15. Griffin
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GRIFFIN
“ S on of a bitch,” I cringe when Darius Clayton, our athletic trainer, peels off the bandages I begged him to wrap around my left wrist so I could get back out to the game. He wasn’t in favor of my returning to the game, but there was no way in hell I was going to miss the last couple minutes when we were still down by one point.
Not that it mattered anyway.
We lost.
I guess we can’t win them all but then again yes, we fucking can.
And we should.
Darius whistles, taking a quick look at the result of getting sliced by a skate blade. “Yeah that’s going to hurt for a few days. Let me get this cleaned up and then it’s going to need a few stitches.”
He takes his time cleaning the wound and then numbs it a little before he starts stitching.
“Hey Griff, you all right, man?” August raps on the open door to the exam room.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Scared me there for a minute.”
“You’re telling me.” I huff a laugh. “If I had my head down any lower he could’ve gotten my fucking neck.”
It’s the first thing I thought of when Chetlikov’s skate made contact with my skin. It didn’t hurt the moment it happened, but once I was able to tell myself it was just my wrist and not my neck, reality snapped back into place and it hurt like a fucking bitch. Once I got off the ice, I took one look at Darius in the tunnel and told him to wrap as much gauze around it as he could as fast as he could because I needed to get back out there. Stephens grabbed me a new pair of gloves and a fresh jersey, helped me out of my bloodied one and into a new one and off I went.
“August?” a female’s voice rings out from outside the door. “How’s Griffin? Do you know?” August leans out and gestures with his head in my direction. “Hey babe. He’s in here.”
Ella leans her head in, the rest of her still in her costume, her forehead creased with worry. “Hey! Heard you got cut. You okay?”
“Nothing my man Darius here can’t fix.”
Ella brings her hand to her chest. “Phew! I didn’t get to see what happened. Just heard you got hurt. Glad you’re okay.” Her smile grows and her brows wag. “Guess your wife’s going to have to take great care of you now, huh?”
“Hmm.” I grin. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think I can use my arm much so…yeah I think I’m going to need her help.”
“Ella!”
Speak of the devil…
I’d know Scarlett’s voice anywhere. And my guess is, where there’s a Scarlett, there’s a Layken.
“Have you seen Griffin yet? His wife is hella-worried about him.”
“Oh, my God, you guys,” my wife scoffs, but I can hear the tremble in her voice. “I am not hella-worried.”
Always trying to be the brave one.
I take one look at Darius and quickly say, “Whatever I’m about to do, just go with it.”
Darius doesn’t even get to respond before I’m screaming from the exam room. “Ah, fuck! That fucking hurts!”
“I know man.” Darius nods immediately playing along. “Just a few more. I’m sorry Griff. They fucked up your arm bad!”
Layken comes shooting around the corner and into the exam room, her eyes wide with panic. “Griffin? Oh, my God! Are you okay?”
Darius looks up at my gorgeous wife and tells her, “I’m stitching it up so you can say goodbye, but in my professional opinion, I think it’s going to have to be chopped.”
She stares at Darius unreactive and then cocks her head, glances down to where he’s putting stitches in my wrist, and then looks up at my face.
And then she whacks my other arm.
“Son of a fucking bitch, Griffin Ollenberg! I thought you were seriously hurt!”
Everyone laughs. Even Layken breaks a smile but she shakes her head pissed that she fell for my bullshit. “I hate you all.”
“Aww, don’t be mad, Naughty.” I pull her in and kiss her temple. “It was very sweet of you to worry, but I’m good. Just a scratch.”
“A scratch?” she repeats, eyeing my stitches. “Somehow I think it’s a little more than just a scratch.”
“Don’t worry.” I lift my good hand. “I wipe my ass right-handed so all is well.”
That gets her to laugh. “Thank God for that.”
“All good, Griff,” Darius tells me as he wraps my stitches in a plastic bandage. “You’re good to shower but try to keep it from getting soaked if you can for the first twenty-four hours or so. After that…” I give Darius a glaring look that hopefully says Dude, help a brother out! And then he clears his throat, his eyes moving between Layken and me, and changes his tune. “Actually, you’re good to shower now with this on, but keep your arm outside the water. Once you’re at home though,” he says, looking straight at Layken, “he may need a little help. It really is best to keep the stitches as dry as possible.”
