Page 4 of What If I See You

“Oh Lake, I’m so sorry,” Corrigan tells her. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She turns to me. “Do you have anything she can change into?”

“No.” Layken shakes her head. “That’s o?—”

“Of course, I do. I’ve got a closet full of comfy pants and sweatshirts.” I gesture to my bedroom. “If you don’t care that they’re not the most fashionable, and will be very oversized on you, I’ll grab you a few things. And feel free to use my shower if you want to wash off. We can wash and dry your clothes while you’re here.”

“That’s so kind of you, Griffin.” She sniffles and my chest tightens.

“It’s nothing. Give me two minutes and I’ll have you all set up and ready to go.”

I leave her with Corrigan and run back to my bedroom, quickly picking up any random dirty clothes on the floor and tossing them into my hamper and then I double check my bed to make sure it’s completely made and looks nice. Not that I’m trying to impress anyone, but I certainly don’t want to come across as a slob or someone who doesn’t care. Once the room looks presentable, I throw open my closet and sift through everything I have that could possibly fit Layken’s body without sliding off her completely. Obviously, everything I have will be too big for her, but I find a pair of pajama pants with a tie on the front so she can adjust them and then I grab a t-shirt and one of my hockey sweatshirts so she can choose whatever she wants.

I lay the clothes out on my bed and then step into my bathroom to make sure it’s presentable too. I pull out a couple clean towels and place them in the warmer for her and then meet them both back out in the living room where Layken is wiping her face with a paper towel.

“I’ve laid out a few things on my bed and there are towels in the towel warmer next to the shower if you want to jump in. I can show you where everything is.”

Layken glances at me, her honey-brown eyes the shape of saucers. Her gaze reminds me of a sad lost puppy dog and I swear to God if she asks for a fucking pony right now I’ll do all I can to get one for her. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Absolutely.” I smile at her and nod. “My house is your house. Whatever I can get for you so you’re comfortable.”

“Thank you, Griffin.” Her voice is soft and meek. A change from the woman I’ve known to be peppy, confident, and witty on any regular day.

“You’re welcome.”

God, the urge to wrap her up in my arms and tell her it’s all going to be okay is real, but I barely know her. We’re not exactly good friends so hugging her like that would be weird. She follows me back down the hall silently except for the random sniffling, and for the first time ever, I’m struggling to come up with something to say.

For the love of Christ, say something, Griffin.

Anything.

Put the girl out of her misery.

“Maybe when you’re done you can flip the cock.”

What. The. Fuck?

Mother fucking hell, Griffin!

Anything but that!

Cringing, I turn to see her staring at me, one brow raised. I shake my head and palm my forehead, laughing nervously.

“Shit. I’m sorry. That came out all wrong.”

She chuckles. “You think?”

She chuckled.

I heard it.

She’s had a shit day but there, right there.

I made her laugh.

“I’m sorry. We we’re…it was a…this game…earlier…I forgot you weren’t here and have no idea what I’m talking about.”

With a speck of humor in her eyes, she twists her mouth. “I’m sorry, I don’t. But cock flipping sounds…interesting.”

“I’m really sorry to hear about your job.”

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