Chapter 19
GRIFFIN
It’s late. I should’ve left a while ago.
Instead, I’m still sitting at Tiana’s parents’ dining room table with a second helping of lasagna while her father argues with JJ about whether pineapple belongs on pizza.
The answer is no.
“Tell JJ he’s wrong,” Devon says, pointing at me.
I glance up from my plate. “I can’t. Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza. Ever.”
“See?” JJ says triumphantly while his father looks defeated.
Across the table, Tiana laughs and reaches for her drink. The sound catches my attention.
Lately, a lot of things about Tiana seem to do that.
I force my focus back to my food, to the conversation, to literally anything else.
Sitting beside JJ, Sylas is completely settled in, talking over everyone as he begins to explain some elaborate plan involving Mario Kart.
Nobody tells him to be quiet or looks annoyed. Tiana’s stepmom asks questions like she’s genuinely interested, and her father nods along as if this is the most important conversation of the night.
It’s been two hours and they’ve somehow folded him into the family.
The strange part is that it doesn’t feel strange.
It almost feels like this is something we’ve done before. Like this is where we’re supposed to be.
The thought makes me take a long drink of water.
My family isn’t like this anymore.
Not because we don’t love each other. But because life just happened.
I moved, my brothers scattered, jobs got bigger and schedules got busier.
Then Lila got sick.
After that, I stopped making much of an effort at all.
People were understanding at first. Then the years started passing.
One became two. Two became five.
Phone calls turned into texts. Texts turned into occasional check-ins.
Not because I stopped caring. Because grief has a way of shrinking your world until you’re only focused on surviving the next day.
I glance around the table.
Everyone is talking over each other: Tiana is arguing with Mya about something, their father is stealing garlic bread when he thinks nobody is looking, their mom is threatening to hide the dessert, and my son is laughing.
Something tight in my chest loosens. Just a little.
My gaze lands on Tiana.
She’s helping Sylas cut his lasagna because he’s too busy talking to pay attention. She doesn’t even seem to realize she’s doing it, as if the gesture is automatic and taking care of people is simply part of who she is.
For weeks, the atmosphere in my house has been changing.
I sleep a little better and I don’t feel quite as anxious or stressed all the time.
And every road leads back to the same person.
The realization should make me happy. Instead, guilt arrives right on schedule.
Every time I start feeling lighter, a voice in the back of my head asks the same questions.
What does it say about me if I’m finally moving forward?
And what does it say about Lila?
I look down at the wedding band still sitting on my finger.
“Okay,” Tiana’s father says suddenly, pointing his fork across the table. “I have a question.”
“Dad,” Tiana warns.
“No, no. I want to know.”
“That’s never a good sign,” Mya mutters.
Her father ignores them both.
“How exactly did my daughter convince you to hire her?”
Tiana groans. “Oh my God.”
“What?” he asks innocently. “It’s a valid question. She once got fired from a lemonade stand.”
“I was eight!”
“You were stealing inventory.”
“I was drinking the lemonade!”
“That’s still theft,” Mya confirms.
The entire table erupts into laughter. Even me.
Tiana drops her face into her hands. “Can we please move on?”
“No. I want to hear the lemonade story,” I say.
“Absolutely not.”
Sylas looks between everyone, eyes wide. “Did TJ go to jail?”
The laughter somehow gets louder.
“No,” Tiana says.
“Were you a criminal?”
“No, Sy,” Tiana responds at the same time as her father says, “Allegedly.”
“Dad.”
I laugh so hard I nearly choke on my drink. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. Long enough that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
And sitting across from me, red-faced from embarrassment while her family roasts her alive, Tiana is laughing too.
I can’t stop looking at her, which is exactly why I force my attention back to my plate.
For the past thirty minutes, I’ve been in my office pretending to work while staring at my phone.
Although Tiana now lives under my roof, I still can’t seem to stop watching her through a screen.
Not even when I see her every morning in those tights and messy buns, and every night when she tiptoes to her room after putting Sy to bed and I catch a view of her round ass peeking under her sleep shorts.
On the days she’s at Willow’s, shooting content, or simply existing somewhere that isn’t at my house, I still catch myself opening that burner account. Just to make sure she’s… fine. Not that I have any right to care.
