Page 122 of What If I See You

My vision blurs as tears spill down my cheeks. I swiftly wipe them away and reach for my pajamas so I can crawl into bed before Griffin gets out of the shower. Lifting off my shirt, I reach for my sleep shirt as the bathroom door clicks open and Griffin stalks out making a beeline for me. There’s no time to catch my breath before his hands are holding my face and he’s crashing his lips to mine.

What the?

“I’m sorry, Lake,” he murmurs in between kisses. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean it.” His lips are on mine again, his tongue against my lips asking for entry and I grant it to him willingly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.” His gaze intent, he brings a hand to the side of my throat, clearing away my tears with his thumb. “You should go to the interview. Hear her out. Then we can talk about it. Whatever you want to do, we can figure it out.” He shrugs helplessly. “I’ll ask for a trade or something if I have to. I’ll make it work somehow because I love you.”

“Griffin.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have acted like an asshole. I’m not that guy, Lake.”

He nudges his nose against mine and I release a shuddering breath. “I know.”

“Forgive me,” he begs.

“Forgiven.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Griff.”

He doesn’t say another word. Instead, he leans down and lifts me up, his hands under my legs curling them around his waist as he kisses me again as if he hasn’t tasted my lips in years. And then he turns and heads back to the bathroom, carrying me with him. The shower still running, steam billows above the glass shower doors. He unhooks my bra and nibbles on my bottom lip and I guess now my plans have changed.

I’m taking a shower before bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

GRIFFIN

Four days.

It’s been four fucking days since Layken came home and told me about this upcoming interview and hospital tour…in Miami fucking Florida.

And for some reason that I can’t put into words, it’s been the longest four days of my life. Though I’ve been busy with gym time, practices, and two games in those four days, it feels like I’m running on empty. Like, I’m just going through the motions to what I fear will be an inevitable loss.

She leaves tomorrow.

And the team leaves for Portland in two days and then we’re in Chicago the day after that.

The Red Tails have become our biggest personal rivalry over the last few years. Ever since Oliver’s sister married one of the birds, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to tease the hell out of them, ruffle their feathers, and then celebrate with them win or lose afterwards. We’re rivals and friends, as it should be, and I’m very much looking forward to seeing them, but there’s been an ache in my chest all day. A nagging feeling that my wife, the woman I’ve fallen head over heels for, is going to go to Miami and will fall in love with this new job opportunity and not ever care to look back.

I’m afraid she’ll leave me.

I’ve racked my brain for ideas, anything to subliminally show her that she loves it here and doesn’t want to leave.

But why would she stay?

Her family doesn’t give a shit about her, so other than me or Corrigan, she has no other ties to Anaheim.

She could start a fresh new life. Make a new best friend.

Marry some other guy…

I know I shouldn’t be putting myself into this depressive state, especially right before one of our biggest games of the season, but fuck if my fear isn’t grabbing a hold of my balls and squeezing the hell out of them.

All I want to do is love on Layken.

She’s all I’ve been thinking about for days.

We’ve had sex every single day since the moment I apologized to her for being an asshole the other night. The moment I closed the door to the bathroom and turned on the shower I regretted every word I said to her. She didn’t deserve any of it. I overreacted and I couldn’t stop myself even though I knew. I knew I was being an ass. So, I turned around and opened the door and fucking kissed her until she forgave me because I’m a fucking sucker for Layken Elizabeth Ollenberg.

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