Page 29 of One Hot Summer
“I could stay in here all day,” he murmured, hands sliding up and down my sides.
“Yeah,” I said, and I believed it.
For once, I felt safe. Not because the world had suddenly gotten less terrifying, or because my problems had disappeared, but because when Griffin wrapped his arms around me, it was like being anchored to the ground. Like I belonged somewhere.
Eventually, the water ran cold, and we washed each other off, laughing when Griffin accidentally got soap in my eye and I had to bury my face in his chest while he apologized. He kissed the sting away, his lips gentle and warm against my eyelid. We dried off together and he wrapped a towel around my waist, tucking the end in with unnecessary care.
“Breakfast?” he said, like it was just another ordinary morning.
I grinned. “Yeah. Breakfast.”
We dressed in silence, but it was the kind of silence that vibrated with energy. Every time I caught his eye, I had to bite back a dumb smile. He looked so good in nothing but a towel, hair damp and lips swollen, that it took me three tries to button my shorts correctly. He noticed, of course, and instead of teasing, just grinned and did it for me, his fingers quick and sure. It felt ridiculously domestic. I wanted to get used to that.
Downstairs, I started the coffee while Griffin handled the eggs and bacon. The kitchen was filled with the sizzle and pop of frying food, the air thick with the smell of coffee and smoke and something indefinably his—spice and cedar, maybe. I sliced up bread for toast, feeling like we’d been living together for years instead of weeks.
The table was set, the food was plated, and we were just sitting down when someone knocked at the door. It was a single, heavy-handed knock, followed by the door creaking open.Whoever was on the other side clearly wasn’t going to wait around for an invitation.
Griffin shot me a look, brows knitting. “You expecting someone?” I shook my head, nerves prickling at the base of my spine.
Jumping up, he headed to the living room with me hot on his heels. I heard a familiar voice before I saw the face: “Surprise!” Dalton stood there, a duffel slung over one shoulder, sunburnt and smiling like he’d just won the lottery.
“Dalton?” Griffin blinked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“We finished the work we’d been doing, so they sent us home early,” he explained. “I was going to head back to the city, but then I got your messages saying you both were here. It’s not every day that I get my two favorite people in the same room together, so I thought I’d come surprise you, hang out with you both for a couple of days.”
Griffin tried to play it casual, but his whole body went rigid. “Wow! Well, I’m happy to see you. You just caught us off guard, that’s all.”
Dalton dropped his bag and spotted me over Griffin’s shoulder. “Hey, nerd!” he shouted, and came in for a hug. It was a hard, back-slapping, genuine one. “Damn, it’s good to see you. Life has been way too normal without your weird ass around.”
“Back at you,” I said, laughing as I hugged him. He smelled like airport and sweat and the cheap shampoo they use in hostels.
Griffin closed the door and stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the chaos. “Did you eat already?”
“Nah, I couldn’t wait to get here, so I grabbed an Uber as soon we I landed. I’m starving. You got anything besides the world’s worst protein bars?”
I jerked a thumb at the kitchen. “We just made breakfast.”
“Hell yeah,” he said, making a beeline for the kitchen. Griffin and I exchanged a weighted look before turning and following him.
We sat at the table, me and Griffin at opposite ends and Dalton in the middle, shoveling eggs and bacon into his mouth like he’d never had solid food before. It was surreal, watching him there, so at ease. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him until he was sitting right in front of me, talking with his mouth full and laughing at his own jokes.
He told us stories about his trip: the work they did, the weird food, the beautiful people and scenery. He did an impression of his project supervisor and Griffin nearly choked on his coffee. The whole time, I kept sneaking glances at Griffin, who seemed like he was stuck somewhere between panic and delight.
“So, what’ve you two been up to?” Dalton asked, looking between us with his old, sly grin. “Any wild parties?”
“Not unless you count grilled steak and early bedtime as wild,” I joked, but my voice came out too high and Griffin shot me a warning look.
“We went hiking,” he said, recovering fast. “Adam’s actually pretty decent at it, despite being a city kid.”
Dalton grinned. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” He reached for the last strip of bacon and popped it into his mouth, his eyes darting back and forth between us as he chewed, a thoughtful expression on his face. “So, you guys have been hanging out together?”
My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. Griffin’s did too. “Ugh, yeah,” I said. “I mean, some. When I wasn’t working on assignments.”
I could feel sweat forming under my arms as he eyed me carefully. “And you guys are getting along all right?” Dalton asked, turning to squint at his father.
“Of course,” Griffin said, maybe a little too quickly. “Why would you ask that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought I sensed some tension when I came in. I’m probably just tired. It was a long flight and barely slept on the plane.”
