Chapter 13 #2
He smells like cedar and soap and something warm and masculine that makes my knees feel unreliable. I bury my face in the collar without meaning to, inhale, and instantly regret it.
“Dammit,” I mumble, fisting the fabric away from my face.
I brush my teeth to distract myself, wash my face, and then take a long, grounding breath before unlocking the door.
I crawl into bed, tugging the blankets up.
For a second, Griffin’s scent clings to me and tries to drag me right back into the inconvenient sensations I had all damn day.
The awareness, heat, and the stupid flutter in my chest whenever he looked at me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and force the air out of my lungs.
I have real goals, ones that actually matter. I didn’t wake up this morning to get distracted by a grumpy, gorgeous single dad with forearms I shouldn’t be thinking about.
I came here for Sylas, and my future.
So I shake off everything and refocus.
From now on, I’m keeping my head on straight.
The only attention Griffin Hayes will be getting from me is the kind that keeps him on his toes. Terrorizing him a little might even be fun.
I roll onto my side, close my eyes, and let the storm outside drown out the storm inside.
“Where were you last night, missy?”
I nearly jump out of my skin and let out a shriek as I stumble backward, clutching my chest. “What the fuck—Jesus Christ, Mom!”
“Language, Tiana!” my step mom scolds, barely holding in her laughter.
I glare at her silhouette at the kitchen table. “Why are you sitting in the dark at six in the morning like a creep?”
“Stop dodging my question, TJ,” she says, sounding far too pleased with herself.
I set my tote bag down on the table and sit across from her. She slides a mug of coffee to me. “Here. I just made it.”
Usually, I don’t like drinking my coffee black, but this morning, I need fuel. I spent the entire night tossing and turning, not able to settle down because of Griffin-freaking-Hayes.
Apart from the fact that he’s now my employer, I vowed to stay away from men for a while, especially after how things ended with my ex.
And Griffin is way too old for me to even consider the possibility.
My stepmom gets up to make herself another cup, and I decide to just blurt it out. “I’m moving out.”
She freezes mid-step, then slowly turns to face me. “You’re what?”
“Temporarily,” I add quickly. “I got offered a job as a live-in nanny. That’s where I came from this morning.”
Mom rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “And here I thought I could live vicariously through you.”
That makes me laugh. “Does my dad not offer you enough entertainment?”
She scoffs. “Your father is becoming more and more of an old man.”
“Hey! I heard that,” my dad calls as he walks into the kitchen.
“Hi, Devon,” she says, innocently. He crosses the room and presses a kiss to her forehead, and she closes her eyes, leaning into it like it’s her favorite part of the day.
I smile, something warm tightening in my chest.
Seeing my dad happy still gets to me, even after all these years.
When he met Hazel, a few years after losing my mom, I was only four years old, so I don’t recall much from back then—but I kind of remember the change in him. The way he softened. The way he smiled more.
Hazel had lost her husband a couple of years earlier, and somehow, they found each other in the middle of all that grief. They helped each other through it, piece by piece, until it turned into something more.
A relationship I’ve always looked up to.
I’ve known Hazel for so long that she’s the only mother I really remember. It didn’t take long before I started calling her Mom, and she’s never treated me like anything less than her own daughter.
I gained a sister from another mister and, along the way, a little brother I love more than anything.
I’m biased, but… We’re the perfect kind of a messy, blended family.
“What’s this I hear of my middle child moving out?”
I feign insult. “Dad! How many times do I have to tell you that I do not have middle child syndrome.”
He hums, unconvinced, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. “Sounds like something a middle child would say.”
“Wow. Betrayed in my own home,” I mutter, taking another sip of coffee.
“So,” he says, turning back to me, leaning casually against the counter, a slightly, almost sad smile pulling at his lips. “You’re moving out?”
“Temporarily,” I repeat, glancing between him and Mom. “It’s a live-in nanny position for a single father. The hours actually work well with my schedule at Willow’s.”
Mom returns to the table, fresh mug in hand, settling into her chair like she’s preparing for a full interrogation. “And he just let you stay over on the first night?”
“It was the storm,” I say, shrugging. “It got late.”
My dad studies me a little more closely than I’d like. “This family… They’re good people?”
“Yeah,” I answer quickly. “Yeah, they are.”
Griffin’s face flashes in my mind—stern, controlled, frustratingly attractive—and I take another sip of coffee to cover it.
Mom watches me over the rim of her mug. “And the father?”
I choke slightly. “What about him?”
“You said he’s a single dad, right?”
I narrow my eyes. “Yes… and before you ask—no. Nothing like that.”
“I didn’t say anything,” she replies innocently.
“You didn’t have to.”
Mom and Dad share a look.
I immediately regret telling them anything. “What?”
“Nothing,” my dad says, lips twitching.
Mom leans forward slightly. “And you’re sure this is what you want?”
I glance down at my coffee, then back up at them. “It’s not forever. It just helps with money for Willow’s. You both know how long I’ve been waiting for this opportunity.”
My dad nods slowly. “Then we support you.”
Mom reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Always.”
The knot in my chest loosens just a little.
“Thank you.”
There’s a beat, then my step mom tilts her head, eyes gleaming again. “But if he hurts you—”
“Mom.”
“I’m just saying.”
“He’s not dangerous.”
Dad chimes in. “You’ve known him for like twelve hours.”
“Plenty of time to form a first impression.”
“Even the most innocent people can turn out to be dangerous,” my mom adds.
I groan, dropping my head into my hands. “I cannot live like this.”
Dad laughs. “Good thing you’re moving out, then.”
I peek up at him. “You’re both insufferable.”
Mom grins. “And yet, you’ll miss us.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling, even if part of me feels like everything is about to change in ways I’m not ready for.