Page 14 of The Check Down

Maybe it’s reckless, but I bite my lower lip and nod. Once.

The smile that overtakes his face is enough to convince me to follow him anywhere. I have no doubt it’s worked its magic on countless women before me. But I won’t let myself think about that tonight.

Griffin rubs his palms together, a mischievous glint in his eye. “If you trust me, I’ve got a way out of here that—”

“I trust you.” The ease with which those three words escape surprises me, but that makes them no less true. I trust this personable, brawny jock even though we’ve been acquainted for a collection of mere moments.

His charming smile melts and is replaced with a solemn nod. Like he somehow understands what a rarity it is for me to offer myself so freely. “Follow me.”

He strides off, and I follow, doing my best to keep enough distance between us so that it’s not obvious that we’re leaving together while trying not to lose him in the heavy crowd. Instead of exiting through the mezzanine and main elevators, he heads to a mostly hidden door beside the stage on one end of the ballroom. He sneaks a glance around and then opens it while ushering me through. After we step into the small space, his warmth is a wall at my back as he secures the door. Then, he silently leads me through a series of smaller rooms and corridors until we reach a door marked with a stairwell symbol.

Our footsteps echo loudly against the cinderblock walls as we descend, but still, we don’t speak. Once we’re on the main floor, he turns away from the main entrances, from the lobby that has to be teeming with fans and hotel guests. After a few more labyrinthine twists and turns, we exit via a service door into the muggy Memphis night.

I’m out of breath after our quick escape, but I wheeze out, “Where to now?”

“Now,” he says, that charming smile plastered on his face, “Let’s get somerealfood. I’m starving.” He absently rubs his stomach.

My eyes track the movement as I wonder what kind of pack that fabric hides—six or eight?

He bobs his head to the right, in the direction of Memphis’s crowded tourist spots, and starts down the sidewalk, his gait purposeful. Three steps into our trek, he slips his hand behind his back and wiggles his fingers.

The same gesture he made when he helped me from his back seat after our collision. Without glancing back or slowing his movement down the street, he keeps his hand there, his long fingers dancing above his football-honed ass.

Jack’s words from earlier tonight spring into my mind:Try to make some friends tonight, dear.

I reach forward and take Griffin’s waiting hand.

I think I’ll do just that.

Chapter four

Griffin

We keep our fingers linked all the way down 2nd Street.

The sun has tucked in for the night, the twilight sky deep shades of blue and purple above the brick buildings of downtown. The street grows more crowded the closer we get to Beale, but I keep my head down and lead Brynn to one of my favorite restaurants, hoping like hell no one stops us. On our trek, I allow myself one look back. She’s doing her best to keep up with my brisk pace. Her head is down, focused on her steps, but her brow is furrowed.

She’s probably thinking about that asswipe Jack.

I kept my eyes peeled for those brunette waves from the minute Tyrell pointed her out, but still. What were the odds that I’d approach her at the exact moment she discovered her boyfriend cozying up to another woman? I hadn’t seen them when I stepped beside her, ready with a line that was sure to get a laugh. But the devastation on her face made it vital that I find the issue that put it there.

The guys call himCockburn. What an apt moniker.

The second she flashed those big brown eyes my way, I knew I’d do anything to remove her from that situation, even if only for a short time.

Throughout our entire jaunt down the sidewalk, one thought cycles through my head:Griffin, you will not hit on this gorgeous woman tonight.

Because that’s my default when a beauty like Brynn crosses my path. Sure, I could probably charm her into my bed for one night; she’s vulnerable and might be down for a revenge fuck. But in the harsh light of day, she’d regret it. And for some ridiculous reason, I don’t want to be a regret for this woman.

No, I want to be a safe shelter for her. For now, at least. Which fucking boggles my mind.

I’ve never experienced this. This pull to provide comfort to a woman who isn’t related to me. It’s the same urge that hit me after our traffic mishap, but it’s magnified tonight. Like some force out of my control is drawing me to her. Like my body has been taken over by a well-adjusted, mature male zombie. But without the appetite for brains and the oozing guts.

Shit, I spent too much time this summer playingResident Evilwith Tuck.

Am I attracted to Brynn? Fuck, yeah. Is my desire to be a listening ear for her winning out over my dick’s desires? Yep, for the first time in my life.

Damn. Maybe Racy Lacey is losing his mojo.

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