Yep.
That’s what I needed to hear.
And that’s what I needed my wife to hear too.
Before she can even argue with his suggestive instructions, I jump down from the exam table with a hearty, “Will do, boss,” and grab Layken’s hand, ignoring any possible perturbed eyeroll she might be giving the both of us.
“That Chetlikov was an asshole,” Ledger says, tipping back his small glass of whiskey. Not wanting to go out after the game, the team traveled back to the hotel where food was waiting for us. We chowed down on steak, baked potatoes, and salads and then some of us decided to grab a much-needed drink in the hotel’s bar. Lucky for us, this bar isn’t the ritzy type with fancy seats and a stuffy atmosphere. This one is very much a relaxed sports bar with screens everywhere showing different sporting events from women’s basketball to hockey to downhill skiing. There’s a group sitting quietly in the corner booth, dressed up and likely coming from some sort of event, and there’s a group of louder drinkers at a table behind us. I’m guessing they’re college guys. Maybe a collegiate sports team of some sort.
The ladies wanted to change before coming down for a drink so I came down ahead of them with Bodhi, Harrison, August, and Ledger. Bear’s off sulking somewhere since he tends to take our losses as a personal fail on his part, and Oliver is helping Scarlett with one of her vlogs.
“No kidding,” Harrison says with a nod, replying to Ledger. “And honestly, Henning wasn’t much better. Those guys were brutal. Much more so today than I remember them being in the past.”
“Henning was just out to prove himself to the organization,” Bodhi tells us, his arm resting on the back of Corrigan’s chair at the bar. “They were talking about trading him and I don’t think he wants to go. He likes it in Boulder.”
“Yeah I heard that too,” August says. “And I guess it doesn’t surprise me that they upped their game this time around. Remember how much we kicked their asses last time?”
I chuckle. “Wasn’t it like six nil the last time we played them?”
August nods. “Yep. Most boring game I’ve ever played I think. And they didn’t have Chetlikov last time.”
Movement to my right has me turning my head to find the ladies finally walking into the bar. Next to Ella, Layken looks adorably casual yet incredibly sexy in her black leggings and pink cropped sweater that hangs off her shoulder. I stare at the part of her shoulder peeking out from the fabric wishing I could lean down and run my tongue across it. She flicks her hair back behind her and I imagine myself wrapping the long silky strands around my hand and giving it a tug from behind her.
“Dude,” August murmurs next to me. “You’ve got it bad.”
I tip back the rest of my drink. “What?”
He laughs. “You’ve got the words I-want-her written across your forehead in big bold print.”
“Psst, hey,” Harrison leans forward beside August and says to me, “I don’t know what August just said to you, but if it wasn’t something about how very obviously attracted you are to your wife, then can you pretend I said those words to you just now?”
Bodhi raises his hand. “Ditto that.”
I glance back and forth between my friends. “What the fuck, guys?”
Ledger glances down the row at me and cocks his head. “Dude. Griff. Don’t deny it.” He smiles and huffs a soft laugh. “It’s obvious. It was obvious in the locker room before tonight’s game and it’s even more obvious now.”
They’re right.
I know they’re right.
There’s no use denying it.
I haven’t done the best job trying to hide it.
“Fuck.” I run my hand through my hair, continuing to watch Layken as she laughs with the ladies while they order their drinks on the other side of the bar. Her big brown eyes find mine and somehow they pull me in like she’s some magical mystical being and I’m her prey. “I’m attracted to my wife.”
August pats me on the back. “Yeah man, we know.”
“Yeah, but I’m…” I sigh. “I’m really fucking attracted to her.”
“Nothing wrong with that, Griff,” Bodhi adds.
Ledger lifts his hand to one of the bartenders and then slides his empty glass onto the bar asking for another. “Does she know?”
Uh…
I shrug my shoulder. “Honestly I don’t know. I mean I try to say things around her but then I get fucking nervous because I don’t want to say the wrong thing but also I’m me, you know?” I bring a hand to my chest. “I’m good at flirting. I used to pick up women on the regular and now…since the day she knocked on my door looking like this pathetically sad, but fucking adorable person, she’s the only one I’ve wanted. The only female I’ve thought about in…weeks? A month?” I shrug again. “I don’t know. However long it’s been since she literally walked into my life.”
