Page 98 of What It Was
I never stopped loving Griffin Turner, and it’s about damn time he knows that.
Today has been one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.
Shortly after we got back from our walk to get donuts together, Griff’s dad arrived in Colorado. Jack didn’t bring his girlfriend, Bethany, this time. He said he didn’t want to overwhelm Cadence with too many new faces at once, and I appreciated his thoughtfulness.
The moment Jack met Cadence, she had him wrapped around her perfect little finger. He cried, which made me start crying, which made Cadence laugh, which got us all laughing.
Cadence and Jack hit it off so well that he insisted he would babysit her while Griff took me to dinner. I was hesitant at first because I didn’t know how Cades would do, and I didn’t want to ruin what had been a great day, but Jack assured me he could feed her dinner and get her to sleep, though he joked that maybe he would stray from some of her bedtime routine just this once.
Griffin was able to get us reservations at an Italian restaurant a few blocks down from his place. He informed me it was cocktail attire, and when I told him I didn’t pack anything to wear to a fancy restaurant, he gave me his black Amex and told me to buy “everything” I liked.
The town car Griff called is just pulling up to the restaurant, so he pulls his hand from mine to get out of the car. I instantly miss the warmth and the feel of his large hand eclipsing mine.
In typical Griffin Turner form, he rounds the back of the car and opens the door for me. He looks downright delectable in his black button-down and gray dress slacks.
“Why, thank you, Hotshot.”
“Always, Sunshine. Have I told you yet how amazing you look?” he asks.
“Only about a dozen times before we left your place,” I remind him. The moment I saw the sleeveless, mid-length red dress with a square neckline, I knew Griffin would love it. He’s always been a sucker for me in red.
“This dress is going to bring me to my knees,” he whispers into my ear before placing his large hand on the small of my back, leading me into the restaurant. My skin heats and a shiver runs up my spine just thinking about how much I love what this man does to my body when he’s on his knees.
We’ve just ordered a bottle of wine when Griff leans over and says, “I got you something,” before handing me a blue gift bag stuffed with white tissue paper.
“Griff! You’ve spoiled me enough today. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Oh, I absolutely did need to. Besides, you know I love showering you with gifts.”
Once upon a time, I did know that Griff loved showering me with gifts. It was his love language.
I open Griff’s gift with shaky hands to find a cobalt blue and white Colorado Summits jersey with TURNER and a number ninety-one on the back. Not even trying to hide my smile, I tell him, “I love it, Griff. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Sunshine. I should be the one thanking you. Now, both of my girls will be at my game tomorrow night wearing my name on their backs.”
Both butterflies and guilt swarm my stomach, battling for the upper hand.
Griff must sense my internal struggle. “Don’t, McKenna. We were young, we made mistakes, but we’re here right now,” he says as he grabs my hand, rubbing reassuring circles over the turquoise ring he gave me. His face lights up at the sight of it.
“I’ve only ever taken it off for volleyball matches.” I’m not even sure why I say it. Maybe to comfort him? Maybe to vaguely remind both him and me that it’s always been him?
Whatever the reason, the moment is stolen from us when a fan recognizes Griff and approaches our table.
“No way, you’re Griffin Turner. You’re my favorite Summits player,” the boy, who can’t be much older than fourteen, exclaims.
Griff holds out his hand for the boy to shake. “I am, and who am I talking to?”
The boy looks like he’s about to swallow his tongue as he replies, “Stinner. Brogan Stinner.”
“Nice to meet you, Brogan. Do you play hockey as well? Here, let’s get a picture together,” Griff says as he stands from the table.
Brogan can’t hold back a grin that takes up almost the entirety of his face. “I do. I also play center.”
They take a few pictures together before Griff says, “It was great to meet you, Brogan. If you don’t mind, we were just about to order dinner.”
“Oh, right! Thank you so much, Mr. Turner. I hope you have a great night,” Brogan practicallysqueals.
Once the boy is far enough from the table, I can’t help but playfully taunt Griffin for his stardom.
