Chapter Twenty-Eight Valentine’s Day
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Valentine’s Day
Beverly
I perch on Nana’s bed drinking coffee as she sifts through old photo albums.
Nana’s room is similar to mine. There are quilts and photos in wooden frames and little shelves with knickknacks from Grandpa’s travels with Birds on the Block. I’m curled into one of her quilts, still in flannel pajama pants and my same shirt from yesterday.
Smelling like Griffin Harvey.
I smile to myself.
It feels like I’m sixteen again, eager to go to school and see a boy. Will we act the same after our kiss? Will things feel different? I haven’t felt sparkles in my chest in so long. I forgot that crushes could feel like colorful beams of light through stained glass.
The way his beard brushed against my chin. His heady, hooded gaze. His deep laughter resonating through my chest, chasing my own.
Have I ever laughed while kissing? Have I ever had so much fun?
“Oh, look, it’s his first live show,” Nana says. Her head tilts to the side in adoration as Grandpa stares back at us from a photo. On the opposite page, there’s a photo of Nana and Grandpa on set in Japan for a Birds on the Block special: “Bernie Goes Abroad!”
“That was the best vacation we’d ever had,” Nana says with a sigh.
“I always loved when we got to travel the world together. Oh.” She touches a palm to her chest. “And that jokester.” She guffaws, pointing out Finch in the background, making blurry bunny ears.
She gives a soft sigh. “I wonder if he’s lonely out in Los Angeles. ”
Los Angeles.
The butterfly wings in my chest halt flapping.
Griffin and I are getting close to crunch time.
How long can this truly last? How much longer will I experience Griffin and his half smile?
Griffin and his guitar, permeating from the backyard garage and into my open window late at night?
Griffin, whose lips brushed across my neck?
The doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it!” I say far too quickly.
The butterfly’s beating wings thrum again, almost making me woozy as I stumble off the bed.
I take the stairs down to the den two at a time, stopping just short of the door to run fingers through my messy hair.
I swing it open to find Griffin with Ava.
She clutches a single flower and a folded note in her fist. He’s smiling with a coffee cup in his hand and his gorgeous brown eyes taking me in.
“Hey,” I breathe out.
“Hi.” He extends the cup of coffee to me.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
“No reason.”
He sets Ava down, and she toddles past my legs and toward Steak. He’s wearing a pink bowtie collar, dotted with hearts. Very seasonal. Steak barrels up the stairs, and Ava follows.
I blink, taking the coffee and stepping to the side to let Griffin through the threshold.
He barely fits, bulky shoulders and all.
His hair, loose around his shoulders, lands in waves of mahogany.
I stare at his chest and the black long-sleeved shirt is all too similar to the one I gripped in my fists last night.
“You look great today,” he says.
I just know my cheeks redden as I glance down at my flannel pants and shirt from yesterday.
“I look like a mess.”
“Not at all,” he murmurs.
And then Griffin bends down and kisses me.
Kisses me.
Just like that.
Like we’ve been kissing forever.
I feel it all the way down to my toes, curling into my fluffy socks and gripping the den carpet beneath. I exhale into him as he cups the back of my neck in his large palm.
He pulls away far too soon, whispering another “Hey.”
“Hi.”
I close the door, shutting out the chill, and walk up the stairs behind him. He’s wearing denim pants, as usual, but did they always fit this well? I sip my coffee. He put in just the right amount of sugar.
Ava has been crawling her way up the steps and is nearly at the top, so we patiently wait until she is standing again. She toddles her way back to Nana’s bedroom. When she turns the corner, Nana lets out a dramatic, cooing “Well, hello there, sweet cheeks.”
Griffin takes a seat on the bed. I gingerly sit next to him, accidentally sliding into the depressed section, where his body sinks into the mattress. My arm presses against his, his waffled long-sleeve sending goose bumps over my skin.
He stares at me, quirking up a curious eyebrow. I feel my face flush again.
“Wow,” Nana coos. “Is this a little valentine?”
Ava nods, extending her folded piece of pink paper toward Nana, followed by the single flower.
Nana places a palm to her chest. “And it’s for me?”
Ava nods so much her bangs swing loose from their pins, which I’m sure Griffin took great care securing.
“Well, thank you,” Nana says. “This is very sweet of you.”
Something brushes my knee. I look down to see the outside of Griffin’s pinkie tracing over my pajamas. I swear I feel a bead of sweat roll down my back.
I stand and bend to Ava’s level.
“Want me to put that in a pretty vase for Nana?” I ask.
Ava nods, and I take the flower, trailing out of the hot room and down the hall toward the kitchen.
Thumping footsteps—perfect, leather boots—fall over hardwood behind me. My heart catapults into my throat. I’m lightheaded again.
“I didn’t exactly need an escort,” I tease, turning to see my stalker.
There’s a satisfied twitch in the corner of Griffin’s mouth. “I can’t help myself.”
I’m definitely going to pass out. I don’t think my heart can take another blow to the chest. I reach for the skinniest vase in the cabinet and pull it down.
“What are your plans for Valentine’s Day?” he asks.
The vase slips, and I fumble it through both hands, catching it before it hits the ground. I finally rest it on the counter, then twist around on the spot.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I hadn’t really planned on celebrating.” Then sheepishly I admit, “I’ll probably be working.”
He slowly nods. “Hmm.”
“I never really celebrate Valentine’s Day,” I say. At least, Beau and I never did. We said we didn’t need holidays to prove our love to each other. That it was cheesy and performative. But ever since our breakup, I’ve found I kinda like the pink and red and cutout hearts. I like the cheese.
“Hmm,” Griffin repeats, more to himself than to me.
“What’s with all the caveman grunts?”
“I’d like to spend Valentine’s Day with you.”
He says it so matter-of-factly. I clutch the edge of the kitchen counter.
“What?” I ask. An awkward laugh tickles up my throat. “Why? What would we even do?”
“Not sure. Dinner? Movie? Hell, you can get in a pretty dress, and I’ll get myself looking even half as good, and we can go out. Eat pancakes, maybe. Whatever you want to do.”
Nana shuffles out of her room behind a running Ava, who leaps into Griffin’s arms.
Griffin tilts his head to the side in question, squinting as if trying to read my mind.
“B?”
Dinner and a movie? I’m so close to pitching…it feels like there’s no time left. Not for things like that. There’s never enough time with Griffin.
“Griffin, I…I can’t.” I hate the words, even as they leave my mouth. “I have to work. I want to but…” I want time with Griffin. I want it all.
“Then we’ll work,” he says. “You and me.”
“What? But we always do that,” I say on a laugh.
“And I always enjoy it.”
Nana, now looking between us with a way-too-eager smile, says, “Maybe it’s not a bad thing if you have a friend on Valentine’s Day, Bevvy.”
Griffin lifts a single wicked eyebrow.
Friend isn’t the word I’d use now.
I’m not sure Griffin would either.