Page 207 of Fighting the Forbidden

I force a quick smile.

“What are you doing?” Griff snaps at Diane. “I told you to leave her out of it.”

“Griff, it’s fine. Molly understands. She wants to help you win.” Diane takes out her phone, scans the document, then slips it into a folder. She pats his shoulder. “You ready?”

“I don’t know, I?—”

“We’ll get you whatever you need. Sponsors will be dropping off clothes and gear by the crate. Anything you forget, I’ll have someone run out and buy for you.” She nudges him toward the door.

My stomach twists. This is all happening so fast. “Wait.”

I push past Diane and grab one of the leftover waffles on the counter and wrap it in plastic, then turn to hand it to Griff.

His lips tilt. “Thank you, Muffin.”

He drops his bag, and it hits the floor with a thud. “Come here.”

Frantic, I rush into his arms and cling to the safety of his body. “Griff.” I curl my fingers into his shirt and inhale his scent. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I know, baby. It’s going to be okay.” He shifts and turns us to the side. “Come on. Not now!” he barks.

I open my eyes. The blinding light burns my eyeballs again and I squeeze them shut. “They’re filming us?” I whisper.

“I guess.” He growls. “I love you, Molly. A few weeks are nothing. We can do this.”

I gather my courage and pull away from him. Straightening my spine, I lift my chin and try to give him a reassuring, confident smile. “I’ll be sending you winning vibes every day.”

“Don’t worry about me. Kick butt on all your finals. Don’t let any of this distract you, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

I nod quickly. “We’ll finish my car?”

“Yup. And take it to the drive-in.” He leans in and kisses my forehead, stopping to take a deep inhale.

“Win for us,” I say.

He seals his mouth over mine, taking a long, slow kiss.

“Niiiice,” the camera guy says.

Griff curses, and we pull away.

“We gotta go, Griffin.” Diane waves at me. “Molly, it was nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you again at the reunion show or something.”

Reunion show?

Does that mean this goes on for more than eight weeks?

I turn my questioning gaze on Griff, but he’s picking up his bag.

“Call Remy,” Griff says. “Have him come get you.”

“You can follow us downstairs,” Diane says to me.

“No.” Griff and I answer at the same time.

If I go downstairs with them, I’ll throw myself on the car and try to force them to stay.

“Stay here. Lock the door behind us,” Griff says.

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