14. Griffin

I t's been three weeks since Blair moved in, and I'm losing my goddamn mind. When I ran into her on the stairs that night, it was like seeing the real her for the first time. She was relaxed and honest. It was nice talking with her, even if I avoided opening up to her. It's not personal. There are parts of myself that I haven't faced in a long time.

A flash of her hand on my chest burns into my vision. Something changed that night, and tension started humming beneath the surface in the air between us. I saw it in the flush of her body and the hunger in her eyes.

Then, I almost kissed her in the hallway after class, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

I know we started working with each other because we understood the lines of our relationship and weren't going to cross it. But I don't know if I can keep up my end of that deal. Although Blair hasn't made a direct move and, at times, seems to be fighting her gravitation toward me, I know she still feels whatever fire we ignited that night on the stairs.

She's been all business since our almost kiss in the hallway, and she's trying her hardest not to look at me while we spend hours studying. She's also been putting more physical distance between us during study sessions. Maybe I should try harder not to flirt with her, but I can't fucking help it when she smiles and giggles at a joke I make. It's addictive.

She's been practically locked in her room every day and night, only coming out to grab a plate of food, make some excuse about how busy she is, and then disappear again back upstairs. I know Mrs. Potts wants to spend more time with her. She can't stop telling me how much she likes having another girl in the house. Mrs. Potts has also been baking up a storm, and I'm worried that if she doesn't slow down, I'm going to gain a hundred pounds.

I'll admit, it feels a bit ironic for initially wanting a tutor who didn't want to get in my pants, and now, I can't stop thinking about what it would be like to glide hers down over her hips and throw them onto the floor. Or how her lips would feel as we fought for air between desperate, messy kisses.

Fucking hell, I just need to jerk off before I break all the unspoken rules we set.

Maybe she doesn't like me at all, and she's just trying to get through our time together as fast as she can. I just know that whenever our deal ends and she leaves, I won't be able to let her go completely. But for right now, I need to get it together. Because I still have a grade that threatens to end my career .

For the time being, I'll stay professional. I'll behave for the duration of our little agreement, and then when she moves out, all bets are off.

If you had asked me at the beginning of this semester if I would be developing a plan to win over my tutor, I would have laughed because I don't have the time or energy, but she makes me want to find it.

She is a good tutor, and I'm so much better off with her helping me. I've gotten nearly perfect scores on our quizzes and assignments. The only thing I'm still struggling with is the writing assignments where we talk about ourselves. I hate talking about my feelings, especially regarding my past. It's nobody's business but mine, so I've been lying this whole time. But the more and more time I spend with Blair, the guiltier I feel about lying.

No one will know the difference if I sell my words as the truth. But I don't want Blair to like a made-up version of myself.

It's so much easier to write about a version of Griffin Hawthorne, who's had the perfect life, filled with happy memories, than to dig up the truth. But maybe that's how I've been getting by for so long—by pretending everything is peachy and perfect. I don't know what's happening to me. Before Blair, I was content with the lies I shared with Dr. Schrute and the rest of the world. Now, a pit the size of a black hole has settled into my stomach, making me queasy every time I bend the truth.

Dangling a puck with my stick, I slide gently it across the ice before catching it again and pushing it the other way .

"Hey, bro." Asher rips me from my thoughts and skates over, passing a puck back and forth to himself.

Using my stick, I steal it from him before sliding it back his way. Drifting backward on my skates, I put a little distance between us, and he passes it back to me.

"There's a party tonight at the baseball house. Do you want to go?" he asks, slapping the puck over to me.

In all honesty, I don't feel like partying, but maybe getting out of the house and away from Blair could be a good move right now. "Sure, yeah. What time?"

Asher's eyes light up, and I try not to laugh. I don't go out a ton, so when I do, the guys get really excited about it.

"Fuck yeah!" Asher cheers.

Picking the puck up on his stick, he chucks it at Dean. "Hey, Griff's in tonight."

Spinning around, he's grinning from ear to ear. "Sweet! Mal, you in?"

Malik skates up behind me. Throwing an arm over my shoulders, he stops at my side. "A party? Always in."

By the time warm-ups are done, I think the party might be overrun tonight due to the number of hockey players going. Coach skates out to us, and we huddle around him, waiting for his instruction. He has us start with breakout stickhandling drills to warm our hands up and get ready.

