Page 43 of Griffin

“Why would I be mad at you, Griffin?”

“Shit, I don’t know, but you seem angry.” I refuse to start the truck until we’ve had this conversation.

Ivy rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“I’m not angry.”

I don’t know what to say.

If I confront her and ask if it’s about my date with Christina, she might laugh in my face, and I can’t handle that.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to drop you home?” I tense, my fingers hovering over the ignition as Ivy sighs.

“As opposed to what, Griffin?”

I swallow, wanting to push the boundaries between us but knowing it could blow up in my face.

But Ivy is angry aboutsomething, and I don’t like going to bed in an argument.

“You could come and have some beers with me?”

I can barely breathe when Ivy lifts her gaze to me, shrugging.

“Yeah, why not? It’s not like we can sleep in this heat, anyway.”

Her tone has softened, and I relax back into my chair.

The drive home is relatively quiet, and Ivy spends most of it staring at her phone, a smile playing on her lips.

Now it’s my turn to be irritated, but I need to be fucking rational here — so what if she’s texting other guys?

The sun is finally setting, and I appreciate the breeze from my open window. I sigh heavily, and Ivy looks over at me.

“Are you alright?”

I grunt in response, not knowing what to say.

We pull into my drive and climb out, meeting at the front of my truck. She leans on the hood, and I shake my head, lifting her elbow.

“You’ll burn your arm. The engine is hot.”

Ivy lifts away, pushing her hair behind her ear without taking her eyes off me.

I don’t move my hand from her elbow and notice her moving closer. She licks her lips, looking up at me with desire.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“You’ve already thanked me,” I say gruffly, and she shrugs, her gaze moving to my mouth.

“I wanted to thank you again.”

The heatwave is nothing compared to how this girl sets me on fire.

“We should go in,” I say, not moving.

“Yeah.”

Yet neither of us budges.

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