thanks, Dad,” I manage to say without laughing.
Griffin walks back into the dining room and shakes Dad’s hand before giving Mom a hug. She holds onto him for longer than I expect, patting his back as she says something too quiet for me to hear.
When he finally pulls back, he says, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you again for dinner.” Griffin returns to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist. “You ready, beautiful?”
I nod, and he leads me outside and opens the car door for me. I slide into the driver’s seat and turn it on, blasting the heat. Cold air blows out of the vents, and I slide my hands under my thighs, trying to stay warm as Linda heats up.
“You’ve got this, girl,” I encourage her.
Griffin hops into the passenger seat and rubs his hands together. “Man, it got cold out.”
I don’t respond, and the silence starts to feel deafening as I watch two minutes pass on the dashboard clock.
“So.” I draw out the word. “That was rough.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Really? I thought it went well. Do you think they hated me?”
“No, they loved you.” I roll my eyes. “I just hated being dishonest with them.”
He holds his hands around his mouth, blowing hot air into his palms as we wait for the car to heat up. “I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t lying about anything.”
There he goes again, making me question what’s real. Desperately needing a change in conversation, I say, “How does it make you feel that my mother has seen one of your movies but I haven’t?”
He laughs, his breath forming a small cloud in the car. “Honestly, I’m glad you haven’t seen it.”
“Really?” My eyes widen in surprise.
“My girlfriend doesn’t need to see me kiss another woman, even if it’s only on-screen.”
“Fake girlfriend,” I correct him.
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
“You really just woke up today and chose violence, didn’t you?” I deadpan.
Griffin’s laughter rings throughout the car as I move the gear shift into reverse. “If calling you my girlfriend is violence, then I’ll happily be the villain in your story. But can I at least be the morally gray one that you fall in love with at the end?”
Nothing about this man is morally gray. “You’re more of the golden retriever type.” I back out onto the road and begin the drive to Griffin’s rental.
“Then why is it so hard for you to like me?”
“Can’t you accept that not everyone is going to like you?”
“Not you.” He leans his head back and sighs. “Never you.”
My body has a visceral reaction to his words. Butterflies flutter in my stomach. My heart does a little pitter-patter. “You can’t go around saying things like that.”
“Like what, the truth?”
I shake my head. “I think I like it better when you don’t talk.”
Griffin reaches over and brushes a curl back from my face.
“Or touch me,” I add.
He doesn’t pull back, leaving his hand cupping my chin. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel this spark between us.”
My pesky heart that doesn’t seem to have a grasp on reality pounds in my chest. “Sparks aren’t enough. All it takes is a little water to put it out.”
“I’d much rather fan the flame.” His lips pull up into a tilted grin.
I lean back, making his hand fall away and breaking the spell of his touch.
“What can I do if I can’t talk or touch you?”
“Sit there and look pretty.”
“At least she thinks I’m pretty,” Griffin mutters under his breath.
Maybe miracles do exist because the car remains blessedly silent for the remainder of the drive to his house, granting me the peace I’ve been craving.
Once I park in his driveway, Griffin gets out of the car and leans on the frame, poking his head back in. “Do you have any plans Friday night?”
“I have girls’ night with my best friends every Friday. It’s tradition.”
He smiles. “I’d love to meet them.”
“I wasn’t offering—”
“There’s a Winter Market downtown that night. It would be a great photo op, and I feel like I should meet your friends since they’re my friends by proxy. You know, the whole ‘what’s yours is mine’ part of a relationship?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“I mean, I would…but there would be a lot of begging involved first that you probably don’t want to deal with.” He shoots me a crooked smile—the one that I’ve never seen on-screen. “You may as well avoid all the begging and say yes now.”
“Fine,” I groan. “We’ll be there.”
His grin widens. “I’m looking forward to it.” He starts to stand before his annoying face reappears in my car. “Text me when you get home, please?”
“Seriously?” I huff. “You already are infiltrating all areas of my life, and now you want me to text you all the time?”
His eyes drop to the driveway, and his smile falters. “To let me know that you made it home safe.”
Well, now I feel like the world’s biggest jerk.
“Oh.” My voice sounds as small as I feel. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”
He nods, still averting his gaze. “Good night, Mallory.” Griffin shuts the door and walks inside.
It shouldn’t bother me that he said my name rather than a playful good night, beautiful.
I don’t like him. He’s my fake boyfriend, and I intend for us to stay like that until we part ways at the end of this contract, never to see each other again.
But then why is my heart twinging with something that feels awfully close to sadness for the duration of my drive home?