Bodhi shakes his head. “She feels the same, man. I can promise you that.”
“How the hell do you know that though?”
“Well first of all, we all saw the way she was looking at you in the locker room today,” he recounts.
August adds, “Plus the way she was so worried about you after the game.”
That was pretty fucking cute.
“And lastly,” Bodhi says, “Corrigan told me as much while you guys were giving each other googly eyes in the locker room. I just didn’t have the time to talk to you about it and I knew we needed to focus on the game.”
“So, it’s a thing then?” I ask him point blank, my brows arching in anticipation. “She’s interested? She likes me?”
He nods grinning at me. “It’s a thing. She’s into you, man. She just hasn’t said the words yet.”
Thank you Jesus!
Let’s go!
A wave of renewed confidence comes over me and I stand a little taller. “Well…all right then. This changes everything.”
August cocks a brow. “It does?”
“Yep.” I nod, watching her across the bar. “If my wife wants to play, I’ll play.”
Once the ladies have their drinks, they make their way around the bar. August, Bodhi, and I have empty chairs available in front of us for the ladies to sit in, but as Layken steps toward her awaiting seat, a man moves in front of her.
“Hey,”
Who the fuck is this guy?
Layken acknowledges the man and smiles. “Hi.”
My gut instinct is to go ape-shit alpha on this guy talking to my wife. I can absolutely be the douchey she-belongs-to-me-type but she makes eye contact with me enough to let me know she’s got this under control.
I know you do, Naughty.
And if you don’t, I’m right here.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, you’ve got the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen. Can I buy you a drink?”
What the fuck?
That’s not how you do it buddy.
Plus that’s my wife you’re hitting on.
I take another sip of my beer listening to this play out, having no idea how Layken is going to respond.
Her brows arch. “Oh. You like my ass?”
The guy nods. “It’s a beautiful ass.”
She brings a hand to his cheek and smiles kindly. “Aww. That’s so sweet of you. Thank you. I keep poop in there.”
August, Bodhi, and I nearly choke on our drinks, mine dribbling down my chin hearing Layken’s response. Corrigan and Ella look on in shock.
Oh shit!
She did not just say that!
Layken lifts her glass and tells him, “And I already have a drink, but thanks for offering. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to join my husband,” she says, enunciating the word clearly. She winks at the guy. “He likes my ass too and he gets to enjoy it any time he wants.”
Any other time I would be hanging on her every word about the things I could do to that perfect little ass she has, but this time, her words hit me differently. This time hundreds of emotions swirl inside my brain in response to two simple words.
My husband.
I’d like to join my husband.
She said husband.
She didn’t say her friends.
She said husband.
As if we’ve been together for years.
It just rolled right off her tongue.
She claimed me.
She chose me.
The guy pivots and makes eye contact with me, his face turning a deep shade of red when he sees me standing so close. I lift my chin to acknowledge first that I know what he just did to my wife, and second, that I just watched her put him in his goddamn place all by herself.
My wife is fucking badass and I’m literally swooning over her right now.
He doesn’t say a word, but admits defeat and nods respectively, his hands rising in defense before he retreats back to his seat.
When he walks away, Layken steps over to me rolling her eyes and chuckling at what just transpired. “Well, that was something, huh?”
Corrigan laughs and tells her, “Told you your ass looked amazing in those leggings.”
Everyone gives her well-deserved kudos, but all I can do is stare at her, expressionless.
My chest is tight and my pulse is racing and I’m finding it hard to swallow. All I can think about right now is what it would feel like to kiss her right here, right now.
I’d like to join my husband.
The urge to claim her hits me like a freight train and it’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to kiss the hell out of her in the middle of this bar in front of everyone.
She takes a sip of her martini and then winks at me before realizing I’m not smiling.
Bringing a hand to my chest, her grin fades and her eyes widen.
“Hey, you okay?” When I don’t answer, because I can’t think of the appropriate words in my head, she goes on. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know he was…” She cocks her head, worried. “Oh, my God, did I say something wrong?”
“No.” I shake my head, willing myself to smile at her, but I’m so fucking taken by her, I can’t make my body do any of the things I want it to do. So instead, I force a deep breath and then weakly turn up my lips. “No. Not mad.”
“Then what is it?”
I want you.
I think I love you.
You’re perfect for me.
I want to kiss you.
