Chapter 27 Griffin
Griffin
Griffin isn’t sure there are words to describe what he just witnessed from Aria in her studio.
There are people who are put on earth with very specific talents, and there isn’t a single doubt that Aria is made to create music.
The media focuses on what she’s wearing, which events she attends, how much fans are willing to fork over for tickets to her most desirable shows.
She is made into social media memes weekly, and her fashion choices are constantly making lists.
When there’s distance, it’s easy to make it all about the superficial.
But what Griffin just witnessed blows all of that out of the water.
Aria makes her own music like a baker makes their goods from scratch.
Despite rumors—ones Griffin never believed, mind you—Aria isn’t propped up by a team of behind-the-scenes writers and musicians who carry the real talent. She is a powerhouse from front to back.
When she turns to look at him, the wooded landscape past the patio frames her, and leaves fall in the trees as if announcing her presence.
Aria is always beautiful, but today, up close and with her truest self on display—talents, fears, passion—she is gorgeous.
The sunshine filters through the leaves and highlights her as if giving her a full-body halo.
Aria pulls in a deep breath. “The fresh air always feels good on a day like this.”
She rubs her arms, as if feeling the chill, despite her eagerness to get outside, and wanders the small patio. Griffin thinks about going to her and wrapping an arm around her. He isn’t wearing a jacket, or he’d offer it.
Aria stops at the edge of the patio and looks out into the thicket of trees. “Thanks for coming today.”
“Thanks for . . .” Aria has brought so much good to his life in the past weeks, it’s hard to know what Griffin should thank her for, but undoubtedly there’s a list. “Honestly, thank you for reminding me that there’s more to life than just football.”
Aria whips around, her eyes bright with surprise. “Yeah? I thought I was just pointing out the obvious.”
Griffin’s face breaks into a smile. “Sometimes my hyper focus helps with the game, but all of us guys have that ticking time clock, knowing that eventually our time on the field will end. You’ve shown me just how much there is out there. You’ve made me consider that I might have more to offer too.”
Aria closes the gap between them, gives his arm a friendly squeeze, and says, “Well, without your belief in me, what just happened in there wouldn’t have been a thing. Guess we’re a pretty good team after all.”
“Don’t tell Kelsey, or she’ll have a camera crew start following us behind the scenes.”
Aria throws back her head and laughs, and an ache to hold her runs through him.
Griffin can’t help himself. He reaches out and places his arms around her. “You were incredible in there, Aria. It blows my mind.”
Aria drops her gaze bashfully, and Griffin detects a pinkness rising in her cheeks. “It’s nice to share it with someone. There aren’t that many people I can trust.”
Griffin thinks of his own experiences with fame, the opportunists that’ve come his way.
At least he can easily find friendship and shared experiences with teammates to whom he has little to offer besides friendship.
But Aria is solo. What an extraordinary stroke of luck it’s been for him not only to have gotten to be close to Aria off script but also to get to know her, get to know the parts that stay hidden.
He’s not one of a sea of friends as he’d assumed; he’s one of a few in a small circle.
“I know the whole ‘number one fan’ thing is a joke, but know that I do genuinely admire what you’re doing. Thank you for trusting me.”
Aria’s hands run from Griffin’s arms to his back, and she draws closer.
Every inch of her that touches him is a sensation more intense than being tackled by a defensive player, like his nerves go haywire only for her.
As if he’s programmed to desire her. Griffin’s breath deepens, and he can’t pull his eyes away from hers.
He desperately wants to kiss this woman.
Not only because of how she mesmerizes him, but more so because of the fact that she’s let him in, behind her walls, and who she is behind them eclipses even her brightest concert act. Being next to her might be the best Griffin has felt in years.
She is absolute magic.
Aria looks up at him, and she floats closer. “You are easy to trust, Griff.”
In her blue eyes is an intensity Griffin hasn’t seen before, a vibrance that comes from within.
“The things about me—growing up and the unknowns of the future—aren’t things I talk to people about either. My friends are my teammates, and we talk workouts, nutrition, and sometimes grab the occasional game of laser tag.”
Aria’s mouth lifts into a smile at the corners.
“I guess that’s my way of saying I trust you too.”
Their faces are held mere inches away from one another, and Griffin’s heart is pounding so hard he can hear the blood rushing through him.
He lowers his face, and as Aria’s lips part, he reaches a hand up, places a single finger under her chin, and brings her face to his.
The rest of the world falls away, and Griffin’s every fiber is focused on Aria’s warm mouth wrapped in his.
He can’t be sure, but this just might be what falling for someone feels like in real time.