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“Thanks.” I bite my lip, wondering what it would feel like to be under the hot stream with him. The ache between my legs grows, and I wish I had the balls to join him. But I don’t. I step away from the door and head back to the kitchen.
I hate how fucking horny I am just thinking about him. He’s a famous football player, and he’s only here because he doesn’t know anyone else in town except the groom, and he’s not going to bug him. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I squeeze my eyes tight as soon as I hear the bathroom door. I have to keep my head on. I finish breakfast, and the table is set and ready to go by the time Griffin makes his way in.
“Whoa,” he says, pushing back his wet hair. “What a spread.”
“It’s nothing really.”Lies.I pulled everything out that I possibly had to offer. Just a little eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, coffee, and orange juice.
He pulls up a chair, looking awkwardly cute in his t-shirt and gym shorts. I’m honestly shocked they fit. Without ceremony, we both dig in. I don’t realize how hungry I am until I start eating. I silently thank myself for going grocery shopping this week instead of ordering out.
“So,” Griffin says. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“Uh-huh?” I can’t breathe. Could he possibly be feeling the same things as me?
“How did you get into this line of work?”
My lungs deflate. “I was working at a bridal store, and one day a bride came in, and we got on well, very businesslike, but like one step further.” I press my wrist to my mouth and swallow my toast. “She told me she wished she could just pay me to be a bridesmaid instead of having her cousins like her mom made her do. I told her she could.”
“Wow. So she hired you?” Griffin’s arms look huge, bulging against the sleeve of his t-shirt.
“No. But, I got the idea and started doing the legwork. Put an ad online in the bridal message boards, and the rest is history.”
“That’s so cool.” His crooked smile melts my heart. Even over the aroma of breakfast, I can still smell his shower-fresh skin. “So adding wedding date to the menu just came naturally then?”
“Exactly. There’s a lot more opportunities. People are coming into town, feeling weird, and need someone to make them feel comfy. That’s where yours truly comes in.” I wag my brows. Griffin lifts his juice, and we clink glasses.
A small silence passes between us. I don’t want to ask, but I can’t stop the words from spilling out. “So, why are you always in trouble?” A stillness settles in Griffin’s shoulders, and for a moment, I’m certain I’ve completely crossed a line. He lets out a long sigh.
“Um, well.” He chews on the side of his cheek, eyes focused on his food. “My mom died five years ago.”
“Oh my God.” My hand flies to my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” His husky voice grows soft, and I have to lean in to hear him speak. “She was in a car accident. This guy came out of nowhere and t-boned the driver's side. I’d just gotten drafted and was about to play my first season. She was on her way to meet me for one last dinner before the team shipped out for training camp.”
Instinctively I reach for his arm. “That’s horrible.”
“They never caught the guy who did it, either. It was a hit and run.” His fists ball against the table. “This woman worked two jobs so I could play league football. She was a single mom who gave everything to me so I could live out my dream, and she died months before ever getting to see me live it out.” His jaw clenches, then he releases tension. “Anyway…”
“What? No, notanyway.That’s some serious trauma, Griffin. No wonder you’re behaving like you are.”
“I can’t bring her back, so sometimes avoiding the pain is the easiest route.”
“But that can only happen for so long.” I lower my head in an attempt to meet his eyes. “Look where it’s gotten you? But it’s not hopeless. You can fix all of this.”
Griffin glances up at me, looking more like a wounded puppy than a big, strong NFL linebacker. “I think it’s too late.”
“Stop that!” I slap the back of his hand.
“Ow.”
“Of course, it’s not too late. You’re a good man who’s been through some serious shit. You can’t expect to get through this on your own.”
“That’s the problem, Carlie.” His nostrils flare, and I just want to run my finger down the bridge of his crooked nose. “I don’t have anyone.”
“That’s not true. Because now, you’ve got me.” The air is still between us, so filled with angst it’s almost unbearable.
“I was going to ask you out.” My eyes widen. That’s not what I was expecting him to say.
