Chapter 23
GRIFFIN
Worth and Mya are officially married.
At least, that’s what the paperwork says.
But standing there, watching them exchange vows, I kept forgetting it was pretend.
The ceremony was beautiful. Almost painfully so.
Worth’s eyes were fixed on Mya with a seriousness that didn’t belong to a lie. They were just playing a part, but the act looked too believable.
If you didn’t know the truth, you’d never guess love wasn’t stitched into every moment they shared.
Maybe there’s more truth in it than either of them realizes.
However, every time I blinked, all I saw was Tiana.
I tried to tell myself I wasn’t paying attention.
But she looked unreal in her dress—gold with delicate straps and a neckline that dipped just enough to tease.
Her hair was curled, her lips a muted berry that made my mouth go dry just from watching her speak.
She looked like something out of a different world.
And she never looked at me, keeping her gaze pointed anywhere but me.
Maybe she thought avoiding me was safer. And perhaps she was right, because I don’t know what would’ve happened if she caught me staring. I’m not sure I would’ve looked away.
At dinner, we finally talked, exchanged pleasantries, traded jabs, even laughed a little. It was natural again, like at dinner with her family. I felt happy.
Then, out of nowhere, a creeping ache formed beneath my ribs. It took me a second to recognize it.
Without even noticing, I’d started turning my wedding ring around my finger. It pulled at memories I wasn’t prepared for.
Tiana’s eyes dropped to my hand, then lifted back to my face. The shift in her expression was instant. It wasn’t anger, jealousy or irritation—it was sadness.
As fast as the emotion appeared, she smoothed it over, hiding it behind a polite smile.
Soon after, the conversation quietly died between us.
The memories of Lila tugged me back in time, whether I wanted to go there or not.
And the truth—the one I barely admit, even to myself— is that the love I have for Lila has changed. Five years is a long time. The depth of what we had has dimmed, but the love itself never vanished.
It lives in the pieces Lila left behind—our son, the promises we meant to keep, the version of me that existed when she was still here. I’ll always care for her. I’ll always honor what we had.
But that burning, all-consuming love… it simply changed shape, smothered by grief.
The ache grew until I had to shake myself out of it, force my mind back to the present, back to Paris, where everyone else existed.
When we finally get back to the penthouse, Tiana walks along the hallway ahead of me, heels tapping softly against the marble floor. I slow my steps without meaning to, watching the sway of her hips, the tension in her shoulders.
She doesn’t look at me.
I don’t look at her either.
We both turn toward our rooms—mine on the left, hers on the right. No goodnight. No acknowledgment of what the past weeks have stirred up. It’s better this way.
I retreat to my bedroom and close the door, wired and way too aware of her.
The city glows outside the window, but it does nothing to distract me.
From the fact that Tiana is just always there.
In my house. On the plane. In this penthouse. In my head. On my nerves. Under my skin. Everywhere.
I scrub a hand over my face and sink onto the edge of the bed, irritation buzzing under my skin.
My mind flashes back to Tiana’s dress, the curve of her waist—
Stop.
I’m too old for this. Too disciplined. But discipline and logic don’t amount to shit when my body reacts before my brain can catch up.
I’m fucking hard just thinking about her. This is ridiculous.
With a frustrated exhale, I lie back, shove my hand beneath the waistband of my pants, grip my inflated cock, and try to take the edge off.
It doesn’t take long before the pressure climbs in my balls, heat curling low in my stomach, breath shortening as Tiana’s face flashes through my mind again and again.
I continue jerking my length, grip tight. It’s rough, given that I have nothing moist to rub over my cock, but precum soon beads at the head, and I use it to glide my palm over the tight skin.
A low, harsh sound escapes my throat before I can stop it. “Tiana.”
A split-second later, I hear a noise right outside my door. A gasp, a shuffle, then something bumping lightly against the wall.
My entire body freezes.
“Fuck.” I yank my hand away instantly and drag my pants back up, heart pounding.
I stand, cross the room in three long strides, and open the door.
Tiana freezes halfway between my doorway and hers. Her eyes are huge, chest rising and falling, her cheeks flushed.
She looks mortified.
And I know she heard me.
Her gaze drags from my crotch up to my eyes, then she turns her head away so fast it’s almost comical. She swallows, clutching her phone to her chest like it’s a shield.
I lean against the doorframe, voice low. “What are you doing out here?”
“N–nothing,” she stammers. “I was… just… on my way to the kitchen and I—tripped.”
I stare at her. “So you tripped… into my door?”
Tiana opens her mouth, then closes it. And I know without a doubt that she didn’t just overhear me. It affected her. A lot.
“Tiana,” I say again, dragging out her name. I don’t bother to hide the roughness in my voice—I’m still riled up from fisting my still-hard cock.
“I told you,” she snaps, though she can barely look at me. “I was on my way to the kitchen. It’s dark and the hallway is narrow.”
“It’s eight feet wide.”
“Of course you’d know that, Mr. Architect,” Tiana grumbles, rolling her eyes. “Well, I was on my phone.”
Lies.
She’s flustered and trying desperately to hide it.