Touch you.
Taste you.
Claim you.
Anything to just be with you.
I take a few more breaths, each one shorter than the last, as I try to decide what to say and how to say it, and then I grab her hand because I can’t do this here. “Come with me.”
I hand my glass to a bewildered Bodhi and tug Layken behind me as I walk out of the bar and around the first corner I come to where the area is vacant.
“Griffin, I?—”
I swing around and back her up against the wall, my hips pressing into hers, our foreheads touching. One of my hands grasps her hip, my thumb feathering against the bare skin of her abdomen that peeks out of her cropped sweater. My other hand in her hair, my fingers wrapped around several soft strands.
“What’s going on?” She whimpers, her eyes trying to read mine. “Griffin, you’re scaring?—"
“I’m going to kiss you Layken,” I blurt softly before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“I…I need to kiss you. N” I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to put the words together correctly in my head so I they come out right when I say them out loud. “No, I want to kiss you. But I didn’t want to do it in there.”
Her shoulders fall. “Wh-why not?”
Pulling my hand from her hair, I cup her cheek coaxing her gaze to mine. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was doing it just because people were watching. I’m not kissing you for them. I don’t want to kiss you for show. And I don’t give two shits about that guy in there because you did a damn fine job of putting him in his place and sending him on his way.” I gaze at her dumbfounded and in complete awe. “You chose me,” I say, a bit flabbergasted.
“You’re my husband,” she answers with nervous laughter. “Of, course I chose you.”
“But you didn’t have to,” I try to explain, knowing I’m word-vomiting and probably getting it all wrong. “I mean, you could have…we’re not…but we are…we never said…fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I get so fucking flustered when it comes to you. But I care about you and I’ve wanted to kiss you, like really fucking kiss you, for a long time. So, I’m going to kiss you because you chose me and I’m your husband and you are one hundred percent my smoking hot wife and,” I breathe, “because I fucking want to.”
She smiles, amused, and nods. “Okay.”
“Wait…” I back up a step and stare into her heated brown eyes. “Okay? Did you just say okay?”
She nods once. “I said okay.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
She’s giving me permission.
Right here in this hallway.
I know I should do this in a more private place.
I want to do it in a more private place.
But also, she’s giving me fucking permission and if I don’t shoot my shot now, she may not give me another chance.
My hand slips from her hip around to her perfect little ass holding her against me as she lifts her chin, her eyes closing in anticipation. Never in a million years will I be the guy who disappoints her, so I lean my head down and excitedly connect my lips to hers.
Her mouth is soft and warm. Her lips sweet, like the fruity martini she’s been sipping. She curls her fingers against my chest, grabbing the material of my shirt like she fucking owns me, and hell…who am I kidding? She fucking owns me.
Her mouth parts and her tongue sneaks out and holy hell this woman can fucking slay me with the way she kisses. Wishing I could show that dumbass motherfucker in the bar who Layken belongs to, I take control of this kiss, pulling her against me as tightly as possible and dipping my tongue into her mouth. I sweep it across her lips and she meets me stroke for stroke. A spark of electricity shoots through my body and I moan against her as if I need her air to breathe. She groans into my mouth in response and suddenly my brain is an onslaught of one dirty thought after another. And then just as fast as I started this kiss, I force myself to pull back and end it.
Do not get a boner in the hotel lobby.
Watching Layken open her eyes though, I internally smile when I see how pink her cheeks are.
And how her chest rises and falls a bit quicker now.
And the fiery look in her enlarged pupils.
Hell yeah.
She’s turned on .
“Well,” she says, touching her swollen lips and gazing up at me, “if there’s any doubt who I belong to now, then someone’s not paying attention.”
I’m not sure if her statement is about the guy who came on to her or if she’s referring to me not picking up on her clues. Either way, it’s fine.
I’m good.
“Do you ever have those times where you feel like nobody sees you? Like no matter what you do or how hard you work nobody notices?”
Layken’s words from her very first night with me float back in my mind as I stare into her enchanting chocolate-colored eyes.
“What if I’m paying attention now, Naughty?” I rub my nose gently against hers. “What if I see you?”
She bites the corner of her bottom lip and glances up at me with a heated, wanting look in her eyes. “I want you to see all of me, Griffin.”
Dear baby Jesus, please tell me that means what I think it means.