Chapter 24
I’m on a jet.
Scratch that.
I’m on a private jet.
The kind where we’re the only people on it except the flight attendant, a bodyguard, and pilots. The kind where everyone keeps referring to me as “Ms. Porter.” I don’t think I could ever get used to anyone besides my students calling me that.
Griffin sleepily readjusts in the luxury recliner across from me.
There’s a small circle of drool on his shirt where his mouth meets his shoulder, and I can’t help but find it adorable.
He looked perfect when I woke up next to him on his couch after our movie marathon, so it makes me feel better knowing that even celebrities drool in their sleep.
That’s a win for normal people everywhere.
A way of knowing we’re not alone in our plebeian ways.
He looks incredibly handsome in his white button-down and khakis. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, and let me just say, even drool can’t take away from his attractiveness.
I feel completely underdressed in my matching pink sweat set. But Griffin said I looked adorable when he picked me up, and I’ve learned he’s the type of guy who only says what he means.
“Ms. Porter?” The stewardess stops beside us. “We’ll arrive in Los Angeles in about thirty minutes.”
“Thank you.” At the thought of landing, my eyes go wide. Will paparazzi be there to greet us? There’s not much I can do about my outfit, but I can at least let my hair down and freshen up my curls before we land.
My hair is currently up in a pineapple—not the actual fruit, but a pineapple bun where all my curls are piled on top of my head and secured with the perfect scrunchie.
I usually only wear it like this at night to protect my hair, not to be seen getting off a private jet with my movie star boyfriend.
I let out a dreamy sigh at the thought of Griffin.
I can hardly believe that he’s my boyfriend, and not the fake kind.
My feelings for him have been confusing to put it simply.
From our explosive chemistry the first time we met to waiting weeks for a call that never came, to seeing his interview and thinking I meant nothing to him.
Then running into him again three years later and reliving our first meeting.
From fake dating to real feelings to real dating.
Our relationship is tough to describe, and we still have things to figure out if we want a future together. But to end up right here in the arms of a handsome man who truly sees me and values me for who I am, well, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I stand, careful not to wake Griffin, and make my way to the bathroom. My jaw drops when I open the door and see how much larger it is than the ones on the planes I usually fly on—no expert maneuvering to touch the toilet as little as possible is required.
I gently pull out my favorite scrunchie and fluff my hair.
A few sections of it look wonky, so I wet them and do my best to finger-curl them back into place.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Griffin’s gaze is locked on me as I walk back to my seat.
I feel like I’m dressed for the red carpet already with the heated way he’s staring at me.
“Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?” He stands and kisses me, soft and tender. “And your pink outfits.” His lips hover near mine, teasing me, making me want more. “Really, it’s just you.”
“That you love?” I pull back, raising a brow. The blush that covers his cheeks feels like a first-place trophy—I’m the winner of our teasing game.
Griffin stutters. “I— Uh— That’s not what I meant to say. I just meant that I like everything about you.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“I’m messing with you.” I nudge him with my elbow. “I like you too, Mr. Razzle-Dazzle.”
He groans. “We’re still not past that?”
“Never.” I grin. “It helps me fall asleep every night.”
Griffin squeezes my side, and I can’t help but squeal. I try to wiggle away from him, but he grabs my hips and pulls us both onto his leather recliner. I end up on his lap, facing him.
“At least I know my voice is soothing, if it lulls you into a deep slumber.” His stubble grazes my face as he moves his lips close to my ear. “Maybe I need to film a different commercial that won’t make you fall asleep.”
“I can think of other ways you could keep me awake.” I press my lips to the corner of his mouth, taunting him with the thought of more.
His cheeks tinge pink, giving me another win. He shakes his head. “I thought I knew who you were, but I think I underestimated you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I flutter my lashes, playing coy.
Griffin’s lips pull up into his signature grin—the one for me.
“Oh, I think you know exactly what you’re doing to me, Mallory Porter.
” He readjusts my body so I’m facing away from him, then wraps his seatbelt around both our laps before clicking it into place.
