17. Griffin #2
She tugs my jacket tighter around herself, her voice calm but distant. “You seemed…occupied.”
“Occupied? What are you—” Then it hits me. “Wait, you mean with that woman at the bar? That wasn’t…”
Anika’s eyes flick to my cheek, and she points one accusing finger. “You have lipstick. Right there.”
My hand flies to my face, finding the exact spot where Elodie planted her kiss. Heat blazes up my neck. I frantically pull out my handkerchief and scrub at my skin.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I blurt, which, let’s be honest, is exactly what guilty people say in movies right before they get dumped.
“That woman…She just grabbed me at the bar and…”
“And what? Fell face-first onto your cheek?”
“Ambushed me!”
Anika raises one perfect eyebrow. “Ambushed you? With her lips?”
“I was trying to find you when she pounced.” I’m still scrubbing my face, probably turning it into a red, raw disaster zone. “Is it gone?”
Anika sighs. “Almost. You missed a spot.” She points to the corner of my mouth.
“Did I get it now?” I ask, rubbing harder.
“Now you just look like you have a rash.”
“I can explain,” I start, but Anika holds up a hand.
“It’s fine, Griffin.” Her smile is polite, distant. The kind she probably gives to annoying customers at the pub. “I understand this wasn’t a real date. We both know that.”
“She’s nobody,” I say finally, my voice rough. “And for the record, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see you dancing with Pierce Brosnan’s evil twin back there either.”
“Who?”
“That guy you were with. The one who dragged you away. You gonna tell me who that was?”
Anika’s expression shifts, becoming guarded. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to tell you anything about that.”
“Not supposed to…What does that mean?”
Instead of answering, Anika pulls my jacket tighter around her shoulders. The odd way she’s acting stirs something ancient and primal in me.
I almost don’t recognize myself when I growl, “Did he threaten you?”
It takes her longer to think about that than I care for. “No. I mean, I don’t think so.”
“Anika, look at me. Did he hurt you? Because I swear, I will hunt him down.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” she says quickly. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?” I take another step closer, close enough to see the faint freckles across her nose. “Anika, I’ve been going out of my mind thinking you were in danger.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “In danger? From what?”
“I don’t know! Secret passages? Mysterious men? You name it.”
Anika’s eyes flicker with something I can’t read. “Griffin, maybe you should go back to Canada.”
“Canada?” My voice rises despite my efforts to keep it level. “Anika, what’s going on?”
She looks away, studying the mountains like they hold answers. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
“Then come back inside. I need to tell you something important,” I say, stepping closer. “About tonight. What we’re really doing here.”
Her smile is gracious but guarded. “I’d rather not know too much about what you’re doing. Or who you’re doing it with.”
The way she says it, like she knows something, makes my skin prickle.
Words fail me as I look at Anika. Really look at her.
Moonlight catches in her eyes, reflecting flints of silver.
Her lips, slightly parted, are tinged blue from the cold.
She’s never looked more beautiful or more real than she does right now, wrapped in my oversized jacket with her hair a wild tangle around her face.
I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone more in my entire life.
“Look, just wait inside until I finish some business I need to take care of, then I’ll explain everything. Please?”
“Business?” A flash of something darkens her eyes before she schools her expression. “You mean with that woman in the red dress? Is that the ‘business’ you need to take care of?”
Wait a minute. Is she actually jealous? The thought sends a ridiculous thrill through me despite the gravity of the situation.
The corner of my mouth twitches up. “Are you jealous?”
“I am not.” She lifts her chin, defiant.
“You are.” I step closer, my heart racing. “Admit it. You like me.”
She shrugs with exaggerated casualness. “Sure. You’re a nice guy.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You like me, like me. More than a friend, more than practice dates.”
I move forward until her back meets the stone balustrade. My hand finds its way to her jaw, cupping it softly. Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers. “Admit to me what you really think of me.”
“I am Swiss,” she says primly. “I have a neutral opinion of you.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her stubborn wit, even as my heart hammers against my ribs. “Well, I’m Canadian.” I lean closer, drawn by the warmth of her skin and the challenge in her eyes. “So I feel the need to apologize for what I’m about to do.”
Her eyes shimmer. “And what’s that?”
“Give you the best kiss of your life.”
“I’ve never been kissed,” she says triumphantly, as if she’s just won an argument. “So the bar is pretty low.”
That stops me. I pull back slightly, searching her face. “Never?”
She shakes her head, a flush creeping up her neck.
I’m reeling. Her first kiss. The responsibility of that nearly knocks me sideways. “Then I better make it count.”
I lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away or punch me if she wants to. She doesn’t. Instead, her eyes flutter closed, long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks.
My lips brush against hers, gentle as a whisper. She’s so still I wonder if she’s breathing. I press a little firmer, and then…oh! She responds, her mouth softening beneath mine.
The first taste of her is like stepping into sunlight after months of darkness. Sweet, warm, life-giving. Her lips are soft, tentative at first, then increasingly bold as she follows my lead.
I cup her face with both hands now, thumbs brushing her cheekbones.
When she sighs against my mouth, it’s like someone’s knocked the wind out of me.
A sucker punch straight to the solar plexus that leaves me dizzy and desperate for more.
