10. Julie
Julie
“What sets you apart can sometimes feel like a burden and it’s not. And a lot of the time, it’s what makes you great.” – Emma Stone
“ M orning, little J.”
“Morning, Griff. You want the usual?”
“Yes, please.” Griffin smiles, passing me his card for payment.
It’s been two weeks since he’s been over at my place, and every morning since Griffin comes by Sip of Love, orders one medium cherry-vanilla mushroom coffee and a croissant and leaves until I see him again the following morning.
Occasionally, he'll stop by at the end of the day with one of my favorite orders.
It’s become a routine of his and no matter how many times I try to tell my heart to simmer down or we’ll get burned by the steam machine again, it refuses to listen, instead opting out to jump and flutter excitedly with anticipation of his visit.
I know I shouldn’t feel like that. Especially not when there’s another man in my life, but try telling that to the rascal organ. Try reasoning with my lips that still feel his.
“How was your shift yesterday?”
“It was good. I think I might be up for saving some kittens any of these days,” he says with a small tilt to his lips. The one that does so much darn damage to my insides.
“Don’t let Fanny hear you say that.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because when Noah started working there a few years back she called in every time he was on duty, complaining of smelling smoke.” I give him a look.
“There was no smoke. Ever. But Noah left her house rosy-cheeked every time.” I can’t help my giggle.
That poor boy did not know how to handle our local wild cat.
And by the looks of it, Griffin would be just as clueless.
Then I burst out laughing.
“Please tell me that didn’t go the way my mind played it out?”
“That depends.” I smirk. “What did your mind come up with?”
“Something between three years and life in prison. Can you imagine Fanny in prison?” He gets that pensive look as if he’s seriously considering that scenario and I’m barely holding it together over here.
“The whole place would dance the ‘Macarena’ by the end of day one while wearing those horrendous, neon tracksuits. I can totally see it.” He shudders.
Anddddd I lose it. “Sweet daisies, stop making me laugh or I’ll never finish your coffee.”
Griffin flashes me his charming, sheepish smile. “But I like making you laugh,” he says, totally oblivious to the flutters he sets off inside my body as those words slip past my defenses into the realm of dreams I kept under lock and key.
To be fair, it’s a flimsy lock these days what with him testing it each and every time.
I’ve only ever seen him like this with the girls he dated. Never with me. Griffin never talked to me like this.
Yet I bite down on the inside of my cheek and shake my head. More to clear my own train of thought rather than at his comment.
Owen. I’m seeing Owen.
Not that I’ve actually gone on a date with him in over a week, but that’s not the point right now. What is though is that I shouldn’t allow those flutters in.
“Fanny might be a little nuts, but not that far gone. Yet. She would find any way to feel up his arms for the most part and I believe once there was a slap on his butt. The guys from the station were making fun of him for flashing his abs at the grandma.”
“Oh God. Do not mention my progress to Fanny!”
“Too late, charming” comes from behind Griffin, and while I’m hit with another bout of laughter, Griff pales.
“She’s behind me, isn’t she?”
I nod, pressing my hand to my mouth as he silently curses.
“We can get acquainted with those cheeks out of the way right here and now,” Fanny says, and when I peer over Griffin’s shoulder, she shoots me a wink as she ogles his behind.
Can’t blame you, Fanny. It is a wonderful ass . I sigh wistfully—on the inside, of course.
“On that note…” Griffin snatches the cup out of my hands and races out the door, leaving his croissant and his card behind.
Fanny tsks. “So fragile these days. Can’t even take a joke.”
“Oh, Fanny.” I shake my head at her. “Please never change.”
“Have no intention of doing that.” She winks again. “Get me one of your tonics, sunshine. I’m feeling rather damp this morning.”
“Coming right up.”
The morning rush hits us right after Fanny leaves, but my eyes keep darting out to the croissant and the card Griffin left in his haste to run away from the tiny grandma.
“Lia, you mind if I slip away for a few? A customer from earlier forgot the rest of his order and his card here.”
“Nope, I can handle it down here.”
Without waiting for another beat, I grab the things and head out the door into the chilly morning, drawing my floor-length, knit cardigan closed over the green crop top and skirt combo I put on this morning.
Griffin doesn’t do full twenty-four-hour shifts yet while he’s still training. Instead, he’s there every day from morning to evening.
This is just a friendly gesture, nothing more , I tell myself—or rather, to contradict the butterflies in my stomach.
Somehow, in the span of three weeks, Griffin Owling made me fall right back into my dreams without doing much at all. But it’s not like he ever tried all that hard to make me fall in love with him back when we were kids.
He never needed to do anything. It was just him, just Griffin who called out to my heart. Same as he does now.
Why does he keep coming in?
It can’t be because he loves mushroom coffee so much, so why?
Dare I hope it’s because of me? I might not dare, but I still do hope—it’s one of my flaws—and it bleeds into my every step. The closer I get to the station, the perkier my stride becomes.
Spring is slowly making its way to our little town, warming the chilly ocean air. Loverly Cave is a coastal town, so the winters here are so mild that many of the flowers don’t bother go into hiding during it. But there’s no mistaking the excitement in nature when the new season begins.
Bird song follows you everywhere you venture, the sweet scent of fresh leaves peppering the trees fills your heart with hope for new beginnings and the sky opens up more often than not, allowing small rays of sunshine to warm our skin.
The station is just a couple of streets away from my shop and in a matter of minutes, it comes into view.
