Chapter 26 #2
“Like how you didn’t really have friends at school, right?
Maybe because you couldn’t trust that they would still be there from one day to the next.
Honestly, I was looking down this list of the ways it can affect you, and it was tick, tick, tick for me—PTSD, anxiety, depression, substance abuse.
Young kids who lose their parents can find it hard to regulate their emotions, their whole lives. ”
“Maybe you’re scared of needing people.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s something you said to me once.”
Vivien raised her eyebrows, then winced and lowered them, as if it hurt. “Like your theory that I need to feel like I belong.”
The door opened and in walked Griffin Hart—the Griffin Hart, Mr. Hart.
Lana was struck by the way he filled the room, and not just physically.
It was like that velvety aura rolled out, cocooning her in a heady mix of warmth and safety and lust. And yes, a splinter of risk too.
Was she scared of being abandoned, at a primal level?
“There you are,” he said, taking her in his arms. Her whole body ached for him. He brushed a kiss to her forehead. “I missed you,” he breathed. “And this must be Vivien!” He turned, keeping an arm firmly around Lana.
Vivien’s mouth had dropped open. “Oh man, I’m hallucinating again.”
“You’re not hallucinating.” Lana introduced them, and explained Griffin’s part as briefly as she could.
She left out the intimate details, but it had to be obvious something was going on, even if Lana herself didn’t know what that was.
Vivien slapped the bed with both hands. “Whoa! Talk about a While You Were Sleeping plot twist!”
“What’s While You Were Sleeping?” Lana said.
Griffin smiled, and Lana’s entire body felt it. “I’ll explain later. But right now…” He stepped away, gesturing to the door. “I have a surprise.”
The door opened a nudge, and then wider.
Lana’s parents stood in the hallway, clutching a homemade bouquet of peonies and gerberas—Vivien’s favorites.
For several minutes, coherent thoughts took a backseat to hugs and tears.
Lana discovered Griffin had quietly taken the jet to fetch them that morning—and here she was, thinking he’d forgotten her.
“I’ll be spending the rest of my life paying off those carbon emissions,” her father grumbled, but it was obvious he was secretly impressed.
He was treating Griffin with a reverence that was missing from their first encounter.
That evidently came as a disappointment to Griffin, but Lana was relieved.
Given that he’d disapproved of Brenda’s relationship with Walter, Todd could understandably be suspicious of Griffin.
Fortunately, he’d gotten an insight into Griffin’s true character before being subjected to cautionary tales from his public persona.
How weird that Brenda had fallen for a Hollywood celebrity, and now her daughter was in danger of repeating history.
In danger of? Hardly. Lana sneaked a look at Griffin, who was watching the reunion with an unreserved grin. Lana had already fallen for him. Hard. He caught her gaze and winked, which just made things worse.
As Todd and Dawn fussed over Vivien, Griffin strolled up and threaded his fingers through Lana’s. “Can we speak?” He jerked his head toward the door.
Lana’s belly filled with butterflies, and she couldn’t figure out if they were good ones or bad ones.
Her body craved him, but her mind urged caution.
They’d both been adamant that a relationship was impossible.
So was this it—the end that they’d agreed on?
Part of her even wanted it to end—the self-sabotaging part.
Get the heartbreak over sooner rather than later.
But was that the part of her brain that had learned early to fear losing someone?
She was filled with fear right now—competing fears, knocking at her brain and funneling into her chest. The fear of ending it and the fear of continuing.
In a sense, ending it now was the easier choice.
Griffin pulled her into the corridor and engulfed her. She wrapped her arms around him, and for a good five minutes they stayed like that. Though she hadn’t slept in more hours than her brain could compute, she felt herself rebuilding, soaking up his considerable strength.
He released her, just far enough that they could see each other’s faces, and traced a finger along her temple, the way he had the first time they’d kissed. “You good?”
“So good.” Movement to one side caught her eye. A woman in a hospital gown was filming them on a cell phone. Griffin groaned, turning his back on the patient, his face hitting neutral.
Lana felt a touch on her upper arm. Vivien’s nurse. “The room next door is vacant, should you feel the need for privacy,” she whispered.
They gratefully scooted inside and pulled the door closed.
“You don’t want to know how this is blowing up in the media—everywhere,” he said.
“Elmore is already asking for the film rights. Your dad bought a cell phone yesterday, and I had to confiscate it because he couldn’t stop watching cable news.
It’s madness out there.” They sat on the side of the bed, their legs brushing.
“I just wanted to be alone with you—though I did force myself to wait my turn.”
Lana wound her arms around his waist, relishing his solidness, an antidote for the turbulence of the last few days. If she could melt into him, she would. She still didn’t believe he could possibly feel as strongly attracted as she did. He lay down, coaxing her back with him.
Unable to put any thoughts into coherent words, and desperate to silence her many incoherent thoughts, she gently kissed his lips—two butterflies brushing wings.
He responded as if he’d been waiting for the moment, and she gave in to the feeling of release, even while that little voice warned her that she was prolonging the inevitable, that she couldn’t have this—him, that she should back out now. She fought to mute it.
