Saving the Beast, page 16
Whispering only loud enough for her to hear, I say, “I’m not going to kiss you, Blair.”
“Why not?” She pouts, and I bite down on my lip, wanting nothing more than to bite down on hers.
“Because you’re drunk. I’m not into taking advantage of you, and I don’t want a room full of people to see how desperate I am when I finally claim those pretty lips with mine. And I sure as fuck am not risking you waking up tomorrow and regretting it.”
Her lips part, and her cheeks burn, turning the same color as her lipstick.
“Come on.” I slide my hand around hers and intertwine our fingers.
“W-where are we going?” Blair slurs.
“We’re going home, baby,” I murmur to her, pulling her tighter against me.
“Thank God. I hate parties,” she admits, and I grin.
I have so many questions that I am dying to ask her, and part of me wants to use a bit of her drunkenness to my advantage. She might say things now that she wouldn’t admit if she were sober. But I never want her to feel like I’m exploiting her for anything.
She passes out not a minute into the drive home, leaning across the middle console, her head lying on my shoulder. Lumi is quietly singing in the back seat to the radio with his head leaning against the window, drunkenly enjoying the ride as we pull into my driveway. When I shift into park, Lumi perks up, seemingly more sober, and hops out of my truck. Tucking my phone, keys, and wallet into my pockets, I quickly make my way around to the front passenger door and pull it open.
Rustling my keys back out of my pocket, I grab the house one, handing it to Lumi, and whisper, “Can you unlock the door? I’ll carry her inside.”
Lumi’s gaze softens, and he nods with a slight smile before turning away and starting up the stairs.
Looking back down at Blair, I study her for a moment longer. There is something so peaceful about watching her sleep, every worry about her dad and money gone, only a look of relaxation on her beautiful face.
Bending down, I reach over and undo the seat belt. Sliding an arm under her knees and around her back, I lift her out of the truck and cradle her against my chest. The second she lays her palm against my peck and nestles her head against me, my breath hitches.
I don’t want to carry her up the steps. I don’t want to put her to bed. I want to stay right here with her in my arms. Tilting my head down, I breathe her in as deeply as I can, filling my lungs to capacity.
As I take a step back, I place a gentle kiss on the top of her head and push the door shut with my foot.
The cool air swishes around us as I carry her up the steps toward my front door, which Lumi is now holding open. Stepping inside, I tighten my hold on Blair, not ready to let her go.
“I’ll get her upstairs. Feel free to take one of the empty bedrooms on the first floor, unless you want to share with her in her room?” I ask, part of me hoping he chooses the first floor so that I can stay with her tonight and make sure she doesn’t puke in her sleep.
He shrugs hesitantly. “I’ll probably just stay with her to keep an eye on her.”
“Y-yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. Definitely. Someone should definitely keep an eye on her,” I ramble, hating myself more and more with each dragging word.
He knowingly smiles as we start walking toward the stairs. “Unless you had other ideas?”
“Nope.” The word flies out of my mouth before he can even finish his question. “Not at all. I mean, she would probably want you there anyway.”
“Okay, then it’s a plan,” he states.
I hate this plan.
Silence stretches between us for the rest of the walk to her room, and Lumi gasps as we step inside.
“Holy crap. Can I move in too?”
I smile at his awe.
But as quickly as pride floods my veins, guilt replaces it.
This house is nothing more than pretty decor and elaborate architecture. For how many rooms it has, most are empty of happy memories.
Well, until Blair got here, that is.
“I’m kidding, Griffin. Don’t look so scared.” He laughs, and I chuckle along with him, allowing him to believe that my fear is of another person living in my house and not of the uncontrollable feelings I’m developing for the girl wrapped in my arms.
Walking over to the bed, I shift her in my grasp and cradle her with one arm as I pull her comforter back. Gently, I lay her down on the bed, and she instantly nuzzles into the pillows.
