Chapter 5 Griffin #2
I wake up from a solid nap, it’s one of one of those rare, deep, drool-on-the-pillow types, and head downstairs, following the scent of something that smells like heaven and carbs had a baby.
In the kitchen, Mack and Terry are stirring a pot on the stove, and whatever they’re cooking smells really fucking good.
Mack smirks the second he sees me and, unsurprisingly, starts running his mouth. “Pissed the girlfriend off again, eh?”
I shoot him a glare and make a beeline for the stove, nostrils flaring as I take in the sight of bubbling red sauce. Spaghetti. Fuck yes.
Terry snorts at the look on my face and nods at my unasked question. “We made enough for you.”
I groan, hand to my chest like I’ve just been saved. “Thank God.”
I grab a water from the fridge and collapse into one of the dining chairs, head still foggy from sleep and emotional whiplash. I feel like I should be…sad or disappointed that Sabrina stormed out of here threatening to fuck someone else but I’m just not.
“Seriously,” Mack says, his tone softening a little and the smirk dropping. “You good? That was a pretty loud door slam when she left.”
I tilt my head side to side, debating whether or not to unload everything. They’re my best friends for a reason, and they’re the only people I actually want to talk to when shit goes sideways. But first-
“Is fucknut here?” I ask.
Mack snorts and Terry smiles faintly and replies, “Nah, he left a while ago.”
Good. I don’t need Connelly’s judgmental ass hovering around while I’m unraveling. The guy already looks at me like I’m a walking stereotype.
“Sab’s pissed I didn’t go to the party tonight,” I say with a sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. The guilt’s still there which pisses me off even more. I shouldn’t feel guilty about being exhausted. “But I’m fucking tired, man. We’ve got practice in the morning and-”
“You don’t need to defend yourself,” Terry cuts in with quiet authority. “Mack and I both skipped party invites. This week’s been brutal. Early morning skate isn’t a joke.”
I exhale loudly because finally. Relief settles in my chest like a warm weight because I didn’t realize how much I needed someone to just get it. To not make me feel like I was being a shitty boyfriend because I chose my future over a college party.
“And then,” I add, “she brought up marriage.”
Mack lets out a sharp, humorless snort. “Of course she did.”
I narrow my eyes at him, not missing the edge in his voice or the way his shoulders tense up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Terry clears his throat and shoots Mack a pointed look, the kind of wordless conversation they’ve clearly mastered over the years. Mack stares off, jaw tight, and Terry sighs and looks at the floor.
And I hate it. I hate being on the outside of whatever the fuck this is.
“Spit it out already,” I grumble.
Mack sighs and leans back against the counter, arms crossed like he’s about to deliver a TED Talk or a fucking intervention. “You’re about to go pro. Of course she wants to tie you down.”
I scoff, shaking my head like that thought’s ridiculous.
Sab’s a lot, yeah. She’s needy, she wants constant attention, and she thrives on drama like it’s oxygen, but she’s not a gold digger.
Not even close. Her family is richer than god and she has zero need to attach herself to a pro athlete for their money.
She might’ve stormed off tonight in a cloud of perfume and righteous fury, but she’ll come back. I’ll apologize for being a dick, take her out to dinner, we’ll have mind-blowing makeup sex, and everything will be fine for a while.
She just wants commitment. Right?
“She wants control,” Terry cuts in before I can spiral further.
He’s turned away from the stove now giving me that Captain expression, the one that makes you feel like you’re disappointing him personally and also possibly the entire team.
“She gets pissed when you don’t post her.
When you don’t show her off. When she doesn’t feel like she’s got you wrapped around her finger.
Every other week it’s some fight about rings or futures or whatever the hell.
And yeah, man, relationships take work but normal girlfriends?
Healthy ones? They’re at least understanding. ”
“We’ve been together for two years,” I offer. I don’t even know why I feel the need to defend her other than it’s what a good boyfriend would do. Even then, I don’t feel angry at their words…just…tired. Again. “She just wants to take the next step.”
Mack raises both brows and mutters, “Usually that’d be, I don’t know, living together or… fucking anal.”
I snort, water nearly coming out my nose, and shake my head. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Maybe,” Mack says, grinning like the smug asshole he is. “But I’m not wrong.”
We fall into silence while I let their words sit on my chest. We shovel spaghetti into our mouths like starving men and I contemplate the ins and outs of marriage as a fucking twenty-two year old.
Mack makes jokes about how bad the baseball team looks and I stew on the need to make Sabrina happy.
It’s a fucked up cycle of me being stuck in my head about something that feels so small.
Maybe I can give in and just give her what she wants. Maybe then things would be better. She would have that security and I wouldn’t have to worry about her yelling at me.
But then…then the fights would be about parties or dates or sex. Marriage isn’t a fucking answer…right?
I groan as I finish my plate, leaning back and slapping a hand against my stomach. Mack snorts and keeps going, shoveling food like he’s trying to bulk up in one meal.
Terry breaks the silence with a snicker. “Did Hughie talk to you guys about the new trainer?”
I raise a brow. “Uh… Jake? His brother?”
Terry shakes his head, still grinning. “Nah, not him. Jake’s the shit. I mean Lauren.”
Mack groans and immediately perks up. “Man, she’s got great tits.”
I fake a gag and make a face. “She legit got with half the basketball team, dude. Jonah nearly broken Sebastians jaw when he caught them fucking after she proclaimed undying love to him.”
Mack just shrugs, completely unbothered. “Don’t care.”
Terry laughs and ignores him. “Anyway, Hugh was not thrilled. Told us all to be on our best behavior. Said we shouldn’t cross any lines.”
Honestly? Fair.
Hooking up with medical staff is just asking for trouble. That’s a cocktail of bad decisions, locker room tension, and awkward injury treatment waiting to happen. And Hughie’s always been religious about keeping his shit tight, on and off the ice.
I nod. “It’s not a bad plan.”
Terry agrees, but he’s still wearing that amused look. “Then tell Mack to keep it in his pants. How long do we think that’s gonna last?”
Mack clutches his bare chest like he’s been personally wounded. “I can totally keep it in my pants.”
I snort. “Sure, man. Until she blinks at you or breathes in your general direction. Little Mack is gonna come out swinging.”
“Facts,” Terry mutters under his breath.
“It’s not little,” Mack grumbles, glaring down at his spaghetti.
“Anyway,” Terry continues, getting a little more serious. “We just gotta keep an eye out. Make sure no drama starts. Hughie was actually pretty intense about it.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s always intense.”