Page 92 of Griffin

Griffin waves a hand at his face.

“Even like this?”

Kissing the tip of his nose, I whisper, “Yes.”

We rest against one another, my lips hovering over his as I let them brush against one another.

“Mmm,” Griffin groans, shifting me onto his lap as he stares at me. “Kiss me again.”

“But your lip … ” I protest as he pulls me toward him, his tongue sweeping over my lips, begging for entrance.

I can’t resist him, even when the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. My hands cup his face as we kiss slowly, and despite what he says, I take care not to press my lips too hard against his.

“Ivy.”

I pull away from his mouth, smiling lazily at him as I tilt my head.

“Yeah?”

Griffin swallows, his fingers making idle circles on my hips as he takes a breath.

“Your dad was right about one thing. I don’t want to hold you back from anything.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek to let his words wash over me, fighting the anxiety rising in my chest. My dad wants me to see the world and make sure I’ve experienced life as much as possible. I get it; I do. But Griffin is my life.

Little Melody too.

“What if what I want is under this roof?” I ask him, searching his eyes. He exhales, shaking his head slightly.

My heart somersaults at his expression, which is a mixture of guilt and sadness. I may be twenty-one, but I’m not stupid. I want Griffin and whatever that means for my life.

“How do you know that, though?” Griffin pauses, sweeping my hair behind my ear. “Don’t you want to try?”

His voice is hoarse like he’s in pain. We’ve barely been exclusive for a few days, and he’s offering me a way out.

“Try what, exactly?” I challenge him, crossing my arms. “Move to the big city, get a new job, and sleep with strangers?”

His eyes flash at my words, his fingers reaching out to circle my wrists.

“The first two, yeah. You could try that.” Griffin’s jaw tenses and I shake my head, trying to pull my hands away from his.

“But I want you. Isn’t that enough?” I bite my lip as tears sting my eyes.

Griffin looks up at me, and my heart skips a beat.

“Ivy, I think it’s pretty clear I’m in love with you.”

A smile stretches across my face, causing my cheeks to ache and my soul to sing.

Griffin is in love with me?

“What?!” I half laugh, waiting for him to elaborate.

He doesn’t.

He shrugs, pulling me closer to him by my wrists. He smells of soap and a scent that’s entirely his own, and I’m here for it.

“But … ” I can’t even finish my sentence. Every argument about him loving me feels invalid. I’ve known him for a long time — it isn’t like we’ve just met. I feel safe with him. He’s all I think about. I crave his company all the time. I love seeing him smile … I love knowing he’s mine, how he didn’t retaliate when my dad hit him — I love …

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