Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Dizzy, I shook my head. “I speak three languages and I’m still not sure what you just said.”
She took a breath and closed her eyes a second. “Griffin had the parts for your car for over a week before he put them in.”
My mouth fell open. “What?”
“He didn’t install them because he didn’t want you to go.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“Believe it. McIntyre found them, confronted him, and he admitted it. Oh, he made up some bullshit story about wanting to surprise you, but we both know what’s what. McIntyre told Emily, Emily told me, and I asked him if it was true.”
“And he said it was?”
She nodded. “He did. He was pissed as hell that his secret was out, but he didn’t deny it. He was falling for you, Blair,” she said. “And when he realized it, he panicked and retreated, just like Frannie said. Because he thinks that will be easier than taking a chance on love again.”
Of course, I knew there was more to it than that, but Griffin had told me things in confidence I’d never whisper to another soul. “Maybe.”
“I only hope he gets over himself before it’s too late. I mean, look at this place.” She held out her arms and glanced around. “It’s beautiful here. You have a great job. You’ve got a built-in family. And pretty soon, some guy is going to come walking into that coffee shop, eat a bite of that strata, and fall to his knees. It’ll be too late for Griffin.”
I sighed. “Part of me hopes you’re right.”
“And the other part?”
“That would be my heart.” Smiling sadly, I lifted my shoulders. “And it’s set on someone I can’t have.”
Twenty-Three
Griffin
Since the league championship would be played on Saturday of Labor Day weekend, we didn’t have a game on Thursday. Instead, the team got together for an extra practice, during which we felt pretty good. We were confident our last game had been an aberration and looked forward to decimating the Mavs in this weekend’s matchup.
Well, most of us were looking forward to it. I couldn’t seem to work up much excitement about anything these days. Not even baseball.
On Friday after work, I went over to Cole’s house for a run. When I got there, Mariah was jump-roping in the driveway.
“Hey, kiddo,” I said. “What’s new?”
She shrugged. “Nothing much. Lots of my friends are out of town for the holiday weekend, so I’m kind of bored.”
“Well, there’s going to be lots to do tomorrow. We’re having a big party at the garage.”
Her face lit up. “I know. Miss Cheyenne asked me if I wanted to help her run the cakewalk. I’m going to play the music.”
“Perfect. We’ll need lots of help, because we’re going to be really busy. I hope.” I crossed my fingers and held them up.
Cole came out a minute later, and we set off at our warm-up pace.
“How was your week?” he asked.
“Fine,” I answered.
A total lie. I’d been miserable since Blair left. It had been ten days, and every one of them seemed more lifeless and flat. Just twenty-four hours to get through before another one started over again. There were no bright spots whatsoever.
I missed her behind the desk at work—my mother was back in the chair, passive-aggressively ignoring me with her sighs and silences—I missed her smile and her voice and her scent in my apartment at night. I missed her singing that song about the rainbow in the shower, loud and off-key. I missed holding her close at bedtime, and every time I opened my closet door, I saw that fucking dress hanging there. Haunting me.
But I couldn’t let it go. The sight of it draped over the dumpster had gutted me, and I’d snuck it up to my apartment when no one was looking. I’d even had it dry-cleaned, and when the woman behind the counter had raised an eyebrow at me, I’d given her my grouchiest glare and said, “Don’t. Ask.”
“Should be a fun day tomorrow,” Cole said.
“Yeah.”
“And a good game.”
“I guess.”
“You guess?” Cole looked over at me like I was nuts. “We’ve been waiting all summer for this game. And your family has put a lot into the party, haven’t they?”
“Yeah. Blair did most of the legwork.” God, why had I used that word? Now I was thinking about her legs.
“Think she’ll make an appearance?”
“Nah.”
“Why not?”
“Because I told her she had to go, and she knew that I meant it.”
“I thought you said it was a mutual decision.”
“When did I say that?”
“Last week at the game we lost to the Mavs.”
“Oh.” I gritted my teeth. “I lied. It wasn’t mutual. She wanted to stay, and I told her she had to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I had to!” Suddenly words were tumbling from my mouth like an avalanche. “I was starting to feel things for her that were not okay. I kept getting distracted by these stupid ideas about us.”