Page 61 of Saving Sophia

“Sophia?” Ethan sounded concerned.

I scrunched my eyes closed. “Umm … I’m okay. A … blanket tripped me.”

“Be careful, blankets can be unpredictable.” His chuckle resonated up the open stairs. Why did I love that sound so much? “Breakfast is about ready. Come down and eat.”

“I’m … not dressed.” I looked desperately around, but my clothes were still downstairs in my bags by the couch. Great. I just broadcasted my nudity to big, scary Griff. The man who called me a brat in need of a spanking and didn’t think I was taking this seriously. Now he knew I was dancing around upstairs naked in a blanket.

“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full,” Griff’s voice echoed up the stairs. A chair scraped, and his heavy boots thudded across the kitchen. “Thanks for the coffee.”

I let out a tiny, relieved breath when the front door closed. At least Griff was gone.

But he was right. I should take this seriously and have a conversation with Ethan. Tell him everything. Give him the chance to back out of whatever we started last night. He didn’t need me and my problems while trying to get this resort up and running. I could move back in with my parents, go back to school. Admit that I had no business being on my own. Do what I should have done from the beginning.

The creaking staircase made me spin around, the blanket whirling out around me like a superhero cape.

“Need help taming that blanket?” He stood on the second step from the top, looking like an underwear model, shirtless, in black pajama bottoms, the tight lines of his bare chest sculpted like a perfect work of art. Like a giant piece of man candy that I wanted to taste.

All the shoulds in my head fell silent while I admired his sleek abs, his bed-tousled, sandy hair, and his utterly kissable dimple flexing as he grinned up at me.

When I told him the truth, all this would be over. Was I being a brat, not taking things seriously because I wanted a few more minutes before this all disappeared?

That new, tiny rebellious spark inside me shook its head.

No.

He took the final step into the loft, crossed the room, and lifted the edges of my blanket like a net, ensnaring me and tugging me into his arms. “Are you hungry?” His voice was a low, sexy grumble in my ear.

I was, but not for breakfast. I reached up to touch his rough cheek, the sharp stubble sending sparks through my fingertips. He nuzzled against my neck, and I saw fireworks behind my eyes.

“I’m not … I’m hungry, but …” There went my mouth again, screwing it all up. Saying something embarrassing. Ruining this moment that might be our last.

But the moment didn’t really belong to me, did it? I needed to tell him the truth. “I … can’t.” I dropped my hand to his chest, half-caressing and half-pushing him away.

His muscles flexed as he shifted, still holding me but giving me room. The look in his eyes cooled from desire to concern.

“What is it?” He let go of the blanket, and I stepped back, hating the space spreading between us. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No … I … you might.”

He took a step toward me. “Talk to me baby girl. Want me to get Ruthie?”

I blew out a sad huff of air and pressed my fingers to my forehead, straining for words that didn’t want to come. If only Ruthie could solve this problem.

I needed to say it.

Tell him.

Rip off the Band-Aid.

“Griff sounded angry …” I trailed off. God, I was such a coward.

“Griff?” He sounded relieved. “Did he scare you? There’s nothing to fear from him, even if he does come off like a surly prick most of the time. He wants you to be safe. I do too.”

I pulled the blanket tight around me. This was impossible. “I’m sorry.”

He frowned. “Why are you sorry? What is it you think you need to apologize for?” He took my hand. “None of this is your fault.”

I jerked away, frustrated. If only that were true.

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