3. Eliana
THREE
Strong armsgently shake me awake. “Ma’am, we’ve reached your destination,” a man’s voice sounds, his French accent thick.
My eyes snap open to find that the limo Gabriel had sent for me at the airport is currently parked in front of a white beach-side mansion. I look up to see the elderly driver smiling down at me, wrinkles forming in the corner of his eyes, as he holds my door open. I quickly wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth and jump out of the car.
He reaches into the backseat and pulls out my duffel bag, placing it on top of my purple suitcase that he must have removed from the trunk while I was still sleeping.
Despite Gabriel booking a business class seat for me again, with the bed, I barely slept a wink on the six-hour flight over. Thoughts of the team’s reaction to having me invade their home along with anxiety about the guy Zalea warned me about, Griffin, kept me wide awake. The long winding roads from the airport to this house must have been just what my body needed to finally allow for some shut eye.
“Thank you,” I say, taking the handle from him and pulling my suitcase closer to me. “How much do I owe you?” I ask, unlocking my phone and clicking on my digital wallet.
“Oh no, no,” he says, holding his hands up and taking a step back, flustered. “I was paid in advance with a very generous tip ma’am.” he says, his rosy cheeks turning one shade darker before he turns and jumps into the driver’s side.
I wave him off as he reverses out of the driveway and makes his way down the street back towards the direction of the airport. I make a mental note to thank Gabriel for arranging my ride and for paying for it too. I hadn’t thought about arranging anything until I landed at the airport and realized I didn’t have a way to get here. I was pleasantly surprised to see the limo driver holding up a sign with my name written on it.
On a grateful sigh I turn and face the house. The property stands out yet also compliments the beachy aesthetic. I glance at the colorful flowers that line the walkway to the stairs and take a deep breath of the floral scent.
After wrestling my suitcase up the five steps that lead to the large wooden door, I ring the doorbell and wait, listening to the calming sound of the distant waves. After nearly three minutes of waiting, I try the doorbell again.
Still, nobody answers. I would be worried I was at the wrong house if it wasn’t for the large Saltwater Shredders sign that hung on the door. Deciding the doorbell must be broken, I opt for knocking on the door instead. It’s only five o’clock in the evening. They wouldn’t all be sleeping already, would they?
On the fourth knock, the door swings open to reveal a literal God. He stares at me with his piercing gray eyes that match his gray sweatpants. His abs are on display as a white shirt hangs around his shoulders instead. His hair is slightly damp, hanging over his forehead, and he smells like men’s body wash.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice rough, “we’re closed.”
The door slams in my face, the force blowing my hair backwards over my shoulders. I stare at the door, stunned. I knew he was too good to be true. Men that look that good must have a flaw, and his unfortunate flaw is his rudeness.
“Hey!” I shout, pounding my fists on the wooden door until my hands begin to sting. “Open up.”
The door opens again, and this time he looks me up and down before bringing his eyes to rest on mine while a smirk forms on his stupid face. He crosses his arms over his chest, his arm muscles rippling, as he leans against the door frame, and stares at me expectantly.
“Hi,” I huff, frowning as his smirk turns into a grin before fading away.
He doesn’t reply, instead tilting his head curiously as he studies me. My cheeks heat under his gaze and his eyes flicker to them before he returns them back to mine, a satisfied smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“My name is Eliana,” I say, holding my hand out to him.
He stares at my outstretched hand, not making any movements to take it, so I lower it back to my side glaring at him. He isn’t going to make this easy
“Oh, Eliana.” He snaps his fingers as if just remembering something. “Coach Matthews mentioned something about a new social media manager. I guess that’s you then?” he asks, a grin returning to his face.
I give him a stiff nod and watch as he stands up straight, his hand coming to the edge of the door as his chest muscles tighten.
“Look,” he says, the grin dropping away and leaving behind his cold stare. “I’m not sure why Gabriel hired you, but we don’t need your help,” he says, before starting to pull the door shut again.
“You actually do need my help,” I say through clenched teeth, as I slam my palm against the door and shove my suitcase into the house with my free hand, running over his foot in the process.