Tiana doesn’t film anything in front of me or Sylas, but I’ve heard her voice behind her door. She does most of her work either before Sylas wakes up or after he’s asleep and I’ve retreated to my room like a fucking coward.
Some of her followers have started noticing the change in her backdrops. Speculation is that she’s secretly dating someone but doesn’t want to share who.
She hasn’t denied it.
The thought of anyone thinking Tiana’s mine —whether true or not—makes something possessive twist inside my chest and my cock stir in my pants.
I rub my hand over my beard and groan.
Ever since dinner at her parents’ house, keeping my distance has become a hell of a lot harder.
Before that night, it was easy to convince myself this was nothing more than a simple attraction. A bad idea. A temporary lapse in judgment caused by proximity.
Now when I look at Tiana, I don’t just think about how beautiful she is. I think about the way she and her family welcomed Sylas without hesitation. The way they made room for us at the table like we’d been there a hundred times before.
The way my house feels warm and alive in a way it hasn’t in years.
Attraction is manageable. But every day that passes, Tiana feels a little less like a fleeting obsession and a little more like someone who is settling herself into the empty spaces of my life.
And that is infinitely more dangerous.
Safe to say, I’ve been trying to avoid her as much as I can, but it’s hard when you’re living under the same roof.
I linger on her profile, scrolling past photos and videos as if not fully aware of what I’m doing. I’m painfully aware.
I finally drag my attention away long enough and leave my desk to grab coffee from the little cart across the street.
Willow’s is technically closer, and their coffee is infinitely better. I used to avoid the place because it’s always packed with finance bros in quarter-zips yelling into their Airpods like the fate of the stock market depends on their oat milk latte.
But now the real issue is Tiana.
She’s there right now, and there’s absolutely no way I can walk in there and act normal.
As I make my way across the street, I check a new message in the Miller brothers’ group chat.
Worth
Going to Paris on Friday.
I frown. Okay?
Henson
Thanks for the invite, bro.
Worth
I actually need one of you to tag along.
That gets my attention.
What for?
Worth
My wedding.
I stop walking.
Henson
What?
***
Worth
Mya and I decided to elope in Paris, but I need a witness. Who’s free?
A few weeks ago, Worth cornered me in his office and explained his elaborate plan to marry Mya in order to build a stronger case against his ex-wife Vanessa before the custody situation with Brianna got uglier.
At the time, it sounded exactly like something Worth would do: Strategic and mildly unhinged.
What I didn’t realize was that he planned to do it this fast.
Or in fucking Paris.
Honestly, I’m not even surprised Mya somehow agreed to it. That woman has had a crush on Worth since she started at W.H.M., much to her denial. But I can read between the lines.
Henson
Damnit. I could’ve gone for a good croissant this weekend, but no can do. I promised Amira I’d help her with an event.
Worth
Griff?
I stare at the screen for a solid five seconds trying to process whether Worth has finally snapped.
What am I supposed to do with my boy, Worth?
Worth
Maggie can watch Sylas and Brianna for the weekend.
I hesitate before answering.
Tiana hasn’t been working for me for very long, and weekends are usually when she focuses on content creation and brand work and gets some time off from Sy—and me.
I’m almost certain she’d agree to help if I asked her to stay with him while I was gone.
But the idea of imposing that on her feels wrong.
Fine.
When I get back, I head straight for Worth’s office and walk in without knocking.
Worth barely glances up from his laptop. “There’s my best man.”
I shut the door behind me and point at him. “You’ve lost your fucking mind.”
Worth stares at me completely unfazed. The asshole actually looks calm.
“How are you the most emotionally constipated person I know and somehow the first one getting married again?”
Worth leans back in his chair, mouth twitching. “You’re one to talk.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He returns his attention to his laptop. “You just look particularly miserable today.”
“Buzz off.”
“Is this a woman-related misery?”
I hate how quickly my brain flashes to Tiana. I say nothing.
Worth’s smirk deepens. “So it is.”
I drop into the chair across from his desk and drag a hand over my face.
“You’re avoiding the actual issue here.”
“The issue being?” Worth retorts.
“You getting fake-married in another country.”
Worth closes his laptop and exhales, leaning back in his chair.
“Mya needs financial stability and I need the media off my back before Vanessa’s lawyer tries spinning the playboy angle again during custody discussions. Paris is just to sell the whirlwind romance. Nothing is more romantic than the city of love.”
