CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR #3
“It was my pleasure. Forget anything I said about dating apps. Go marry that man now,” she says with an extra squeeze. Then she begins heading for her car. “Bye, Griffin! Nice to meet you! Keep being excellent and posing as a delivery man on occasion.”
Griffin joins me at the door of the storage unit, waving after Becca. Once she’s driven away, he looks down at me.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you too, Case.” He grabs my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “More than I can even handle.”
“How much time do you have before you have to leave?” I ask.
“About two hours,” he admits with a laugh.
“Driving thirteen hours for only two hours with me.” I shake my head. “The math doesn’t add up.”
“It does, though.” He bends at the knees and scoops me up behind my legs, hoisting me against him. Our classic koala bear pose. I giggle and wrap my arms around his neck. “All I needed was time with my girl before I left, and I got it. Makes perfect sense.”
“You’re too sweet,” I murmur, brushing my nose against his.
“Do you forgive me?” he asks softly, squeezing the backs of my thighs.
I nod, warmth blooming inside me. I love this man so much I could explode. “I could never stay mad at you. Especially not after you orchestrated a fake delivery with both our sisters.”
He grins shyly. “How else was I supposed to find out where you were? I had to cover my bases.”
“Always controlling the outcome,” I murmur.
“I’ve had a lot of practice.” He places a soft kiss against my lips. “Now where do you need me most for the next two hours? In this storage unit…or inside you?”
A laugh bursts out of me. “That is an impossible question. I need both. But the moving truck is arriving first thing tomorrow morning…”
Griffin grunts, releasing me so I slide down his front. “It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but I’ll accept it. Only because I know I’ll get you in a week.”
“Me and this blob couch,” I say, tipping my head toward it. “If you’ll have it.”
“You can put that thing anywhere you want, in any house of mine.” He kisses the top of my head. “You have the keys, so you pick where it goes.”
“Now you’ve given me too much power.”
His grin stretches wider. “I’m okay giving up a little control like this. Just for you.”
Griffin helps me for the next two hours, with plenty of pauses for quick kisses, full-blown make-out sessions, and even a heated hump-a-thon on the blob couch that ended up in an unexpected orgasm. Griffin calls it my parting gift, but I’m not sure who enjoyed it more, me or Griffin.
By the time his Chicago visit has come to an end, I’ve got things mostly squared away in here. Between him and Becca, I’m ready to move back to Bayshore. Officially.
“One more week,” he whispers into my ear during a long, final hug.
“Mmmm. One more week.” I prop my chin on his chest and look up at him. “Would it make more sense for me to stick around Cleveland during your season?”
He tilts his head, stroking his fingers along my jaw. “I want you to choose whatever makes sense for you. For your TikTok career, for Brews on the Bay, for all of it.”
“I can always stay in Bayshore on the nights you’re gone if my bar shifts line up,” I tell him. “And on nights you’re around, I’ll just commute to Brews from Cleveland. If I’m working only a couple shifts per week, the drive won’t be that bad.”
His grin starts to grow bigger. “That makes sense.”
“And I can set up my recording equipment anywhere,” I go on. “Record in Cleveland during the season, then back to Bayshore during the summer. Or even have recording equipment in both places.”
He nods, his eyes sparkling. “I’m liking this more by the second.”
“The only thing is I’ll need to set up a library of sorts in both places,” I say, frowning. “My plan is to have a dedicated book space so I can have the books backdrop.”
“I just so happen to have a spare room in each of my places,” Griffin says. “So consider it done.”
“You’d let me turn your spare rooms into my book havens?” If I wasn’t in love with him before, I am now. There have never been sexier words.
“Forever. And I’ll build you the bookcases. Whatever you need, Case.” He brushes a kiss against my lips.
“Well, that sentence alone was the equivalent of a marriage proposal, and I accept,” I tell him. “By the way, I’m coming to all of your home games.”
“Wearing my jersey,” he prompts.
“Wearing your jersey. Now go catch your flight. I’ll see you in Cleveland next week.”
He kisses me once more—slow, passionate—and finally detaches himself and heads toward the truck. I stand in the gravel, waving and watching him go, until he pulls into the fray of the city.
I turn back to my storage unit, the relative quiet overcoming me as an effervescent well of happiness burbles inside of me.
For the first time in potentially my entire adult life, things feel perfect. Despite the fact that there is a technical mess surrounding me and ahead of me—the move logistics, building a new business, figuring out my life from here, navigating an actual relationship…
Holy shit.
I’m living the life of my dreams.
And it’s perfect despite the messiness.