Memorizing the shape of her relaxed lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest, and the flutter behind her eyelids, I take a step away from her and turn on my heel.
“Good night, Griffin. Thanks for giving us a ride and letting me stay. And beating the shit out of Grant. Lord knows he’s had that coming for a while,” Lumi says, and the mention of that guy makes my blood pressure spike.
“Speaking of him”—I continue toward the door—“can you let me know if he messes with her anymore?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t know who he was or why she hasn’t mentioned him. He never stops bugging her. I’m just glad you were there to step in tonight. Grant can be … unpredictable.”
Clenching my jaw, I assure him, “Don’t worry about him anymore. I’ll handle it from now on.”
“Thank God.” He chuckles, the kind that holds no humor but rather laced with relief.
“Good night,” I say before leaving the room and closing the door behind me.
As I walk into my room, I grab the handle and spin around to close it, but instead I leave it cracked a few inches. Just in case Blair needs me for anything tonight.
Holy mother of God, my brain is trying to break through my skull. Every step down the stairs is agonizing, and I think I might die if I don’t drink ten gallons of water right this second.
“Ughhh.” I massage my temples.
This is my first real hangover, and I never want to experience it again. I’ve never let myself lose control, not like I did last night. Oh my God, I cannot believe I let that happen.
Small moments flash in my mind, and right as I try to grab on to them and home in on the memories, they’re gone.
Starting at the beginning of the party, I have a pretty good memory. I remember how surprised I was to walk into the living room and see Griffin on the couch. Especially since only hours before, he had no plan of attending until I mentioned it. Seems rather coincidental.
I remember the baseball guy who was a bit flirty with me. I also remember Griffin running him off, which was entertaining, to say the least. The energy was a bit weird, and Griffin was insulting him for being a creep, and I don’t know if the guy even realized it.
And oh my God.
He said he knew I was going and wouldn’t let me go alone. Did he mean that? Or was he just keeping the ruse going a little longer so that guy would leave me alone?
My cheeks warm at the thought that Griffin came to that party just for me. Because if he did just go for me, then that means … more? More than simply warden and prisoner. More than student and tutor. More than friends. Although I think we might have been more all along, even if we didn’t know it.
Stop. You’re being ridiculous.
He can go to the party for his own reasons and happen to scare that guy away for completely platonic reasons and then platonically kiss my forehead.
I smack into someone hard as I turn into the kitchen. “Shit.”
“Good morning, my little prisoner,” Griffin’s smooth voice sings in my ears with an undertone of humor.
Squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, I open them again and meet Griffin’s dazzling gaze. “You do this a lot? Party?”
He bursts out laughing. “Having a bit of a rough morning? And, no, not if I can help it.”
Closing my eyes to avoid the humiliation and bright lights, I groan. “I don’t know why anyone would do this. Ever. I am never touching alcohol ever again, I swear.”
Peeking out of one eye, I see him grinning from ear to ear, and I open my other eye.
“Is my suffering amusing to you?” I grumble.
He holds my gaze, studying me kindly before mumbling, “Not at all. But I can’t help but be slightly entertained, thinking of last night. I can’t say I’ve ever seen you so … loose?”
Loose? Oh God, what did I do last night?
An image of Griffin looking down at me, only inches from my face, flashes in my mind, warming my body by a thousand degrees.
Did we kiss? Did we …
“How much of last night do you actually remember?” he asks curiously, leaning against the wall and crossing his ankles.
Racking my brain, I look away and scour as many pieces of the party as I can recall.
That one dude Griffin didn’t like—I think his name was Josh.
Griffin watching me with hunger in his eyes.
My stomach twists as the next memory filters in.
Grant. Grant was there too.
My heart races. He grabbed me. And then Griffin ripped him off of me.
And then … I tried to kiss him.
Oh God.
My eyes widen and fly to his.
Griffin chuckles. “Is that you remembering throwing yourself at me?”
