Page 93 of Cherry Picking
“I’ve heard, in great detail, how much you cared about him. I knew it when we started this. I watched you, little by little, comeback to life. And just now? When those memories of Matty came back? I watched some of that life die.”
Griffin Foster isn’t a sad man. He’s jovial and goofy, hot-headed and passionate, a force to be reckoned with in front of the net, but desolate and defeated? That’s not my Griff.
“Griffin. I don’t have feelings for Matty anymore. Not the way I do for you.”
“I know.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. “It’s more … the memory of that relationship. I feel like I’ll never hold a candle to it.”
I shake my head, and he drops back on the bed to throw an arm over his eyes.
“That’s not true,” I say, getting to my feet and climbing on top of him. I need him to pay attention.
My weight draws his focus, peering out beneath his arm.
“I love you, Griff. You. This relationship right here. This is my Roman Empire.”
His lips wobble, a smile breaking free. “You’ve been spending too much time with the teenager.”
“I mean it. I loved Matty. And I regret every day that I couldn’t give him more. That my fear ended not only a romantic relationship but a friendship I’m not sure I’ll ever replace.”
“Right there,” he whispers, placing his palms on my chest to grip my t-shirt. “That’s the heart of it. How much it still means to you. It’s like you’re still afraid of losing it. That moving on and being with me is some kind of betrayal to a man who left you—who you let go.”
That’s not true. It isn’t. I let Matty go years ago. I moved on.
Then, I think about the aching hole in my chest that still beats out the pained memories of boxing him up. Taking him to the airport and getting that final goodbye.
Most days I lock it away, but tonight it’s busted open and pouring out.
“There it is.” Griff’s bittersweet smile pulls me from my thoughts, and his hands snaking around my neck pull me down to him. “I know you’re in this with me, Riley. I know you want this as much as I do.”
He takes a deep breath, holding me hostage while he gathers his thoughts. “I’m jealous of someone who’s a ghost in your life. I used to feel this way a lot. When we were transitioning from fucking around to caring about each other deeper. It always felt like what you had with Matty was impossible to live up to.”
I slip my arms under his shoulders, linking us together in a silent notion that he isn’t alone. That no matter what he thinks or worries over, I’m right here.
“I want you, Riley Easton. I selfishly want all of you. All this time, I thought the secrecy was killing me, and that’s part of it, but … I don’t want you looking back at every step forward we make. I can’t take knowing that you might be thinking about what could have been if you had been ready for him.”
“What does that mean?”
His eyes that had fallen closed flutter open. They’re deep, dark, and filled with a terrifying kind of honesty.
“It means you were right to leave,” he says softly. “You need to take some time to figure out what you want.”
“I wantyou.”
“And you know exactly where to find me. Once your head is clear. Once I have time to deal with my own issues.”
“How much time?”
The hand on my neck slides into my hair. “I don’t know.”
He lets me kiss him. Lets me pull him so close every hard, rigid line of our bodies lines up. His heartache bleeds into mine. His passion fuels my need.
Our souls dance in what quickly transforms into a tentative goodbye.
Not forever,I tell myself.
That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
CHAPTER 22