When they broke for breath, she stroked his temple with the back of her fingers. “It’s weird to think I’ve seen you kiss stacks of other women. That you do it as part of your job.”
“Like a gigolo,” he said, grinning that grin. “But nah, intimate scenes are just like fight scenes—it’s all about the choreography. Plus breath mints. Trust me, they’re not at all sexy, and they never stop being weird. I get critiqued on my technique.”
“Your technique is just fine.”
“Well, I have literally been coached on this for years—at least, on how it looks to an observer. Which is not what a good kiss should be about. But do you know the most important body part in a sex scene?” He skimmed a hand up the outside of her thigh.
“Uh.” She looked down his body, but with one finger he gently brought her chin up.
“Your eyes.”
“Ha. Of course.”
“Though, honestly, I’d just be happy if one day you looked at me the way you look at Darnell.”
One day. As if this were one of many days they’d spend together. Like his pool house, the hospital room seemed to occupy its own place in space and time. But you couldn’t live in permanent retreat, as much as she’d like to.
“Griffin, how could this possibly…? How could we…?” She didn’t know where to begin with articulating it.
But beginning was a start. It was better than what she might otherwise have done—launched in first with the speech about how it wasn’t going to work.
Dive in before he could. This way was terrifying, but all good risks were.
Griffin shuffled so he was lying on his back, which didn’t leave her a lot of options, except to snuggle up and rest her cheek on his chest. “The thing I kept thinking yesterday, when all that shit was going on—alongside wanting to save Darnell and Vivien, and make these assholes pay—was that I wanted to win the girl. I had to save her first, of course, but then I wanted to win her. More than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
When I thought you’d died… shit. Lana, I honestly don’t know how we make this work, but I know I want to try.
And, quite frankly, you’re just as famous as me now, so I don’t know if there’s any going back to your idyllic anonymous life. Sorry.”
The butterflies returned—definitely good butterflies. Forget the near-death experiences of the last few days—choosing whether or not to date Griffin Hart could be the most dangerous, most consequential call she ever made. What if it imploded and she ended up back where she was a week ago?
Well, hell, she’d end up in the same place today if she decided not to even try, except with a what-if that could haunt her for life.
She slid a hand along his stomach. “If being forced out of my shell is the price I have to pay to have a chance at this, so be it.” She felt his body relax, a humming tension releasing.
“I haven’t been able to think about anything else, all night.
I want the kind of life where I meet a woman and we drift into a relationship for no other reason than we like each other and it feels good.
I know we’re still really early on in this, but I think I might have met my one in ten thousand, and I wanna find out if it’s true. ”
“You don’t think it’s just circumstance, or the drama? Not that I’m saying I do.” Lana might not have woken after being sedated for a month, but her sudden change in circumstances was still dizzying.
“I say it’s fate.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in fate.”
“I didn’t. But it’s not every woman with whom I get stranded, go into hiding, solve a crime.
Not forgetting that I watched you die and come back to life, only to save my life.
It’s not every woman with whom I have all that and a deeper connection.
You may find this hard to believe, but this is the first time that’s all happened to me. ”
“You really have lived a sheltered life.”
“Right? I’m sure this has happened to you at least a dozen times.”
“I’ve lost count.”
“Also, you make me laugh.” He tipped up her chin so he could look into her eyes.
“All I want is you, Lana. I have all this other shit, all the shit that people think they want, and until I met you, I didn’t realize I didn’t have the thing I want most. I need most. This connection.
” He swallowed, with apparent difficulty.
“But I totally understand if that’s not what you want—if my stupid life is not what you want.
If you want me to leave now, I will. But either way, from now on I’m going to live my life the way I want. ”
He went blurry at the edges, like an unashamedly beautiful watercolor. A John Singer Sargent. “If you leave now,” she said huskily, “I’m pretty sure I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if this was my one chance.”
“We wouldn’t be the first, you know—the first well-known actor and regular person to date. People make it work. We can make up our own rules, figure it out—though you might have to put up with some extra attention at the library.”
“Attention, ugh. Though, to be fair, figuring out how to make us work seems like an ordinary challenge compared with what we’ve been through the last few days.”
“You must be exhausted. Wanna come back to mine for a break? I booked your folks into the Beverly Wilshire, so they can be close to the hospital.”
“I could use the retreat.”
“Fair warning, though—it’s a party outside my street.
Fans, media, paps—like I’ve never seen. I ordered them all pizza, but now I’m wondering if I’ve just encouraged them and they’ll never leave.
But once we get through that, we could open some wine, I could make us a meal.
” His eyebrow hiked. “We could put on a movie…”
“Not sure I’ll make it through a triple feature, but that sounds like a fantasy come true.” It was a fantasy come true, just not one she’d ever dared to dream. “If we’re alien hermits together, does that mean we’re no longer hermits?”
“Oh, I dunno—I like the idea of being hermits together. And if it’s okay, I’d like to keep your number in my phone.”