We break out into four groups, each stationed at one of the red dots in the offensive and defensive zones. Three players are inside of the circle, stickhandling to themselves while constantly skating around, but never leaving the confines of the red-painted circle. Then, three other players are outside of the circle, trying to pass through the chaos of the circle to each other. It helps us be better at passing through groups of players in a tight area. After running this drill for about five minutes, the outer and inner groups switch, and we start again.

We run through a few more stickhandling drills before we start scrimmaging, and that's what we spend the next hour doing—running our five-on-five lines against each other. We end practice with a shoot-out on each end of the ice.

After a quick change, I'm stuck debating whether to hang out around campus or go home.

Blair only has one class on Wednesdays, and it's done around eleven a.m. She's been stubbornly adamant about Lumi driving her everywhere—or perhaps adamant about not riding with me. She should be home by now unless she's doing something else today. The idea of her meeting up with someone and hanging out makes my blood boil. I can't imagine she has time to entertain anyone who isn't Lumi or me, but I still can't shake the skin-crawling invasive thought that another guy could be spending today with her. Shit, maybe I should just stay home and skip the party.

"Hey, sweet cheeks." Malik smiles as he walks out of the locker room, finding me lost in my mind. "What's happening in that big brain of yours? You look constipated."

I snort. "Thanks, buddy. What time is that party tonight again?"

"Starts at seven, but we'll probably head over at about eight thirty or nine. Why?" he asks hesitantly and sighs. "Don't tell me you're thinking about backing out."

I assure him, "No, I'm not. I was just wondering. I'm going to run home, try to get some homework done quickly, and I'll meet you guys there."

He studies me curiously for a moment before slowly saying, "Okay. That sounds good. Pick me up?"

He's such a fucking passenger princess, and he never wants to drive himself anywhere. At this point, it's kind of our thing.

"Yeah, I've got you. I'll let you know when I leave."

He stretches his hand out, and we do our handshake before I walk away, forcing myself not to run out of the building in a hurry to get home. I'm just going to do some homework and maybe take a nap. That's it. I don't even care if Blair is there or not. My chest constricts immediately at the thought.

Fucking hell, I can't even lie to myself anymore when it comes to her.

The house is completely silent when I get home. No Mrs. Potts, Chip, or Blair to be found. I know that Mrs. Potts and Chip were going on a homeschool field trip today to the zoo, but I really thought that Blair would be here, and I can't help but feel the disappointment weighing me down more and more with each empty room I find.

Eventually, I give up and decide to shower quickly because I feel gross and sweaty from practice. Walking into my en suite bathroom, I strip out of my clothes and start the water, finding the perfect temp before hopping in.

God, there is almost no greater feeling than a long, hot shower, and by the time I'm done with my routine, the bathroom is full of steam. I wrap a towel around my hips and open my bathroom door; cool air chills the water beading down my chest.

Shit . I forgot to grab clothes from my closet.

A shiver runs down my spine. There's a rather small closet in my bedroom that I only use to store my hockey gear. I keep my clothes in one of the bedrooms, which I converted into one big closet.

As I open the door and step into the hallway, I smack straight into Blair, holding a hand up like she was about to knock. She reaches out, grabbing on to my torso to get balance. My eyes slam shut as I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from doing something I might regret. Like tugging her into my room, grabbing her face, and kiss?—

"Sorry, I was just …" She trails off as her eyes fall to the towel hanging low on my hips.

The heaviness in her gaze is not helping me stay under control.

Her lips part as she studies every inch of my bare skin. Her scorching gaze warms me to the core. My cock twitches, and as the towel lifts, her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush the prettiest shade of pink.

Fucking hell, I need to get out of here before I drop the towel altogether.

Her breathing is shallow as I do something I definitely shouldn't do. Reaching out, I gently tuck her hair behind her ear, exposing that intense blush even more. Her tongue wets her bottom lip, and I bite the inside of my cheek again, hard enough to stop me from pushing her against the wall and finding out how sweet her mouth tastes.

My entire body is on fire, every inch sparking with desire. Shutting my eyes, I hear our breathing fill the silence, heavy, needy, and panting. It's not just me. She's right there with me, waiting to see if one of us makes a move.

And I do the hardest thing I've ever done.

Stepping aside, I walk the four steps down the hallway to my closet and shut myself inside. I'm hard as hell from the almost kiss we had and the thought of finally giving in to whatever is growing between us.

Dropping my towel, I pump my dick from tip to base as the image of her heated cheeks and lust-blown pupils flashes in my mind. Rolling my head back, I imagine her hand wrapped around me.