That part makes sense. Worth’s reputation has always been a nightmare for public image.
“Just don’t fall in love with her.”
Worth looks offended. “I’m not stupid. This is for practical reasons.”
I laugh. Worth Miller being emotionally compromised is the funniest thing I’ve experienced all week.
I leave his office a few minutes later and make it halfway down the hallway when I hear, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite grumpy boss.”
I glance up to find Mya heading toward me with an iced coffee in one hand and a stack of folders tucked against her chest.
“I thought that was Worth.”
“He’s a close second,” Mya chimes in.
“Is that so? Even now that you’re actually getting married?”
Flushing a deep scarlet, she stammers, “It’s purely professional. A mutually beneficial arrangement, that’s all.”
I drag out my reply, offering her an entirely skeptical look. “Right.”
“So,” she says, pivoting with a forced air of casualness that signals the exact opposite, “how are things tracking with Tiana?”
My shoulders immediately lock up on instinct. “Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“She’s wonderful with Sylas, and he adores her. So yes, fine.”
Mya locks her gaze on me a beat too long, a knowing grin slowly spreading across her features. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You like her.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Interesting, because your eye just twitched.”
I groan and drag a hand over my face, already regretting this conversation. “Mya—”
“Okay, okay.” She lifts her iced coffee in surrender.
“All jokes aside, I’m really glad Tiana’s there.
She’s been... lighter.” Mya leans against the wall beside me.
“TJ cares a lot about how people perceive her. Probably more than she should. She’s always felt like she had to perform a perfect version of herself for everyone. ”
I think of Tiana filming content late at night behind her bedroom door. The influencer voice she slips into sometimes.
“But lately,” Mya continues. “She seems more like herself again. More comfortable and grounded.” A small smile pulls at her mouth. “I haven’t seen her this relaxed in a really long time.”
My chest tugs, because if I’m being honest, I’ve felt it too.
Since Tiana moved in, it’s as if parts of me I buried with Lila started breathing a little again. The realization unsettles me enough that I immediately shove it down.
“She’s been good for Sylas,” I repeat instead.
Mya notices the deflection but lets it go.
“I hope he’ll take it well when she leaves,” I add.
Her brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
“When Tiana buys Willow’s, she’s not going to have time or the need to be a nanny. She won’t be living with us anymore.”
Even saying it leaves a strange heaviness in my chest. The thought of Tiana leaving my house feels almost painful.
Mya stares at me for a second, then the corner of her mouth lifts in another smirk.
“Who says she has to be your nanny to live with you?”
I blink. “Mya.”
“What?” She shrugs innocently. “I’m just saying. She’s already moved in…”
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, it already started.” Mya grins. “You’re just late catching up.”
@tianawithlove
can I ask you something random?
@built2last
You usually do.
@tianawithlove
be serious for one second
@built2last
Okay.
@tianawithlove
have you ever met someone at the wrong time?
@built2Last
I think sometimes you can meet the right person while still being the wrong version of yourself.
@tianawithlove
that’s… heartbreaking.
@built2last
Probably because it’s true.
@tianawithlove
you say weirdly emotional things for someone whose profile looks like a divorced carpenter.
@built2last
That’s wildly specific.
@tianawithlove
and accurate
@built2last
I’m not divorced.
@tianawithlove
defensive much?
@built2last
Just correcting misinformation, Trouble.
@tianawithlove
trouble?
@built2last
You heard me.
@tianawithlove
I’m not trouble. maybe you’re just too careful.
@built2last
Careful keeps things from falling apart.
@tianawithlove
careful keeps things from being fun…
@built2last
Is that what you are? Fun?
@tianawithlove
among other dangerous qualities
@built2last
Trouble, then.
@tianawithlove
fine. I can live with that, stranger who pretends they don’t like talking to me.
@built2last
I never said I didn’t like talking to you.
@tianawithlove
that almost sounded honest.
okay but serious question…
if someone does meet the right person at the wrong time… what are they supposed to do?
@built2last
Probably something smarter than what they want to do.
@tianawithlove
and what if they can’t?
@built2last
Then people get hurt.
@tianawithlove
you always sound like you’re trying to convince yourself of something.
@built2last
Maybe I am.