Snapping my stare his way, I scoff, “I would hardly say I threw myself at you. That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
He shrugs. “That’s not how I remember it. I could barely fight you off.”
Cocking my head to the side, I cross my arms and step closer to him. “You are so full of it. I didn’t even try to kiss you. I wouldn’t have.”
Lie. I remember that now, clear as day. I wanted nothing more than to feel his soft lips against mine.
He squints his eyes at me. “Oh, really?”
In one quick movement, he grabs me by the waist, pushes me against the wall, and pins my arms above my head, lowering his face to mine. His warm, minty breath hits me in waves, and I sharply inhale.
“You didn’t want to kiss me? Not at all?” His words are pure lust on my lips, beckoning me closer to him.
Rolling my eyes, I glance away from him. But he adjusts my hands, now pinning them with one hand, and catches my chin with the other, forcing me to look back at him.
I pop the P. “Nope.”
He bites down on his lip and stares into my eyes with such searing intensity that I’m scared I’m going to melt into the wall behind me.
The air around us thickens with tension, like every fiber and dust in the air freezes and anxiously waits for one of us to move, pausing to see who moves first.
“In fact, I barely like you at all,” I tell him, unable to keep the smirk from kicking up on my lips, killing my poker face.
“Really? What don’t you like about me, Blair?” he asks, closing the distance between us even more.
My body is practically shuddering from his proximity.
Licking my lips, I keep a straight and stern face as I list all the things I downright hate about him. “For one, you are funny. It’s distracting, and I very much dislike distractions. Two, you’re good at English, but for some reason, you’re holding yourself back. Three, you’re a hockey player, and the ego is ridiculously enlarged. Four, you’re annoyingly hot, and sometimes, it’s hard to look away. Another distraction. In total, you are really just a pain in my ass.”
“Blair …” His voice, deep and husky, causes tingles to radiate from my head to my toes, pulsing from deep in my core. “I didn’t know you had such a disdain for me. Should I list all of the reasons I don’t like you?”
His lips are an inch from mine, and my chest is rising and falling so fast that I’m practically panting. Maybe I was throwing myself at him last night because I feel like I’m about to do it all over again.
Slowly, I shake my head. “I think I’d rather not know everything you hate about me.”
He smirks. “That’s a shame.”
His hand grazes my waist, his delicate touch threatening my restraint. I suck in a breath at the contact, and he freezes long enough for me to tell him to stop. But I don’t.
His fingers trail up and then down my rib cage until he grabs on to my hip and pulls me flush against him.
Can this level of excitement cause a heart attack? I think I might be close to it.
“Because I have so many things I would like to tell you. Countless reasons why I definitely one thousand percent don’t like you.”
I gulp.
“Like how you always wear one of those cute little bows in your hair when you style half of it up. How you get lost in your books, completely entranced by a good scene that you drift away to another world. Or how you bite down on your lip when you’re concentrating on something.”
I do not do the lip thing. Right? Oh my God, I think I do. No one has ever pointed that out to me before. And he’s noticed my hair ribbons?
I had no idea he paid that much attention to me.
He pauses, and his eyes drop to my lips. My back arches slightly, pressing into him further, and a soft, whimper-like noise leaves me as I feel how perfectly we fit together.
“Wow. You really hate me, huh?” My voice is breathy and desperate, as I’m starved for his touch and his kiss.
His brows furrow, and he whispers, “So much.”
He tilts his head ever so slightly, and when his lips graze mine, a shock electrifies my entire body, every hair and nerve on edge.
“Blair?” Lumi’s voice drops a bomb on our moment, and I jump back. “Oh shit. Oh God.” He winces as he turns into the kitchen and finds us nearly kissing. “Ahh! Pretend I wasn’t here. I’m so sorry!”
“Lumi?” His name is a whisper on my lips as I wonder what the hell he’s doing here. But I quickly push the thought out of my mind.
He scurries away, and we burst out laughing into a fit of giggles and smiles.
