Chapter 3

3

GRACE

“ T hat was awesome. What an incredible fight,” I practically scream.

“What?”

I turn to Lila and see her nuzzling up next to the douchey frat boy she’s been trying to get her claws into. She apparently succeeded. He came over about halfway through the fight, and they spent the rest of the bout with their tongues down each other’s throats. It’s been nauseating. At least I had the fight to pay attention to.

“Never mind,” I say.

The house lights come up, the music starts to play again, and the crowd filters out of the Warehouse, everybody still chattering away excitedly. I get to my feet, ready to go, but Lila is so absorbed with Chris that she doesn’t seem to notice. He whispers something in her ear, and she giggles. When she turns her gaze to me, I already know what she’s going to say before she utters a single syllable. She’s so predictable sometimes.

“Gracie, I was wondering?—”

I cut her off with a disgusted snort. “I’ll find my own way home.”

“I’m sorry?—”

Without waiting for her to speak further, I turn and storm off. I hear her calling after me, but I ignore her and walk away, so angry, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was steam coming out of my ears. I knew she was going to do this. I knew it. Why the heck did I agree to come with her tonight? I should have known better. I did know better. And that’s why I want to kick my own butt right now. Lila likes to say she only bailed on me once, but the truth is, she’s done it to me more times than I can count. She’s only left me without a ride once. I guess by her math, that’s the only time she’s truly bailed on me.

I raise my head and realize I have no idea where I am or where I’m going. I’ve been stomping around so mad that when I stop, I realize I’m in the locker room. My heart threatens to stop beating, and my stomach drops into my shoes when I see Griffin Harris sitting in a chair with nothing but a towel around his waist. His shoulder-length dark hair is wet and plastered to his head, and his body is dotted with beads of water from the shower.

I’m trying to force my gaze away from him, but my body betrays me. My eyes roam the hard angles and planes of his taut, muscular body. I’m mesmerized watching the beads of water rolling down his chest and abs, noticing how they glisten in the dim light. He is a remarkably beautiful man. And I thought I was uncomfortably wet before. My goodness. I clear my throat and offer him a shaky smile.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey,” he replies, his voice deep and gruff.

His eyes drink me in, sliding up and down my body in a way that sets my skin and soul on fire. There’s a hunger in his eyes, and I have the crazy urge to let him sate himself on me.

“T-that was an incredible fight,” I say lamely.

“Thanks,” he says slowly. “Um, what are you doing back here? The locker room is for the fighters?—”

“I’m lost,” I admit. “I got into an argument with my friend and took off. The next thing I know, I’m here. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Yeah. I’ll go.”

As I turn away, his voice stops me, and I turn back. My heart is thundering in my chest, my belly is roiling, and my most intimate parts are quivering wildly.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Grace,” I say. “Grace Hill.”

“Nice to meet you, Grace. I’m?—”

“Griffin Harris. I know who you are.”

He nods slowly. “So, what did you and your friend fight about?”

An awkward smile touches my lips. “She hooked up with some guy and bailed on me.”

“That’s shitty. Sorry.”

I shrug. “I should be used to it by now. It’s not the first time it’s happened.”

“She doesn’t sound like much of a friend.”

“Lila is great. I love her to death,” I tell him. “It’s one of her many quirks. It’s annoying, but I guess we all have those idiosyncrasies, right?”

His lips curl wryly. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

“It wouldn’t be such a big deal, but she left me without a ride back to the dorms—something she promised me she wouldn’t do.”

“That’s even shittier,” he says.

“No biggie. I’ll call an Uber. I’m a strong, independent woman,” I tell him confidently.

“I don’t doubt it.”

We stare at each other for a moment, the air between us crackling with an awkward tension. His eyes bore into mine, burning with an intensity that takes my breath away. I shift on my feet uncomfortably as my juices spill down the insides of my thighs. Dear God, I need to get out of here. I need to get home and clean myself up. I’m probably going to have to burn this pair of panties. Except I don’t think something this wet will actually burn.

As I stand there awkwardly, caught between wanting to stay and knowing I should get the heck out of here, I notice a thin rivulet of blood trickling down his face.

