Page 87 of Griffin

My best friend is outrageous, but it’s a brilliant suggestion. Except …

“I really like him, Shelby.”

Shelby stares at me, her hands clapping to her mouth.

“I knew it!”

Rolling my eyes, I turn to flop onto the pillow beside her. Downstairs, I hear Griffin laughing at Melody, and a smile dances on my lips. He’s such a good father.

Good at everything,I think, clamping my legs together.

“So, are you guys together or what?” Shelby rolls onto her side, staring at me from the other side of the bed.

“We are.”

I can’t hide it, and neither of us can stand the thought of each other being near other potential fuck buddies. Plus, when I’m with him, I feel safe. Secure.

Adored.

I want to rip his clothes off whenever I look at him, but there’s so much to consider.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Shelby whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m going to go. You guys need to talk.”

Shelby sits up, typing away on her phone.

“You said your dad is grilling today. What time?”

I frown, wondering when I told her that. I can’t remember shit anymore — my brain is too full of Griffin-shaped thoughts.

“I dunno. Can I text you?”

Shelby slides off the bed just as Griffin walks in with three steaming mugs. He lifts a brow at Shelby, his eyes moving to his pillow with amusement.

“Am I going to have to throw away my pillowcase now?”

Shelby rolls her eyes, stretching her arms above her head. I gaze over her curvaceous body, wondering if Griffin finds her attractive.

Wait, am I jealous? Of my best friend?!

This is what Griffin does to me. He makes me crazy.

“I’m sure I’m not the first girl to ruin a man’s pillowcase,” Shelby says sweetly, glancing at me. “Text me, princess.”

Shelby grabs a mug from Griffin, inhaling it in seconds. Griffin stares at her in disbelief as she places the mug on the side.

“Don’t you have an internal thermostat?” Griffin asks, shaking his head.

“Not really. I needed that, thanks. Oh, and thanks for letting me stay over.”

Shelby flashes me a grin before disappearing out of the door.

Griffin hands me a coffee, his eyes running over me as the front door slams.

“I love seeing you in my bed.” His husky tone makes me shiver despite the heat from the mug, and he tilts his head to study me fully. “Stay with me this weekend.”

My heart thumps in my chest as I stare into the milky coffee, wondering what I will tell my father.

“My dad is grilling today,” I say, swallowing. “I can come after?”

---