Chapter Nine Maren #3
Maren blinked.
The world came back.
Griffin set her down immediately, careful to make sure her feet were steady before he released her.
That should not have made things worse.
It did.
His hands lingered for half a second at her waist.
Not holding.
Making sure.
Then gone.
Maren missed them with a force that was honestly embarrassing.
The crowd erupted again.
Tyler sprinted into the frame with both arms raised. “ROMANTIC SAFETY EDUCATION!”
“No,” Griffin said, voice rough.
Maren reached for her phone from Ava, who had apparently been filming the entire thing with an expression of deep personal investment.
Ava handed it over.
Quietly.
Too quietly.
Maren checked the footage.
Mistake.
It was beautiful.
Funny at first. Her dramatic fry shortage. Griffin’s reluctant approach. The crowd laughing. Then his quiet you sure, caught by the audio because the phone had been closer than either of them realized. Her nod. The lift.
Then the whole tone changed.
The camera had caught her face when Griffin picked her up.
Caught his face when he looked down at her.
Caught the second the joke turned into something else.
Maren stopped the video.
Her cheeks were hot.
Ava leaned closer. “Well.”
“Do not well me.”
“I did not say it with judgment.”
“You said it with full orchestration.”
Ava smiled.
Griffin appeared behind Maren’s shoulder. “How bad is it?”
Maren looked up at him.
Bad?
No.
That was not the problem.
The problem was that it was good.
Too good.
The kind of clip people would watch and say what the comments had said last night.
Real real.
She turned the screen toward him.
He watched without speaking.
His expression did not change much, but Maren saw the muscle jump in his jaw when the clip reached his quiet you sure.
Then the lift.
Then the look.
Then his hands at her waist when he set her down.
Maren expected him to say no.
To tell her not to post it.
To step back into control and remind everyone there was no romance.
She braced for it.
Instead, he looked at her.
“Do you want to post it?”
The question hit harder than no would have.
Because no would have been easy to fight.
This gave the choice back to her.
Maren hated, a little, how much that mattered.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Griffin nodded once, like that was an answer he respected.
“Then don’t yet.”
She looked at him.
Around them, the crowd was still chanting for the clip. Tyler was leading half of them in something that sounded suspiciously like “post the carry.” Beckett had tears in his eyes because he was Beckett. Cooper looked awake, which was basically hysteria.
Maren held the phone between both hands.
If she posted it, it would perform.
She knew that.
It might be the biggest clip yet.
It would make the weekend explode.
It would prove the concept worked.
It would also hand Paige another weapon.
Another cute romance storyline.
Another reason to say Maren’s success only worked because a handsome hockey player carried her three feet and looked at her like that.
Her throat tightened.
Griffin watched her, saying nothing.
No pressure.
No management.
Just there.
That was almost worse.
Maren turned the phone facedown.
“Later,” she said.
The word was small, but it felt like control.
Real control.
Not the shiny kind she performed for everyone else.
Griffin’s eyes softened.
“Okay.”
Just okay.
No argument.
No disappointment.
No reminder about numbers.
Maren’s chest did something unpleasant.
Like gratitude with teeth.
Then Tyler skidded up, still breathing hard. “Why is the clip not live?”
Maren smiled.
This one felt steadier.
“Because,” she said, “some good content gets better when you make people wait.”
Tyler stared.
Then slowly pointed at her. “That is evil.”
“No,” Griffin said beside her.
Maren looked up.
He was looking at her, not Tyler.
His mouth curved, barely but unmistakably.
“That,” he said, “is strategy.”
The word landed exactly where excellent had.
Right in the part of her that had been waiting too long for someone to name her work correctly.
Maren’s smile slipped before she could stop it.
Griffin saw.
Of course he saw.
Then, because apparently emotional vulnerability required immediate punishment, her phone buzzed.
Paige again.
Maren looked down before she could stop herself.
The message preview read:
Are you seriously letting him carry you now?
Maren’s fingers went cold.
Griffin saw the screen.
His expression changed.
Maren locked the phone before he could read more.
Too late.
He had read enough.
The air tightened.
She lifted her chin and smiled.
“Part Two complete,” she said brightly.
Griffin looked at her for a long second.
Then he turned toward Tyler.
“Give me your phone.”
Tyler clutched it to his chest. “Why?”
“Because,” Griffin said, calm in a way that made everyone nearby go quiet, “we are posting something else first.”
Maren froze.
“Griffin.”
He looked back at her.
Not asking permission to fix. Not taking the clip from her. Not touching her phone.
But making a choice.
“What are you posting?” she asked.
His eyes held hers.
“The part everyone keeps missing.”