Page 40 of Fighting the Forbidden

“Thanks. I’d like that.” I finish my milk and set my glass in the sink.

“Why weren’t you having fun at Hayden’s?” he asks.

Ugh. This isn’t a conversation I want to have. It’s a waste of our precious minutes alone. Especially when my brother could walk in the front door at any minute and chase Griff away. “Why’d you leave your party early?”

“To see you.” He jams his hands in his pockets.

I’m going to faint. Deep breath. I tilt my head toward the living room. “Mind if we sit out there instead?”

“Not at all.”

In the living room, I plop down in my favorite corner of the couch and turn on the television. The home screen bathes the room in a soft whitish-blue glow. Griff drops onto the other end of the couch—about as far away from me as he can get.

“Why are you all the way down there?” I scoot closer and lean up against him.

A long moment of silence stretches between us. Griff’s body remains rigid as if he’s thinking through a range of actions.

“I missed you tonight.” He flexes his hand, opening and closing it into a fist. “You really could’ve come with us. I don’t know why your brother’s so damn stubborn.”

I can think of a few reasons why. “I wish I had.”

Finally, he relaxes, sinking against the back of the couch. He stretches his arm up and over my head, curling it around my shoulders and pulling me more firmly against him. “You gonna tell me what happened at Hayden’s?”

Hell no.

“Nothing bad.” I cough and glance away, grabbing the old afghan I keep thrown over the back of the couch and dragging it down over my legs. A chill always lingers in the air of this house. “I thought it was only going to be a few of us hanging out. But it turned into way more people.”

“What about that guy Hayden’s so hot to set you up with? Wesley? Was he there?” he asks in a hard voice.

“I saw him, yeah.” My lips quirk with annoyance to hide the unease that followed me home and only melted when Griff walked in the door. “He’s kind of a jerk, though.”

He frowns. “How?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” It feels so good being pressed up against Griff. Too good to talk about bad things.

A few hours ago, I was sitting next to someone else on a different couch, completely uncomfortable, maybe even scared that Wesley might try to take something from me I didn’t want to give. If I tell Griff that, or even hint at it, he’ll hunt Wesley down and probably try to kill him.

So I cuddle up against Griff and keep the worst parts of my bad night to myself.

CHAPTER NINE

Molly

We had a moment back there in the kitchen. That’s what I want to focus on. Not my crappy night at Hayden’s.

I angle my body to the side and drape my leg over Griff’s. The afghan slips off my lap, landing in a pile on the floor.

“Molly...” My name comes out like a warning. He tilts his head slightly and peers down at me. “What’re you doing?”

The question slices my confidence in half. Isn’t it obvious what I’m trying to do? He kissed me the other night. Said he had feelings for me too. Why can’t I touch him? It’s not like Remy’s here to interrupt us.

Instead of answering, I recapture my bravery. Slowly, I raise my arm and rest my palm on his chest. His heart gallops under my touch.

We’re still for a moment.

Then he covers my hand with his own, as if he’s afraid my fingers will start exploring the hard contours of his body.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when he doesn’t say a word.

---