“Ow!” he shouts, letting go of the door and hopping backward.
I use the opening to push my way into the house, slamming the heavy door closed.
“You ran over my fucking foot,” he exclaims in disbelief as he glares my way, leaning against the hallway wall.
“I would normally say I’m sorry, but you brought this on yourself,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance, masking the growing guilt from unintentionally hurting him.
He grumbles in frustration as he watches me. “You’re going to be a handful,” he mumbles before pushing himself off the wall and walking up to me, too close for comfort.
My cheeks instantly heat again in response to his closeness, but I keep my eyes fixed on his while he stares down at me, refusing to look away.
“Hmmm,” he says, a playful spark in his eyes as the vibration from his voice raises the hairs on my arms. “And so much fun to play with, it seems.” he almost whispers, his hand coming up to my face as he runs his thumb over my hot cheek.
His cologne fills my senses, a subtle yet captivating aroma that envelops the air around him, reminiscent of fresh mountain air after a rain shower. A distinct blend of sandalwood and cedar anchors his scent with a sense of rugged elegance. His thumb running across my cheek snaps me out of my trance and I smack his hand away from me.
He lets out a breathy chuckle before grabbing onto the strap of my duffel bag and throwing it over his own shoulder. He takes the suitcase from my hand too and heads for the stairs.
“Follow me,” he grumbles.
I feel like I’ve just experienced whiplash. He was a complete ass yet here he is carrying my bags to my room for me like a gentleman. I very much expected him to leave me to it, possibly watching from the top of the stairs while laughing as I struggled to bring up my suitcase. Instead, he carries them up for me without a word.
Why couldn’t he be ugly? It would be so much easier to not like him if I wasn’t so damn attracted to the asshole. I can’t stop my eyes from trailing down his wide back and latching onto his veiny arms, flexing as he places my suitcase on the floor at the top of the stairs. He turns to look at me and catches me staring, a smug smile spreading across his face.
I clear my throat and glance around the open concept layout, pretending to admire the coastal decor and the walls littered with team photos and plaques. I refuse to give him the ego boost of watching me check him out.
Prick.
“This is your room,” he says, opening a door parallel to the staircase before he walks in.
I follow him inside and watch as he drops my duffel bag at the foot of my bed and wheels my suitcase to the edge.
“I don’t think I caught your name,” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Griffin,” he answers, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and looking around the room curiously as if it’s his first time ever seeing it.
My face pales as I realize he’s the same person Zalea warned me about. And for good reason it seems because so far it has not been a great experience meeting him.
“Griffin, where’s Gabriel?”
“We call him Coach Matthews in this house,” he corrects, turning his back to me as he walks around the room, studying every detail before looking out the window towards the ocean. “He only lets certain people call him Gabriel.”
“Where is he?” I repeat, my patience dwindling.
“With the rest of the team.”
“Where would that be?”
“At Kitso beach,” he turns to look at me and sighs when he sees me raise my brow. “About an hour away from here.”
“When will they be back?”
“Late. Any more questions?”
I swallow nothing as Griffin’s gaze lingers on me and I lick my drying lips. His eyes track my tongue’s movement with an intensity that causes a warmth to grow in my lower stomach. When I don’t answer he approaches me slowly, hands still in his pockets. His eyes never leaving mine until he comes to a stop in front of me, our chests almost touching.
“Are you worried about being alone with me, sunshine?”
“Don’t call me that.” I frown at him, but I sound more breathless than I intend to, his nearness clouding my senses.
“I think I will,” Griffin’s eyes trail down my body before making their way back up and pausing on my lips, his gaze darkening. “Sunshine.”
He blinks away the lust from his eyes, and brushes past me as he walks out of my room and into the hallway. I turn around and lean my head out of my room to watch him walk over to the door next to mine.
He enters the room without a second glance my way and slams the door shut behind him without a word. I roll my eyes and retreat into my new room, resting my back against the door after I close it, and forcing myself to take deep breaths to calm my nerves.
How could someone that attractive be so damn annoying?