Griffin takes my hands, intertwining our fingers and resting them in my lap as the plane descends.
I know I should probably move back to my own seat, but for once, I’m exactly where I want to be.
I’ve now learned that a perk of arriving somewhere in a private jet means a private runway, which also means no paparazzi. I planned on changing into something nicer before dress shopping, but Griffin’s driver pulls to a stop in an alleyway.
I look around, spotting a few doors but no signage. “Um, where are we?”
“The fancy gown store I rented out for the morning.” Griffin turns to face me. “I’ve already arranged everything with the owners. Pick whatever you want. Nothing is too much. Get yourself some heels and accessories while you’re at it.”
“Are you trying to spoil me?”
“Now that you’re my girlfriend…” Griffin leans in and presses his mouth to mine, parting my lips and getting my heart racing. He pulls away with a knowing smile; he definitely just got a point in the game. “I plan on giving you anything your heart desires.”
“Anything?” I move closer, brushing my lips against his.
He laughs. “There will be more time for that later. For now, I want you to feel as beautiful as you are, so pick whatever dress makes you feel like that.”
A few weeks ago, I would’ve thought his words were crap. But now that I know that his intentions are true, they leave me feeling warm. Something akin to love swirls inside, though I’m hesitant to call it that when he hasn’t shared those words with me yet.
It takes a minute for everything he said to sink in. “Wait, you’re not coming in with me?”
“Karina wants to meet with me in person while I’m here. Besides, I want to be surprised when I see you on the red carpet tomorrow. I’ll have a driver here to take you to my apartment when you’re done.”
“Okay.” I scoot away, trying to sound more confident than I feel. I’m in a pink sweat set, about to shop in what I’m sure is not a sweats kind of store. I open the car door and step outside. When I turn back to him, he’s smiling widely.
“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
I wave goodbye and open the shop door, making the bell chime.
After taking a steadying breath, I walk inside.
A tall middle-aged woman with a pinched expression immediately walks over.
She’s in a tight dress that looks like it would cost more than my monthly salary.
“Hello, I’m Serafina. Feel free to browse and bring me any gowns you’d like to try on.
I’ll be just over there if you need anything.
” She points to a counter before moving that way.
I clasp my hands behind my back and begin perusing the racks at the front of the store. There are no windows in here—likely for privacy reasons— but there are enough bright lights to make me feel like I’m in a spotlight center stage.
There are so many options, I honestly don’t even know where to start.
Do I look for high necklines or a low back?
Straps or strapless? What kind of material says high-end so I don’t end up being listed as the worst-dressed guest in articles?
I’m sure many of Griffin’s fans already think I’m not good enough for him.
I don’t want to give them more reasons to think they’re right, but I’m way out of my depth here.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, ready to call Alyssa and get her fashion expertise, when the bell on the door chimes again.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
I turn and watch as the woman removes her large designer sunglasses, slipping them into her purse. My mouth falls open as she approaches me with an outstretched hand. “I’m Brit—”
“You’re Brittany Clearwater.” I stare at her as if she’s a figment of my imagination.
Brittany tosses her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Did Griffin not tell you I was coming?” When I shake my head, she sighs. “That’s men for you.”
“You’ve got that right.” But that still doesn’t explain why Griffin sent her.
“When he mentioned that he was setting this shopping spree up for you, I offered to come help,” she clarifies. “I remember how overwhelming it was when I had to dress up for my first Hollywood event.”
I immediately decide that I like her. For someone so famous, Brittany seems down-to-earth. “That was really thoughtful of you. Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to be here. I could use all the help I can get.” I let out a nervous laugh.
“You’re so welcome.” Brittany smiles, and it lights up the whole room. She gestures to the racks of dresses. “Are you ready to shop until you drop?”
I’m not sure that my petite body type is built for all these long, glittering gowns, but I nod anyway. “Let’s do it.”
“What style of dress are you typically drawn to?” Brittany peers at me over the rack. She’s tall and slender, a true model figure. I’m sure she’d look stunning in any style of gown. As for me, I could only dream of looking good in a handful of these.