My heart still thumps loudly in my chest as Griffin pulls away, releasing my hands from above my head.
“I-I’d better go get ready for class.” My words are a stuttering mess, and I lower my arms.
His face twists in confusion. “You’re actually going this morning?”
“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
The oven beeps, and he walks over to it and grabs an oven mitt as he says, “Because you are hungover as fuck and should chill in bed and rest.”
I take a few steps to the cabinets and grab a glass. “Well, that’s not going to help me keep my perfect grades,” I say as I wander to the fridge and fill my glass up with nice cold water.
He pulls a muffin pan out of the oven, and the delicious scent of chocolaty, buttery goodness wafts my way, my stomach rumbling in response.
“I am going to owe Mrs. Potts my life for making chocolate chip muffins. My favorite.” I swoon and scurry over to the hot pan, eyeballing up the one that I want.
Griffin rubs the back of his neck and leans against the kitchen island. “She didn’t make them.”
“Well, if she didn’t, then who …” I trail off and look at him.
Griffin looks away shyly, his voice barely audible. “I did.”
“You can bake?” I snap, my words racing past my lips in shock.
He glares at me playfully. “Funny. And, yes, I’m an excellent baker. Mrs. Potts taught me.”
“Mmm. Good to know. Add it to my list of things I hate about you. I’m trying to keep a good figure, and you make delicious sweet treats. Not a good combo.” I spin around, smiling, and focus on the muffins. “Come on, little buddy. You are all mine.”
Popping the hot-as-hell muffin out of the tin, I put it on a paper towel and hold it gently, like my most prized possession. Although, in about ten seconds, I’m going to devour it.
I walk over to Griffin before I can stop myself, stand up on my tiptoes, and kiss him on the cheek before genuinely saying, “Thank you.”
“Y-you’re welcome,” he whispers softly and swallows hard, the apple of his throat bobbing.
As I pull away, I find his cheeks deepening into a pretty red flush, and I memorize the image of a shy Griffin who looks so cute when flustered.
Without saying anything else, I begin walking out of the room, but Griffin stops me.
“Do you guys want to get Lumi’s car before class? I’m free for about an hour after if you want to wait too.”
“Wait, what?” I ask. “Lumi’s car?”
He nods. “Yeah. You both drank like pirates last night, and I wasn’t letting either of you get behind the wheel, so I brought you home.”
I don’t remember that at all.
My brain feels like mush for so many reasons right now, and it’s hard to think straight. “I’ll ask Lumi and see what he wants to do.”
“Sounds good,” he answers before pushing off of the island and walking out of the kitchen on the other side of the room, and I can’t help the smile spreading onto my lips.
Glancing up at the clock on the wall, I check the time—seven a.m. We usually have to leave by eight forty-five a.m. to get to class. I’d better start getting ready, especially if we are going to get the car beforehand.
After curling loose waves into my hair and doing my makeup, I pin half of my hair up and add a black ribbon. For no particular reason. Just another day. Definitely not because some hockey player says he likes them.
Lumi is ready about an hour before me, and he decides to wander downstairs. When I’m finally ready, I take one last look in the mirror, suddenly nervous about walking out of the room. Do I look cute? Is this a good outfit?
I picked out black tights, a black suede skirt, and a cream oversize sweater. I’m going to wear some black booties with it.
No, this is cute, for sure. Stop doubting yourself. You never have before.
Yeah, well, I wasn’t trying to impress someone before.
Grabbing my backpack, I throw it on before I talk myself into changing.
As I get downstairs, I find Griffin and Lumi waiting by the door for me. Silent. Both of them staring at me like I caught them talking about something I wasn’t supposed to hear.
“What’s up?” I ask awkwardly.
Lumi shakes his head aggressively, and Griffin mumbles, “Nothing. Ready?”
“Yeah … you guys are being weird,” I tell them as I walk to the door, and Griffin pulls it open for me.