Images of his toned arms and perfect abs invade my mind and I groan as I walk over to the bed, picking up a pillow and pressing it against my face. I’m too sexually deprived to be around a man that looks like that. As annoying and rude as he’s been, I can’t deny the sexual tension bouncing between us and the thought causes another frustrated groan to bubble out of me, the pillow doing its job to muffle the sound.
Maybe moving into the house with the team was a bad idea; especially with Griffin being here. I already feel slightly out of control, and I haven’t even started my first official day on the job yet. How am I going to manage taking pictures and videos for the social pages of him shirtless and wet. My cheeks turn a crimson shade as I picture him returning from the ocean after surf practice, water dripping down his defined abs.
I shake my head side to side, attempting to shake the image right out of my head. This is not good. I sound like a horny teenager, and I haven’t even gotten that far yet. After a few minutes of beating myself up for my body’s reaction to him, I walk over to my bag, unzipping it as I empty my belongings.
While I begin to refold the clothes that I’ll be keeping in the dresser, the sound of moaning stops me dead in my tracks. It gets louder and louder until I realize it’s coming from Griffin’s room. He’s either snuck a girl inside his room in the few minutes that I’ve been in mine or he’s playing porn on full volume. This is not what I signed up for.
“Griffin!”I scream, pounding my fists on his door after fifteen long minutes of excessively loud porn coming from his room.
If I wasn’t so worried about catching him mid-masturbation or balls deep in some beach babe, I would have barged into the room ten minutes ago. Another five minutes pass and he still hasn’t answered his door, so I give up and decide to hang out in the kitchen until Gabriel returns. I can ask him to give me another room. There’s no way I can share a wall with this jerk.
I nearly trip down the last three steps of the staircase when my eyes connect with Griffin’s across the room. He’s sitting on top of the kitchen counter, in a white T-shirt, eating out of an ice cream tub. He smirks at the pure shock and disbelief on my face.
A hot anger sparks back to life at that stupidly sexy smirk, and I slowly close my jaw as I step from the last step.
“Is there a reason you have porn blasting in your bedroom?” I stomp over to him, hands curled into fists.
The smirk never leaves his face as he spoons up more ice cream and pops it into his mouth. I glance down at the tub and notice the flavor is mint chocolate chip. Gross. Of course he eats that crap. Everyone knows Caramel Crunch is the best flavor of ice cream.
“Is there a problem with mint chocolate chip?” he asks, studying my disgusted expression.
“Yeah, it’s disgusting. Are you going to answer my question?”
“I bet you’re a vanilla type of girl,” he says, dropping the spoon back into the tub and placing it next to him, jumping off the counter so that he stands in front of me.
“Excuse me?” I ask, outraged.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he says, his smirk slowly fading. “I like vanilla, too.”
“You know what, I’m not entertaining this conversation.” I say, my cheeks aflame as I lean into the corner space of the counter. “Explain the porn.”
“I heard it helps with the feng shui.” he says, tapping his chin thoughtfully, shrugging his shoulders.
“This can’t be real life,” I practically whisper as I close my eyes and press the tips of my fingers to my temples.
Someone this dense can’t possibly exist, let alone be a professional surfer. There’s absolutely no way.
My breath hitches as I feel his arms brush against my hips. My eyes spring open and the breath is knocked out of me as I realize he’s trapped me between the counter and his hard body, his arms resting on either side of me on the edge of the counter.
“Are you sure you can handle living in this house? I promise I’m the least annoying one here.”
His breath tickles my face as I stare up into his eyes, unable to look away. He’s breathtakingly beautiful and the way he fills out his white T-shirt should be illegal. My eyes leisurely travel from his flawless face down his round shoulders and pausing on the veins along his arms. Who knew something so simple could cause my nipples to turn rock hard and my breathing to become something more akin to panting.
“My eyes are up here, sunshine.”
His voice snaps me out of my trance, and I look up to find him smirking down at me. His ego must have grown while he watched me practically drooling over his veiny arms. I shove him away and walk around him without a word, deciding this conversation isn’t worth the mental strain.