"Fuck!" I whisper and release my dick.

I can't imagine what it will be like when I part those pretty lips with my tongue and show her exactly how I feel. But until it's her bringing me over the edge, I'm not doing it. It's not a matter of if, but when. Because sooner or later, neither one of us will be strong enough to stay away. As out of control she feels in life, she has the reins when it comes to me.

My emotions have always been a beast of their own to conquer, and plenty of times, they still get the best of me. But I don't want them to control me when it comes to Blair. I won't let them.

When I'm dressed and ready to emerge from my hiding spot in the closet, I tiptoe into the hallway and quickly dart back into my bedroom. I crash onto my bed and type rapidly into my phone, pressing Call on one of my dad's old friend's contacts.

David answers on the second ring. "Hello? Griffin, is this really you?"

"Yeah. Is now a bad time?" I ask, my nerves twisting and knotting together with unease.

I haven't spoken to David since my family left, and that was years ago. I don't know if David hates me for what I did, but I'm hoping after all this time, maybe he's forgiven me.

"No, not at all." His voice is kind, and my shoulders relax. "What's up? How have you been?"

"I'm doing fine. Thank you. How are you and your family?" I ask in return.

"Doing really well. Thanks for asking. You guys have been doing great this season. You've turned into quite the player over the years," he praises me, and my chest warms with his compliment.

I can't believe he's been watching me play. He has no idea how much that means to me. The crowd might be packed with Legends fans at every game, but it can still feel pretty empty when I don't know a single face.

"Thank you, seriously." I pause, "I'm calling because I have a big favor to ask of you."

Two hours into the party, I know I've accepted too many shots and drinks. I'm fucked up right now. The party itself is pretty laid-back, especially for it being hosted by the baseball team. They are notorious for their parties.

I've been sitting on the couch next to Malik for a little while. A cute blonde sits down beside me with a shy smile.

"Hi," she says softly. "Is this seat taken?"

Her hand slides onto my thigh, and I tense up. I scoot closer to Malik, and the room spins a bit as I settle into the cushion.

"Yes, it is," I respond, my words a slurry mess.

Her hand is still on my thigh, and with each second that passes, it's pissing me off more and more.

"Are you here with anyone?" she asks, batting her eyelashes at me and clearly not taking any hints that I'm not interested.

Malik stretches his arm around my shoulders and leans forward, saying, "Yeah, he's here with me."

She squints her eyes and purses her lips. "Sure. Whatever."

She finally gets it and stomps away, and I'm instantly relieved.

"Thank you," I murmur to Malik as my head rolls back onto the top of the cushion behind me and I stare up at the ceiling before closing my eyes. "Wake me up in five. I need to rest my eyes for a minute."

He laughs, but it sounds so far away as I become one with the couch. "Let's get you home, buddy."

"Holy shit, I don't think I've ever seen him this drunk," someone who sounds an awful lot like my teammate Asher says.

I'm too busy watching the light show behind my eyelids to respond, so Mal does it for me. "Yeah, I know. I'm going to get him home."

"Are you good to drive?"

"Yeah. I had one earlier, but once this guy started chugging like his life depended on it, I stopped so I could get him home." Malik chuckles. "It's kind of fun, being on the other side of this and watching all of the drunk people for once."

I start laughing at Malik because that guy is so goddamn funny, and he should know that. Laughter continues to bubble out of me as someone helps me stand up, and my legs are like wobbly noodles as I try to step forward.

As if I can time-travel, I'm suddenly in Malik's car.

I blink again, and we're in my driveway.

Is time moving that fast, or am I developing superpowers?

He parks and helps me out of the car, practically dragging me up the stairs to my front door.

"Where are your keys?" Malik asks.

I dig in my pocket, somehow helpful enough to find them.

"Here you go." I smile as I drop the keys right as he's about to grab them. "Shit. Sorry."

"Jesus, Griff, you're obliterated right now." He makes a weird noise between a sigh and a giggle as he picks them up and unlocks the door. "Let's get you inside."

"Whatever you say, buddy," I sing to him.

He throws my arm around his shoulders, and we waddle inside .

"I should go to bed. I'm so tired," I groan as he kicks the door shut behind us.

Without a word, he helps me to the couch, and I crash onto it, never happier to be lying down in my life.

"Fuck. This is the comfiest couch. It's like it's made out of clouds or shit."

