Page 84 of What If I See You

“No.” I shake my head, willing myself to smile at her, but I’m so fucking taken by her, I can’t make my body do any of the things I want it to do. So instead, I force a deep breath and then weakly turn up my lips. “No. Not mad.”

“Then what is it?”

I want you.

I think I love you.

You’re perfect for me.

I want to kiss you.

Touch you.

Taste you.

Claim you.

Anything to just be with you.

I take a few more breaths, each one shorter than the last, as I try to decide what to say and how to say it, and then I grab her hand because I can’t do this here. “Come with me.”

I hand my glass to a bewildered Bodhi and tug Layken behind me as I walk out of the bar and around the first corner I come to where the area is vacant.

“Griffin, I?—”

I swing around and back her up against the wall, my hips pressing into hers, our foreheads touching. One of my hands grasps her hip, my thumb feathering against the bare skin of her abdomen that peeks out of her cropped sweater. My other hand in her hair, my fingers wrapped around several soft strands.

“What’s going on?” She whimpers, her eyes trying to read mine. “Griffin, you’re scaring?—"

“I’m going to kiss you Layken,” I blurt softly before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I…I need to kiss you. N” I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to put the words together correctly in my head so I they come out right when I say them out loud. “No, Iwantto kiss you. But I didn’t want to do it in there.”

Her shoulders fall. “Wh-why not?”

Pulling my hand from her hair, I cup her cheek coaxing her gaze to mine. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was doing it just because people were watching. I’m not kissing you for them. I don’t want to kiss you for show. And I don’t give two shits about that guy in there because you did a damn fine job of putting him in his place and sending him on his way.” I gaze at her dumbfounded and in complete awe. “You chose me,” I say, a bit flabbergasted.

“You’re my husband,” she answers with nervous laughter. “Of, course I chose you.”

“But you didn’t have to,” I try to explain, knowing I’m word-vomiting and probably getting it all wrong. “I mean, you could have…we’re not…but we are…we never said…fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I get so fucking flustered when it comes to you. But I care about you and I’ve wanted to kiss you, like really fucking kiss you, for a long time. So, I’m going to kiss you because you chose me and I’m your husband and you are one hundred percent my smoking hot wife and,” I breathe, “because I fucking want to.”

She smiles, amused, and nods. “Okay.”

“Wait…” I back up a step and stare into her heated brown eyes. “Okay? Did you just say okay?”

She nods once. “I said okay.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

She’s giving me permission.

Right here in this hallway.

I know I should do this in a more private place.

I want to do it in a more private place.

But also, she’s giving me fucking permission and if I don’t shoot my shot now, she may not give me another chance.

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