As if sensing my presence, Griffin walks out of the garage that same moment, wearing that same T-shirt he was in earlier, but it now, somehow, looks tighter around his arms. And a hat.
Sweet daisies…he has an LCFD baseball cap on backward.
“Hey, is everything all right?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. Our fingers grazing against each other and sending that small thrill through my stomach. It’s the barest of touches but it’s enough. It’s all it takes.
“Yep, you just forgot this in your haste to get away from Fanny this morning.” I extend his croissant and card toward him.
“Oh.” Griffin looks down as if he just realized these were missing. “You didn’t have to bring it all the way here. I’d come looking for my card soon enough.” He takes it from my hands.
“I don’t mind the walk, the weather’s been brightening up. Plus, I didn’t want you to go without your breakfast.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
I should turn around and head back. What else is there to say? But neither one of us is trying all that hard to move away.
“My radishes are ready for harvest,” I blurt out, because of course, I do.
Thirty-two years old and I still can’t control what comes out of my mouth at any given time.
“Radishes?” Griff arches an eyebrow, and I can’t decide if he’s amused by my sudden statement or thinks I’m still that weird little girl. But I get distracted from the thought when my eyes are drawn to the tip of his tongue that peeked out in the corner of his mouth. And a small, loop-sided smile.
I almost whimper at the sight and shift from one leg to the other. Sweet daisies, a tip of his tongue, a small smile and I’m a goner.
What are we talking about? Oh, radishes. I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Um, yeah. Radishes and lettuce and my tomatoes are quite tall already. You should see them.”
“I’ve never seen radishes grow.”
“Then you should come. Tonight?” I clap my hands together, brimming with excitement because Griffin will come to see my radish.
It’s not the radishes I want him to see, but oh well. And now I’m referring to my lady parts as a radish.
Great.
Totally normal.
Normal is overrated, remember, Julie? You can call your vagina a radish if you wish so. Radish power and all that.
“Tonight sounds—”
“Sunshine!” A familiar voice cuts Griffin off, and it takes my mush of a brain a second to realize it’s Owen. You know, the guy I’m dating.
Both Griff and I turn our heads to see him approach with a wide, beaming smile. Not a single strand of his perfectly styled blonde hair is out of place in the windy weather and his navy suite, crisp and fresh.
Owen is an attorney, and despite the whole town telling him he can ease up and wear pj's to work if he wishes, he won’t budge.
Owen really loves his suits.
And I really don’t.
“What a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He wraps his arms around my bare midriff, drawing me into his chest and my bracelets ding loudly as I prop my arms on his chest to halter the embrace.
But it doesn’t deter Owen and he plants a kiss on my flaming cheek.
“Hey, yeah, Griffin forgot his breakfast and his card this morning at the shop, so I came by to drop it off for him.” I gesture to the imposing tower of a man standing next to us.
I don’t need to look at him to note the sudden mood change. That bright, energetic red aura surrounding us is now tainted with splotches of black anger and aggression.
I’m not as great as Nina, Willa, and my mom at reading auras but there’s no mistaking this shift. And it’s coming from Griffin.
“Griffin Owling, no shit.” Owen chuckles lightly, turning his gaze to the man in question who gives him a tight, forced smile. “I heard you were back.” Owen extends his hand for a shake and suppresses a wince when Griff accepts it.
“Mm-hmm, I’ve been back for about a month.”
“Nice! Welcome back!”
“Thanks,” he says dryly.
The entirety of my skin is itching to get away from this negativity. To defuse the situation I don’t understand, but it’s clear that Griffin is not happy to see Owen.
Why is a whole other question.
Sure, Owen was no angel and played a huge role in the bullying I lived through in school but I’ve long since forgiven him. Especially after he came by to apologize every day for the first year after he came back from college.
I don’t hold grudges. They are bad for your aura, so I didn’t hesitate to let go of all that negativity, but maybe Griffin is not too fast to forgive.
And why does that make that little girl inside me brim with excitement? Bad Julie! Bad, bad, bad.
“Well, I have to head back to work,” I say.
“Already?” Owen pouts. “I thought maybe we could have lunch together?”
“Sorry, Lia is all alone there and we are about to get all the lunch people in there.” I point to his chest, widening my eyes. Owen chuckles.
“Fine, fine. I won’t add to your workload. I’ll go somewhere else.” I smile and turn back toward Griffin whose glare hadn’t thawed one bit.
“Um, I’ll see you tonight?” I confirm, but it’s Owen who speaks up.
“Tonight? But you already have plans for tonight,” he says. When I don’t answer but simply furrow my brows, he adds, “Remember, we’re having dinner with my parents. I wanted to introduce you to them officially.”
“Oh.” I frown slightly, trying to recall when I’d agreed to such plans, but coming up short at the moment. “I’m sorry, it must’ve slipped my mind.”
“That’s okay, babe, but you’re still coming, right? They’ve been so excited to see you.” Owen casts a warry glance toward Griffin and back to me.
“Dinner, yeah, yes. I’ll be there, of course.” I nod, overdoing it a little on the enthusiasm that’s bordering on hysteria—because meeting parents is a huge deal—but Owen seems to be happy with the respond and kisses my cheek again.
There one second and gone the next… When I look to the spot where Griffin stood, it’s empty but I still catch his retreating form before he ducks inside the station.
“Griff?” I call out, and he stops but doesn’t turn around fully, only his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” With another tight smile, he vanishes from my sight.
“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your shop.” Owen tugs on my hand and I have nothing left to do but to follow him and ponder what that smile meant and why it felt so cold…