Her hands find my chest, fingers curling into my shirt like she needs something to anchor her in this new sensation, bunching the fabric between her knuckles until I can feel the warmth of her palms burning through the material.
A small sound escapes her throat, half surprise, half pleasure, that vibrates against my lips and sends liquid heat coursing through my veins like wildfire. Igniting places I’d forgotten existed.
For someone who’s never done this before, she’s a remarkably fast learner.
The initial hesitation in her movements has given way to something more curious, more confident.
The way she tilts her head just so, the experimental pressure of her mouth against mine.
It’s intoxicating, watching her discover this part of herself against my lips, feeling the moment when instinct takes over and her body remembers what her mind never knew.
The world narrows to just this. Her lips against mine, the mountain air sharp in my lungs, her heartbeat racing beneath my palm as it slides to her neck. Nothing else matters.
Just Anika, melting against me like she was made for me.
I pull back just enough to catch my breath, resting my forehead against hers. Her eyes remain closed, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed.
“You didn’t punch me this time,” I whisper, tracing the curve of her cheek with my thumb.
Her eyes flutter open, dazed and dark. “I’m still considering it.”
I laugh, the sound carried away by the wind. “Worth it.”
She smiles then, and something in my chest expands, warm and aching.
This wasn’t part of the plan. None of this was part of the plan. I came to Switzerland to play hockey. Not to play spy. And not to fall for a woman who feels like forever in my arms.
“Griffin,” she whispers. I love the sound of my name on her lips. “What are we doing?”
“I have no idea,” I admit, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I don’t want to stop.”
A helicopter’s distant whirring breaks the moment. Anika pulls away, wrapping my jacket tighter around herself.
“That’s my ride,” she says. “I have to go.”
But I’m reluctant to leave this moment, this terrace, this bubble, where nothing exists but us. I take her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “Not yet.”
“Griffin, please.”
“You can’t just leave after…after that.”
The helicopter’s whirring grows louder, its searchlight sweeping across the terrace.
“I really have to go.” She tries to pull her hand away, but I hold fast.
“Why? Because of that guy? Because of what you saw at the bar?” I step closer, ducking my head to meet her eyes. “Or because of what just happened between us?”
She looks away, her freckles like stardust in the moonlight. “All of it.”
The mental clock in my head ticks louder. I’m supposed to be meeting Elodie soon for whatever secret spy business we’re doing. If I’m late, the whole operation could fall apart. But letting Anika leave like this feels wrong on every level.
“Stay.” I tug her gently toward me. “Please. We can leave together if you want. Forget the party, forget everything else.”
Her laugh is soft and a little sad. “You can’t forget everything else, Griffin. Can you?”
The helicopter hovers closer now, snow swirling around us in its artificial wind. My watch vibrates, announcing the top of the hour.
“Look, I can explain everything,” I say, raising my voice over the noise. “Just not right now. Not here.”
“I think that’s my point.” She finally pulls her hand free.
The accusation stings because it’s true.
“Okay, yes, I have a meeting I need to get to.” I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. “But it’s not what you think. I’m not…I wouldn’t…”
How do I explain that I’m playing spy without sounding completely insane? Or worse, like I’m making up excuses?
“I’m not above begging,” I say finally, dropping to one knee dramatically. “Please, please, please stay. I’ll buy you a pony. Two ponies. A whole stable of tiny horses.”
A reluctant smile tugs at her lips. “Get up, you lunatic.”
“Not until you agree to stay.” I grab her hand and press it to my heart. “Feel that? That’s what you do to me.”
Despite everything, she laughs. A real laugh that crinkles the corners of her eyes.
“I’ll learn to yodel. I’ll memorize the entire Swiss national anthem. I’ll…”
“Stop.” She presses her fingers to my lips, and the simple touch sends electricity down my spine. “You’re impossible.”
“Give me one good reason why you can’t stay.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m tired.”
“Liar.”
The helicopter touches down at the far end of the terrace, its blades slowing just enough for safe boarding. A man in a flight suit jumps out and waves us over.
Anika steps back, creating a gulf between us. “Griffin, you need to leave this party. Now. It’s not…safe.”
“Not safe?” I echo, frowning. “What did that guy tell you?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t…Just trust me, okay?”
“I can’t leave yet,” I admit, hating the words even as I say them. “I have something I need to finish here.”
She studies me for a long moment, then nods like she’s made a decision. “Then I can’t help you.”
The helicopter pilot signals impatiently. Anika slips out of my jacket, pressing it into my hands.
“Anika.”
“Goodbye, Griffin.” She steps back, the wind whipping her hair around her face. “Thank you for the practice…well, you know.”
The way she says it, like our kiss meant nothing, cuts deeper than any hockey stick to the ribs. I watch helplessly as she walks toward the waiting helicopter. She doesn’t look back. Not even once.
“Not goodbye,” I call after her. “See you later. Tomorrow. At the pub.”
She doesn’t answer, just climbs into the helicopter with surprising grace for someone in a floor-length gown.
The helicopter lifts off, taking Anika with it, and something in my chest constricts painfully. I stand there long after it disappears into the night sky, clutching my jacket in my hands.
Then, hating myself for it, I run back inside the mansion.