Page 62 of Cherry Picking
He doesn’t respond with words but with a kiss on my cheek and a quick squeeze of his hands around mine.
That weight doesn’t disappear this time. It grows heavier. Tighter.
I shake my head.
I won’t make the same mistake twice.
“I want to.”
This isn’t about me telling the team I’m gay. That doesn’t scare me anymore. This is about telling them what Griff means to me.
Even though I don’t have the courage to tell him myself.
I open my eyes, and Griff is staring at me with such kindness and understanding that there’s nothing I can do to stop myself from leaning forward and capturing his mouth in a long overdue kiss.
An intentional display of proof that I choose this man.
He kisses me back with a fierceness only Griffin can possess, broad chest pushing up on mine and commanding hands holding me to him.
There’s a round of hoots and hollers, but it’s the exasperated sigh as someone plops onto the bench beside me that breaks us apart.
“Finally!” Rory’s bright grin is near blinding. “Mash and I had bets on how long you could hide it. I think I was closer.”
My smile is automatic, Griff’s chuckle brushing my cheek. “Fuck off, short stack.”
Griff straightens to his full height and smooths a hand down my back. He looks so confident, strong with his head held high and his shoulders squared.
“If anyone has a problem with me and Riley dating, speak now or forever hold your peace. Be warned that I’ll deal with all problems one-on-one off the ice.”
Leave it to Griff to turn the announcement into a threat. Not that I expect anything less.
It’s surprisingly easy and casual the way our teammates come up and give their congratulations, how some just nod from their cubbies and others offer high fives or fist bumps.
Even when Griff starts getting ready for practice, there’s no hostility aimed at me. No jabs for keeping it a secret for so long, no jokes or accusations about checking anyone out in the showers.
It’s like any other day with the Hornets.
Why does that make me feel worse?
Our apartment has become home to our ragtag group of players plus a greasy mechanic who looks none too happy that he couldn’t shower before being dragged all the way here. Not that I blame him, especially since Rory did practically kidnap him from the shop during lockup.
The little troublemaker himself has been running around the apartment grinning and snickering at Griff trying to fluster him, but Rory should know by now that nothing embarrasses Griff. Especially sex.
“Is there anywhere you twohaven’tdone it?”
Griff rubs his fingers over his chin and purses his lips. “Ya know? Maybe the laundry room. Babe?”
He props his hip on the arm of the couch, looking down at me, and when I raise my brow he only grins.
“Want to bend me over the washer?”
Our friends laugh, but there’s a heat in his eyes that’s been boring into me all day. Even the ‘thank you’ blowjob he gave me before everyone came over wasn’t enough to sate him. There have been numerous hints about what we’ll get up to when everyone is gone, but I’m sort of enjoying pushing his boundaries and seeing how long he can hold out.
“Don’t you have guests to entertain, frat boy?”
His nostrils flare hotly, but he leans over the arm to slant his lips over mine with a stinging nip to my lip. “I’m going to wear you out, Easton.”
It’s a promise I’m sure he’ll keep, even as he rushes off to the kitchen where our overexcited winger has latched onto Locke—likely to press for more details.