“Oh, you’re bleeding?” I say and point to the crimson streak.

He dabs his finger in the blood, smearing it slightly and frowning as he looks at his fingertip. Griffin wipes his finger on the towel he’s wearing, accidentally pulling it slightly open and giving me a view of his upper thigh, and I find myself hoping to see more. He pulls it closed again as he grabs a crumpled-up paper towel sitting on the bench next to him and wipes the blood away.

“That’s not going to fix that,” I say.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

I walk around the room and find a small first aid kit in one of the lockers. Opening it up, I frown at the scant contents inside. It will have to do. Taking the kit with me, I walk over and sit on the bench next to Griffin and get to work. My heart is racing, my hands are trembling, and the heat between my thighs is almost unbearable, but if I hadn’t been busy with the distraction of tending to his wounds, sitting this close to him would have been so much worse. Still, sitting here in my soggy panties is so awkward and uncomfortable.

As barren as this first aid kit is, I thankfully find what I need. Griffin winces and draws in a sharp breath as I use the alcohol pad to clean the cut at the corner of his eye, making me giggle. “You get punched in the face for a living, and you’re going to cry about a little alcohol pad?”

He flashes me a smile that nearly stops my heart. “Getting punched in the face doesn’t sting that bad,” he says. “Besides, I don’t really do this for a living anymore.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m thirty-two now. Probably missed my shot at the big time.”

“What are you talking about? You’re still in amazing shape?—”

Realizing how that sounds, I bite off my words as my face flushes. I lower my gaze to the kit in my lap and pull out a couple of small Steri-Strips, which, frankly, I’m surprised to find. When I raise my eyes to apply them, I find myself staring into Griffin’s gaze, and my heart swells so big, I’m afraid it’s going to pop in my chest. Our faces are so close, it would be so simple to lean forward and kiss him. And my God, everything in me is begging me to do it. To kiss him. To shove my tongue in his mouth and taste that mintiness that’s on his breath.

Griffin smiles at me wolfishly. “Thanks for noticing.”

That only deepens the flush in my face, and I work quickly, applying the Steri-Strips, desperate to get out of there.

“Are you a nurse?” he asks.

I shake my head, doing my best to avoid his eyes. “I’m majoring in Kinesiology. But I’ve had some basic first-aid and nursing courses,” I say as I apply the final Steri-Strip. “There. All done.”

“Thanks for patching me up.”

“You’re welcome.”

I close the kit and get to my feet, darting over to the locker I pulled it from and returning it. Turning back to him, I offer him a smile, ready to tell him I need to go. But he speaks first.

“Want to go grab a bite to eat with me?” he asks.

My heart and everything south of my waist are screaming “YES,” but my brain is screaming “NO” even louder. Nothing good can come from going out with him. I mean, something good could come out of it—something really good, I’m sure. But I’m not going to give my virginity to a man I only met a few minutes ago, no matter how badly my body is aching for me to do so. Smiling through gritted teeth, I open my mouth to politely turn him down.

“Yes. I’d love to,” I say instead.

Internally, I am shrieking and kicking my own behind. That is not what I meant to say. My body betrayed me yet again. I open my mouth again to decline, but when I see the bright, almost boyish smile on his face that makes him look ten years younger, my words wither and die on my lips.

“Great,” he says. “I’ll give you a lift back to your dorm after that.”

“That’s really nice. Thank you.”

“Least I can do to thank you for patching me up.”

“It was nothing.”

“It was something to me,” he says.

We stand there staring at each other, and the way he’s looking at me, almost expectantly, I get the sense there’s something more he wants to say. I lean forward, waiting.

“Umm, I mean, you’re welcome to stay if you want while I get naked, or you can wait for me to get dressed out there,” he says.

I’m so mortified, I want to crawl into a deep, dark hole somewhere and die. Giggling nervously, my face burning so hot I’m sure it’s steaming, I turn away and dash for the door.

“Sorry,” I call over my shoulder. “I-I’ll wait out here.”

When I get back into the main room, I lean against the wall beside the door to the locker room and bury my face in my hands, laughing to myself.

My God, I’m an idiot sometimes.