“That’s different,” I counter.
“How?”
“It just is.”
“Hey, you ladies ready to eat?” Daniel appears next to us. He takes a seat on the lounge chair next to Karina and taps her leg with his. “It’s ready,” he tells us.
“It’s about time; I’m wasting away over here.” Karina stands in her tiny little red bikini. “Lead the way,” she tells him.
His eyes rake over her body, and he grins. “Gladly.” He stands as well and offers her his arm. Then he stops and turns to me. “You coming, Peyton?”
“Yeah. I just need to slip into my shorts.” I stand to do just that, and his words stop me.
“Why would you cover that up?” He waves his hand that’s not linked with Karina’s up my body. “Wait, on second thought, Griff is helping Ollie with the grilling. I don’t want my burgers burnt, so you might want to,” he teases.
“I thought you said the food was done?” I ask.
“Oh, they were getting ready to pull the burgers off when I walked over here, but we shouldn’t take any chances.” He glances over the other side of the pool, where the outdoor kitchen is located. “Never mind, the food is off the grill. We’re safe.” He reaches for my hand and pulls me to him, linking his arm with mine. “This is the life,” he boasts as we walk toward the table and the rest of the group.
“I picked this one up for you,” Daniel says as we stop next to where Griffin is sitting at the table.
Griffin smiles, moves his chair back, and pulls me onto his lap. Don’t get me wrong, I go willingly. “How are you doing?” he whispers low, just so I can hear him. His hand rests on my thigh, and since I’m sitting sideways, I don’t have to turn much to see him.
“I’m fine.” I smile, letting him know that I truly am okay. The heat from his hand on my thigh is so distracting that I can’t really concentrate on replying much more than that. My body is very aware that I’m sitting on his lap in a tiny black bikini. Damn Daniel for not letting me put my shorts on. Griffin is wearing a pair of boardshorts, so there’s not much between us, and I can feel him. My face heats, and not from embarrassment from my reaction to him meeting my family earlier today.
Sure, I wasn’t ready for him to meet my family, but it’s not a big deal. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I’m here for two more days, and then I’ll be heading home to Tennessee, back to college, and Griffin will just be a memory. He’ll be the guy I met on spring break my freshman year of college. We’ll follow each other on social media and like each other’s posts. That’s all this is. I might as well enjoy my time with him, make those memories that will stay with me forever.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, reaching over and grabbing me a paper plate.
“I’m starving, actually.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’m the grill master.”
“I thought that was Oliver?” I tease.
“See.” Oliver points a long finger at me. “Your girl knows what’s up.” He grins.
“He’s not lying,” Sam chimes in. “Griffin makes a mean steak on the grill.”
“Hey.” Oliver slaps his hand to his chest as if he’s offended, but his smile and the laughter of his friends tells me otherwise.
“I’m more of a chicken kind of girl.”
“What? You don’t eat steak?” he asks.
“I do, but it’s just not my favorite. It’s tough, and I feel like I get a workout just trying to chew it.”
“Then you need to have one of mine. They’re so tender you can cut it with a fork.”
“The only steak I’ve ever been able to cut with a fork is the baked steak my mom makes.”
“Well, then you’re going to have to either stick around for dinner or come back tomorrow so I can prove you wrong.” He stares at me expectantly, waiting on my answer.
“All right, almighty grill master. You tell me when to be here, and we’ll make it happen. I need to taste this steak I can cut with a fork.”
“He’s telling you the truth,” Oliver speaks up. “His dad is a chef, so he’s taught him a thing or two. Hell, he’s taught me a thing or two,” he admits.
“Good to know.” I nod.
“It’s all in the preparation and seasoning. We better count on dinner tomorrow night to give me time to prepare. I need to make sure I’m at my best,” Griffin suggests.
“Tomorrow night it is,” I agree.
I’m sitting sideways on his lap, and he leans in close. “How about just the two of us?” he asks.
“You wanting me all to yourself?” I tease.
“Yes.” There is not one single ounce of hesitation in his reply.
“Date number two?”
He smiles. “Date number two.”
“You want to go for a swim?” Griffin asks.
After we ate, he led me to the lounge chair I was sitting in earlier and pulled me next to him. We’ve been curled up watching our friends ever since.
“It is hot as hell out here.” I’m burning up, but I didn’t want to move from his arms either.
“I thought that was just because I was holding you.”
“Smooth.” I shake my head with a laugh.
“What?” He feigns innocence. “It’s hot out here, and we were so close our body heat made it worse.”
“Uh-huh, good attempt at a cover-up.”
He gives me a cheeky grin. “All a part of my master plan. Get you all hot and sweaty,” he says huskily. “Only to be able to cool you off.”
Before I can stop him, he’s lifting me into his arms, and then we’re running. He doesn’t pause before he launches his body and, by default, mine as I’m in his arms, over the side of the pool and into the deep end.
He releases me once we hit the water, and we both swim to the surface. “Not cool, Griffin Anthony. Not cool.”
He swims closer. “Let me make it up to you.” Gripping my waist, he pulls me close, and on instinct, I wrap my arms and legs around him while he keeps us afloat. He somehow manages to swim us to the shallow end of the pool, where he’s able to stand. Then again, it might not be as shallow as I think. Griffin is well over six feet tall. His shallow and my five-foot-six shallow have different meanings.
“Not cool,” I say again. My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s all breathy and seductive.
“I wish I could say I was sorry,” he says, tightening his hold on my thighs. “But it got you here, and I can’t be sorry about that.”
Despite being in the pool, my body is still heated, and I know it’s from his touch. He seems to be unaffected by my nearness, so I decide to try to level the playing field. Squeezing my legs tighter around his waist, I grind my core against him.
“Peyton,” he groans.
“Yes?” I ask. My voice is the epitome of innocence. For the first time today, I feel as though I finally have the upper hand. That is until he adjusts his hips, and I can feel his hard length. We have two very thin layers of fabric separating us. It makes it easy to feel all of him.