He bursts out laughing. "You're hilarious right now. I'm really hoping it's clouds though. I've sat on that couch before, and I'll be pissed off if it's made of shit. I totally should've recorded you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah …" I grin, sinking deeper into the cushions.

"I'm going to leave your phone and keys on the table next to you, all right?" he asks. I hear the clang of my keys hitting the table beside me. "Let's sit your head up in case you get nauseous. Lift."

It takes all my power to lift my head as he slides two throw pillows under it, propping me up.

"Thanks, Mal. Love you, man."

He chuckles. "You too, buddy. I'll see you tomorrow."

I hear the front door click shut, and just as I'm about to fall asleep, I hear someone walking across the foyer.

Sitting up, I force myself to my feet and mindlessly wander toward the noise. "Malik? Did you forget something?"

I follow the footsteps into the kitchen, and someone who is definitely not Malik answers me.

"Griffin?"

Blair.

My heart jumps in my throat, and blood pounds in my ears, pulsing like the beat of a song that only plays for her. I never want it to stop. She's frozen with a cup in her hand that's half full of ice.

She rocks back and forth on her feet, and a shiver runs through me. I love making her nervous.

"Fuck." My voice is gruff and dry.

The delicate pink silk tank top does nothing to hide the peaks of her nipples pushing against it. I wonder what kind of sound she would make if I took one of them into my mouth. Don't get me started on the matching shorts. They are clinging to her hips, wrapped tightly around her, as desperately as I wish to be.

Her long hair is falling over her shoulders. This is the first time I've seen her hair not tied half up with a black bow. It looks good. It would look even better wrapped around my hand though.

Her lips part, and she studies me. Part of me worries that I said any of that out loud and not just in my mind. Her eyes are hooded, and she's looking at me with a hunger that wasn't there before. Or maybe that's just my stare reflecting back at me.

When I take a small step toward her, she grins and bites down on the inside of her cheek. As I step toward her again, she sets the glass of ice down on the island and backs against it.

She's only a few feet from me, and I'm more intoxicated by the thought of finally kissing her than I am from any of the alcohol I had tonight.

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, and my body twitches. With every step I take, I watch her chest rise and fall faster and faster. By the time I reach her and cage her in with my arms, I can hear her panting, and I would be a liar if I said that it wasn't driving me crazy.

Every day since I met her, I swear she gets more and more stunning. I don't know if it's because she's opening up little by little, and I'm falling for who she is as a person, and it's reflected in how I see her. If I'm finally noticing the little things about her—like the freckles that softly paint the bridge of her nose and her cheeks, the gold flecks around the pupils in her eyes, the way her face scrunches up when she laughs, the way she tries to walks through campus without attracting attention even though it's impossible to not stop in your tracks and notice her. Or the cute way she tucks her tongue between her bottom teeth and cheek when she's intensely focused. Or perhaps it's all of the above.

The words slip past my lips without thought. "You're so beautiful, Blair."

Without thinking, I reach out and gently cup her jaw. She inhales sharply and settles into my touch. Painstakingly slow, I run my thumb along her bottom lip, memorizing how velvety it feels and how badly I want to do this repeatedly.

Ever so slightly, I lean down and freeze the second I feel her warm breath caressing my lips. I want nothing more in the world than to keep going, especially when she's looking at me like this— like it's all she wants too.

I rest my forehead against hers, and even that tiny contact makes my legs feel weak.

Her voice is a breathy whisper. "You're drunk, Griffin."

Tilting her head up with my hand, I stare down into her hooded, lust-filled eyes as I brush my nose against hers, and fight the unbearable urge to steal a kiss. "That doesn't change the fact that you are so goddamn perfect."

She murmurs my name with such desperation that my shoulders quiver. "Griffin."

Wetting my lips, I want nothing more than to lift her onto this counter and kiss her into oblivion. She pushes against me, her breasts grazing my chest, and my dick throbs against my zipper. Fuck, I want her so goddamn bad.

But I don't want her to question my intentions when I first claim her lips with mine. There will be no room for doubt in her mind that I mean business, and there will be no going back. Because once I get a taste of her, there's no way I'm letting her go.

Swiping my thumb once more across her bottom lip, I pull away before pressing my lips against her forehead. "Good night, Blair."

Pushing off of the counter, I spin around and head upstairs to crawl into bed.

After I slide between the sheets, I touch my tingling lips and fall asleep, thinking of what it will be like when she's mine.