Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“But you go home every weekend,” she implores.
Only every weekend since I found out Griff was back.
Well, even before Griff returned, I went home on the weekends pretty frequently.
At least Remy doesn’t seem to mind that I return so often. Part of me had worried as soon as I moved into the dorms, he’d change the locks and be annoyed if I returned on the weekends. But so far, he seems happy whenever I text him to say I’m coming home. Best of all, he’s been keeping his usual parade of one-night stands away from the house when I’m there.
Denise helps me carry my stuff out to my car, making me feel worse for ditching her. “I really wanted you to meet this guy I’ve been talking to,” she says after I slam my trunk shut.
“Are you meeting him for the first time?”
“No.” A shy hint of a smile flickers at the corners of her mouth.
“Maybe Thursday? Laura said she wanted to go to trivia night at the Fickle Toad.”
She raises hopeful eyebrows. “You’ll go?”
“Sure.”
“Yay!” She wraps her arms around me for a brief hug. “Drive safe.”
“Thanks.” Guilt tags along as I slide into the front seat. Why do I feel bad? Denise and I get along but we’re not super close. Or am I embarrassed because I’m still homesick so often? I spent years wanting to get away from Johnsonville. How can I want to go home all the time?
Okay, this weekend I want to see Griff.
I haven’t stopped thinking about his visit the other day. Haven’t been back to the cafe yet, either. Just in case phone-number girl wants to serve me a sneezer-latte.
The reminder of the woman who so brazenly wrote her phone number on a coffee cup for Griff dims my enthusiasm. Why am I torturing myself like this? Griff’s time home is temporary. He may not see it yet, but it is. And I’m still so ashamed about destroying my car, I can barely look him in the eye. When he visited me here, it was somehow different. I could almost pretend none of it ever happened.
But when I’m home, it’s impossible to forget. It’s why, even though I unblocked him and sent him the one text and selfie, I haven’t contacted him since.
Except for his short replies, he hasn’t reached out again, either.
Worried Griff will be at the house, I stop by the bar to see Remy first.
And promptly run into Griff.
I can’t catch a break.
He’s sitting on a stool near the front door. A wide smile brightens his face as I step inside.
“Since when do we need a bouncer?” I ask, a bit more snippy than I intended.
His expression smooths into indifference. “Your brother asked me to watch the door. So, I’m watching the door. Why are you here?”
I guess I deserve that. Answering that I didn’t want to run into him at the house seems obnoxious. “I knew no one would be home, so I stopped by to see if Remy needs help.”
He nods quickly and jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s in the back.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be seen in public?” Why did that sound so snotty too? We had a nice morning the other day. Why am I so unsettled seeing him here?
He slides off the stool, wincing slightly as he puts weight on his knee. “Unfortunately, it’s not that busy yet.” He turns away and walks into the main part of the bar.
Not sure what else to do, I follow. He’s right. We only have two patrons. But it’s still early. People who commute to Empire and normally stop in for a drink on their way home probably haven’t even left their offices yet.
I wave to Anderson behind the bar before turning left and heading down the long hallway to Remy’s office. The door’s open a crack, so I push it wider.
“Hey, big brother. I’m home.” I hold my arms open wide and grin at him.
He lifts his head from the piles of papers spread out in front of him on the desk. “Hey, kiddo. How was your drive?”
“Snow-free.”
He bites his lip and chuckles. “Come here.” He stands and moves around the side of the desk, meeting me in the middle of the cramped office for a quick hug.
“Do you want something for dinner?”
“I could eat a slice of pizza.”
He lifts his chin toward the hallway. “Is it still dead out there?”
“Pretty much,” Griff says.
I hadn’t realized Griff was still behind me. I turn and he’s leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on me. Why does such a casual pose make him look so…climb-able?
“Grab a table. I’ll bring something out for you,” Remy says to me.
“Thanks.” I slide past Griff—who doesn’t bother moving an inch out of my way. Electricity skitters over my shoulder as it brushes against his arm.