“You heard me,” I say quietly.
Her breath stutters. “I—no. I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I definitely didn’t.”
“Tiana.”
She squeezes her eyes shut like she can will herself into invisibility. “Stop saying my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re—” Tiana cuts herself off, color deepening on her cheeks. “Just stop.”
I take one slow step forward. She takes one small step back, breath catching in her throat.
I can feel the heat coming off her skin. “You heard me say your name.”
“No,” she lies breathlessly.
“Are you sure about that?”
I know I’m tempting the devil, breaking every boundary I swore I’d keep between us. But seeing Tiana standing here—flushed, goosebumps racing across her arms—undoes me.
Before I can say anything else, Tiana suddenly shoves me backwards, and pushes me into my own room, closing the door behind her.
She presses her back to it, chest heaving, and stares at me.
I stare back, pulse thundering in my chest.
The air between us is so charged it might actually combust.
She swallows hard. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“You heard everything.”
Tiana closes her eyes for a half second, trying to gather herself. When she opens them again, they’re blazing.
“Can you just stop?” she hisses, stepping toward me now. “Stop making everything weird and… intense and… whatever this is.”
“Whatever this is?” I echo, voice low, “You’re the one who’s playing games, Tiana. Always doing the most to taunt me.”
“You’re the one who loses his mind every time I breathe near you, who—”
“Who what?” I press, closing the distance inch by inch. “Say it.”
“Who makes everything feel… like… like… something.”
My heart punches hard against my ribs.
“What are you really trying to say, Tiana?”
“Nothing, Griffin,” she grinds out, though her voice wavers.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, fighting a laugh. “You can’t lie for shit.”
She scowls. “Shut up, Hayes.”
“No,” I counter, leaning just close enough that the heat between us tightens. “Not this time, Jones.”
Her lips part, and I watch her try to decide whether to shove me away or drag me closer.
Her voice drops to a whisper. “You’ve been acting like you hate me.”
I shake my head once, my eyes trained on her. “Hate would be easier.”
“Stop looking at me like that then.”
“How do I look at you?” My voice comes out rough, deeper than I intend.
“Like you want to…” She trails off, shaking her head.
“Finish the sentence.”
Tiana’s gaze flicks to my mouth, then away so fast it’s dizzying. “Like you want to kiss me. Like you want to devour me every time I walk into a room.”
“Do you want to kiss me, Tiana?”
Her eyes snap to mine and that crackling spark is right there, unguarded.
“Does it even matter?”
“Yes. More than I’d like to admit.”
I take hold of her wrist gently while my other hand lifts to her jaw, my thumb grazing the soft curve of her cheek. Tiana sucks in a breath, eyes fluttering shut.
Her voice trembles. “This is a bad idea.”
“Very bad. But you keep standing here,” I murmur, brushing my nose along hers.
“You keep coming closer,” she retorts.
We’re breathing the same air now, barely a sliver of space between us.
Fuck it.
I close the distance.
Our mouths collide in a kiss that’s been building since the first moment we argued in my damn kitchen—frustration, heat, want—all tangled together in one explosive crack of contact.
Tiana gasps into my mouth. I press her back against the door, one hand sliding into her hair, the other braced beside her head so I don’t crush her.
She tastes like mint and heat and something sweet.
Then, for half a second, my entire body goes still.
This is the first time I’ve kissed anyone in five years.
Five years since I’ve let myself have this. Since I’ve felt a woman’s mouth on mine, soft and warm and real. Five years since my body remembered anything except grief, duty, and the careful, numb routine of surviving.
And Tiana brings me back all at once.
It slams through me so hard I nearly pull away.
Guilt travels but it doesn’t last. It can’t. Not with Tiana’s hands gripping my shirt and the soft sound she makes against my mouth. Not with the way she kisses me, like she’s just as angry about wanting this as I am.
Something in my chest cracks open.
I cup the back of her neck and deepen the kiss, losing whatever thin thread of control I had left. It feels like waking up after years of hibernation.
Her lips part, and the moment our tongues brush, an unfiltered groan rips out of me.
Tiana responds instantly, tugging me closer, her body arching toward mine like she doesn’t know how to stop herself. Her hands fist tighter in my shirt, dragging me into her, as if needing…
“More.”
“Fuck,” I breathe against her lips. “Tiana…”
She whimpers, nothing like the snarky attitude she throws at me all day, and it shoots straight through me like a live wire. My cock responds to her eagerness, still painfully erect.
I kiss her harder. Tiana meets me with the same fire, mouth hot and demanding, kissing me back as if she’s been waiting for this, dreading this, craving this.
I can’t stop.
I don’t want to.
Not when she’s kissing me like this, trembling in my hands.
I’ve wanted her for so fucking long I didn’t even realize how deep it went.
When Tiana finally pulls her mouth from mine, gasping, I chase her lips, catching them again in a slower, deeper kiss that makes her knees buckle against me.
Her whisper breaks between breaths, frantic and wrecked. “Griffin…”
I rest my forehead against hers, still panting, still tasting her. “Yeah,” I rasp. “I know, sugar.”