I open the fridge and study the shelves stocked with so much food of various colors that I find it almost overwhelming. I quickly grab all the ingredients I need to make a fruit salad and make quick work of arranging it all into a bowl.
After putting away the ingredients, I pick up my bowl and turn towards the island, finding that Griffin has relocated himself there, ice cream nowhere to be seen. He scrolls through his phone distractedly, so I reluctantly convince myself to sit beside him, doing my best to pretend he isn’t there.
The last thing I expect is for him to slide his hand over and grab onto the rim of my bowl, dragging it towards himself, but that’s exactly what he does. I watch in shocked silence as he lifts my fork to his mouth and devours my fruit salad right in front of me, not looking up from his phone once.
“There’s no way that just happened,” I squeak in disbelief, watching him put the last bite into his mouth before returning the fork back to the bowl and sliding it over to me.
I stare down at the empty bowl, feeling my frustration begin to bubble. Slamming the door in my face was one thing, playing porn on full volume to piss me off was another, but this was uncalled for. As if twisting the knife deeper, my stomach growls hungerly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says sarcastically, placing his hand over his chest in fake shock. “I had no idea you were planning to eat such a horrible salad.”
I blink twice and without a word I get up and return to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I pull my phone out of my duffle bag and call Gabriel, like I should have done earlier.
“Eliana, did you make it to the house okay?” is the first thing he says.
“Hi, Gabriel, yeah I did,” I pause. “Thank you for arranging the ride and paying for it too.”
“My pleasure. Are you settling into your room, okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to welcome you on your first day. I hope Griffin has given you a tour of the place.”
“That’s why I called you,” I say, sitting on top of my bed and crossing my legs in front of me.
The porn in Griffin’s room goes quiet, but I try to ignore the suspicion that it’s because he’s listening in on my call through the thin bedroom walls.
“Is there any other room I can switch to in this house?” I pick at a loose thread in my sweater.
“Unfortunately, not, you snagged the last one. Why, is there something wrong with yours?” Gabriel’s tone sounds concerned.
I clear my throat. “I’m just getting a feeling that Griffin isn’t the biggest fan of my room being so close to his.”
I hear Gabriel chuckle quietly. “Griffin is a bit of a hard egg to crack, very quiet guy most of the time. Don’t take it personal, he’s just very determined to get to the top and be the best of the best. Once you peel away that top layer, he’ll open himself up to you.”
“He’s quiet?” I don’t even try to hide the confusion and surprise from my voice. The Griffin I’ve had the displeasure of meeting so far is not even close to the definition of quiet, it’s almost laughable.
“Oh yeah, but don’t worry, I have a plan.”
“What do you mean by that?” I start to chew at my bottom lip nervously.
“I think having him as your first social campaign will help him get comfortable with you faster.” My heart drops into the depths of my stomach as I feel bile begin to rise.
Work with Griffin? He must be kidding me right now.
“I don’t think he has a problem with getting comfortable. He seems almost too comfortable around me.” I mutter.
“I’ll tell you both more about it tomorrow. You should get some sleep; practice is at five in the morning. Goodnight, Eliana.” Gabriel says, as if he didn’t hear my comment.
The line goes dead before I have a chance to tell him good night too. Why does Gabriel’s version of Griffin not match the Griffin that I met? He was anything but quiet, in fact he has been so loud that I’m contemplating ordering earplugs and paying for next-day shipping.
I replay the events of the night as I lay in bed, starting with the most recent encounter all the way to when he tried slamming the door in my face twice. He was an absolute dick and there’s no way anyone in their right mind can say he’s a quiet guy.
The Griffin I’ve met sounds like the opposite of the Griffin that Gabriel was talking about. Why would he be so different with me than he is with Gabriel? The only thing that makes sense is that who he’s shown me he is, is not the real Griffin. I realize that one of my fears has already come to fruition. The real Griffin doesn’t want me here so he’s putting on this performance to try and make me so uncomfortable I’ll leave.
Are you sure you can handle living in this house?
His words repeat in my mind as I spend the rest of my night planning how I can possibly make him feel just as uncomfortable as he made me, until I begin dozing off to sleep, a smirk fixed on my face.