Page 27 of A Little Secret

“Yeah, but if you put me down, he’ll get me!”

“He won’t?—”

“He will,” I argue, breaking out into a cold sweat as the reality of the situation crashes into me.

A low laugh escapes Griffin as he tries to convince me to look at him again, the pressure of his hand gentle but firm as he silently encourages me to lift my head.

Slowly, I do.

When he sees my face, his eyes practically pop out of his stupidly handsome head. “Holy shit, Fin. You’re seriously crying?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I pout.

The corner of his mouth lifts as his thumb brushes away the tears streaming down my face. “Don’t get me wrong. I knew you had a thing against frogs, butthis?”

He laughs, and I smack his chest. “I said, don’t make fun of me!” His grip loosens, and I squeeze him even tighter. “And don’t put me down!”

“I’m not gonna put you down in here, okay?” He steps into the hallway, and I force my muscles to relax, slowly sliding down his body. When my toes hit the cold ground, he adds, “You good?”

I nod, and his hand on my waist disappears as he takes a small step away from me. Cool air hits my body, and my nipples pebble, reminding me I’m still very much naked. And, apparently, Griffin is realizing the same thing. His eyes trail down my body as if they have a mind of their own, causing the frog fog—ha!—to finally clear from my brain.

I’m naked. In front of my brother’s best friend. I’m naked in front of Griffin.TheGriffin. Heat licks every inch his gazetouches, and I press my thighs together until I remember this guy most definitely should not be seeing me naked.

Folding my arms and twisting my hips to keep my lady bits from view, I clear my throat and say, “So…about that towel.”

He tears his attention from my cleavage and disappears into my bedroom only to return with my discarded towel. “Here.”

“What about the frog?”

His brows furrow. “What about the frog?”

I wag my hand at the towel. “What if he contaminated it?”

“Bloody hell, Finley.” Dropping the towel, he grabs the edge of his shirt, yanks it over his head, and offers it to me. “Here.”

My eyes trail down his bare torso, making my mouth water as I take in every rippling inch of warm, golden skin. “Speaking of bloody hell.” I grab his shirt and pull it over my head, grateful it’s long enough to cover my ass. “Damn, Griff. You’re looking sharp.”

He scoffs. “That isn’t something you’re supposed to say to someone who isn’t your boyfriend.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having an objective opinion,” I point out. “I would say the same thing to Mav or Reeves.”

“Yeah, but Mav and Reeves aren’t on your boyfriend’s shit list, are they?” Griffin counters.

He makes a good point, but because I’m stubborn, I refuse to give in. “It’s like acknowledging that Sydney Sweeny is gorgeous and Jenna Ortega has kissable lips.”

“You think Jenna Ortega has kissable lips?”

“You think Jenna Ortega doesn’t have kissable lips?” I counter. “And you’re missing the point. All I’m saying is,objectively speaking, you’re looking good, Griff. Keep up the good work.” I pat his chest before realizing I’m patting his very naked chest.

Oops.

Clearing my throat, I lift my hand, adding, “And speaking of good work, there’s a demon in my room who needs trapping.” I snap my fingers. “Chop, chop, Griffin.”

Grumbling under his breath, he steps into the bedroom, and I slam the door behind him, blocking the slimy monster’s escape plan.

“I’ll pray for you!” I call through the door. Then I wait. And wait. And wait.

Pressing my ear to the solid wood, I listen for screaming or croaking or cursing, but there isn’t a sound. Not. One. It doesn’t make me feel any better. Leaning closer, I close my eyes, like if I somehow shut off my eyesight, my other senses will steal its strength, and I’ll be able to hear what’s going on inside the room.

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