CHAPTER 20

MIA

I haven't spoken to Griffon in what feels like weeks, but in reality, it has only been two days. But the dead silence coming from her apartment is concerning. If it was any other situation, I probably would’ve done a wellness check, but instead, I’ve settled for pinning my ear against our shared walls to try and listen for any movement.

Yes, she might’ve hurt me, but I still can't refrain from wanting to know if she's okay.

She hasn’t tried contacting me, and it's not that I thought she would. Truthfully, I expected to hear another girl through my walls already. Maybe even two. But she’s probably just sleeping over at their place to avoid me. However, thinking of her with anyone else makes me want to hurl.

I know it's true; it's just who she is. She got what she wanted from me, and now it's time to move on.

If it's that simple, then why do I catch myself continuously fighting the urge to turn around at work every day? No matter how hard I scrub the counters or how many dishes I wash, I can't rinse away the ache in my chest.

Because as much as I want to forget her, I hold my breath every time that bell above the door rings. Just for a second. It's almost like I’m setting myself up to be disappointed. What once caused me so much embarrassment, I all of a sudden craved. But now I’m not the same behind the counter. For once, I was completely out of it. I was messing up order after order until, finally, I was told just to go wash the dishes. But I didn’t complain either; I actually felt relieved to finally be able to let the tears slip down my cheeks.

And as if she could feel my own despair, El never left my side. Even during rush hour, she basically said “ fuck you ” to half of our customers just to comfort me. I don't even know how time has passed; it felt like I was repeatedly washing the same dish. My eyes searched for answers for hours, and blood pounded at my temples.

Why can't I let that ginger whore go?

Why am I so concerned for her well-being when all she did was use me?

Why am I pulling my hair out over a girl I met less than two weeks ago?

And why do I deserve the silent treatment?

I'm frustrated when I clock out and make it back up to my apartment. Damn near, pissed.

I’d spent hours scrubbing dishes, trying to distract myself while drowning in questions about why Griffon hadn’t tried to talk to me. None of the reasons I came up with made any sense. I know I should let it go, but I can’t—not even after Eleanor pointed out that Griffon wouldn’t have been sleeping in her living room without a good reason. So why wouldn’t she want to explain herself?

I’m tired of listening to these unanswered questions float around in my brain when she’s next door to me. She should be the one freaking out, not me.

I don't even sit down as I throw my bag onto the couch and head for my kitchen counter. I shouldn’t, and I know I shouldn’t.

But I’m seething with anger and confusion. And as my eyes set their gaze back onto my front door, I don't hesitate before charging for it like a bull.

When I rip it open, I immediately stumble back when I just about crash into the devil herself, completely folded in half with a brown box in hand. But when she looks up, she looks nothing like her usual cocky self. The tear stains on her cheeks look like they’ve never dried, and her eyes are rimmed scarlet red as their blue has never seemed brighter.

“Oh shit!” Her body jerks into an upward position, and for the first time ever, I think I'm witnessing Griffon act… awkward. Her eyes are wavering everywhere as her hands begin to fidget, I know this look all too well.

Is Griffon nervous?

“—Uhh, I was trying to time this right, and I heard your door close. So, I thought it would be a good time to um—”

“To what?” My voice's sternness startles me, but her eyes finally meet mine.

“I’ve never done this before—” I can hear the uneasiness in her tone, but I refrain from cutting her off.

“I’ve never done any of this before, from sleeping on my couch for days to trying to confess my feelings for you. This is all new to me. I’m so sorry I couldn't speak up and tell you what happened like you deserved to hear. But, if I’m honest with you, I didn’t know what I was doing. When I finally got you to start talking to me, I never wanted it to stop. I know that's selfish, but I wanted you all to myself.”

I don't realize I’m holding my breath until Griffon stops speaking. I’m too focused on her eyes being wide and filled with hope.

“And I still do.”

I finally let the air escape my lungs as I catapulted my body onto hers. She doesn't falter or hesitate before wrapping me in her arms and engulfing me whole.

“Mia, I’m so sorr–”

I swallow her words with my lips because I don't think I could have lasted another second without doing so. I know she feels the same as she crashes on me, hungry and passionate. But quickly, she adjusts our speed until we are slow and harmonious. And just as I become wrapped in her silken cocoon of euphoria, she breaks away from my lips.

“What–” I begin to protest, but Griffon quickly cuts me off.

“You're package!” Griffon's bright voice makes me smile, but my brows furrow in confusion as she lowers me slowly until my feet rest softly on my hardwood floors.

“Huh?”

I don't even realize what she’s doing until she reaches back down to pick up a small-ish brown box.

“I didn't order anyth—“

My thoughts cut me off, and my wide eyes quickly snapped up at an already cheesing Griffon.

But by the time it all clicks for me, all I can do is yelp and giggle as Griffon swoops me back into her arms before finally kicking my door shut.

The last thing I hear is Griffon's soft but deep voice whispering against my ear,

“Consider this a special delivery.”