“This way, rock star.” I nod my head toward the door to Nate’s office.
“I only want to be your rock star.” He slides two fingers into my back pocket, giving me a playful tug as I open the door.
“I don’t want a rock star. I like my grocery store guy.” And Erica alive again. If I’m making a list of things I want, she’s at the top.
“Hi,” Donna, the blowout lady, greets us. “She’s zonked.”
I glance at a sleeping Morgan in her car seat. “Thank you for helping Nate—er … Professor Hunt out. I feel really bad for running late today.”
She stands from his desk chair, closing her laptop and hugging it to her chest. “No problem. Here are the keys to Nathaniel’s car. He said you’d swap vehicles so you would have a base for Morgan’s car seat. He’s parked on the east side. Lot C. First row on the right.” Her gaze falls over my shoulder.
“Oh … Donna, this is Griffin. Griffin, Donna.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Keys?” I say to Griffin.
He fishes out the keys to my car. I toss them on the desk and take Nate’s keys.
“Well…” I shrug “…I’ll take it from here.”
Donna snaps out of her dreamy state. It’s the same way she gawks at Nate. “Good. Okay. Nice to see you and uh…” she serves Griffin a flirty smile “…meet you.”
After the door shuts, I turn toward Griffin. “A good ego day for you. Now you know where to come if it ever needs a boost.”
He smirks. “College. Work. Gym. Grocery store. It doesn’t really matter.”
I smile. It’s hard. With each step, the reality of what I saw yesterday sinks in a little deeper, permanently staining my memories and my conscience. The adrenaline that spurred me to get dressed and rush here has started to wear off.
Doug Mann is a killer.
My friend was murdered.
Daisy was murdered.
Nate didn’t tell me that. He’s never told me how she died.
“Where are you, Swayz?” Griffin pulls me into his arms.
“Erica’s dead,” I mumble.
He kisses my forehead. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
“He killed her.”
“If he did, I’m sure the police will figure it out. You definitely put him on their radar yesterday.”
“Maybe. Let’s go.” I pull away. “Before Morgan wakes up.”
Griffin lifts the infant carrier. My gaze flicks to his.
“If you don’t trust me to carry her, then we have issues to discuss.”
“I trust you with my life.” I smile, stopping short of telling him that means I trust him with Morgan, because whether it’s right or not, she’s part of my life.
Slinging her diaper bag over my shoulder, I open the door to the dull chattering of students and instructors flowing in both directions. Griffin, with baby in tow, garners as many hungry female eyes—if not more—than Griffin without Morgan.
“Swayze?”
I turn. Nate catches up to us just before we reach the stairs. He gives Griffin a stiff smile. I’m sure it’s the normal reaction to seeing a stranger taking off with his baby.
“Hey, I’m so sorry about this morning.”
He shakes his head as if to brush off my apology; his gaze shifts to Griffin every few seconds.
“Nate, er Nathaniel … I mean Professor Hunt …” Nothing awkward about this. I’m starting to sweat. “This is Griffin. Griff, this is …” Don’t fuck it up. “Professor Nathaniel Hunt.”
Too late. I fucked it up, and the expressions on both of their faces confirms it.
“Nathaniel.” Nate holds out his hand.
Griffin shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”
“So is everything okay?” Nate asks, looking only at me.
“Yeah.”
“No. Yesterday Swayze’s neighbor—her friend—was found dead in the apartment above hers.”
I shoot Griffin a slight scowl.
“Jesus … I’m so sorry. Swayze, why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t be watching Morgan today.”
Griffin has an I-told-you-so expression pasted on his face.
“I’m fine.” I’m as far from fine as one could be. “Griffin took the day off to help me out, even though he didn’t need to take the day off.”
Griffin’s expression doesn’t change. He thinks he knows what’s best for me. And if I weren’t so stubborn, I’d admit that it’s true.
“So …” I shrug. “We’re fine. Morgan will have double the attention. Double the care.”
“Unless, you distract each other.”
I try not to read into Nate’s comment, but there’s an underlying tone to it that bleeds distrust. Does he not trust me because of what happened to Erica? Is it Griffin? Does he really think I’d let anything happen to Morgan?
“We’re good, Professor. But thanks for your vote of confidence.”
Nate inspects me for a few more seconds before giving Griffin one final glance. “I have to get to class. Thanks for coming to get her.”
“It’s fine.” I shake my head like it’s no big deal. “See you later.”
*
“So this is the house my mom gushed over,” Griffin says, carrying Morgan’s infant carrier into Nate’s house.
“It’s just a house.” I wash my hands at the kitchen sink.
“You have no desire to live in something like this?” He deposits the carrier on the floor and inspects the great room.
No. And neither does the Nate I remember.
“I want to live with you.” I take Morgan out of the carrier.
She fists at her eyes and mouth, arching her back as I bring her to my shoulder. It’s weird seeing Griffin in Nate’s house, such a clash of my worlds.
“Having just enough?” He gazes out the window to the unarguably impressive yard, green and meticulously manicured. “Because that’s what living with me is—having just enough.”
Easing into the recliner, I grin. “Yes.”
“Two small bedrooms and a dinky kitchen?” Griffin moves on to inspect the mantle. My tatted bad-boy-looking man wears the hell out of those faded jeans and black tee that looks a size too small with his cut chest and thick arms.
“Yes.” I chuckle, finding his glimpse of insecurity adorable.
“Used vehicles? Detached garage? A do-it-yourself lifestyle?”
“Do I really have to answer you?”
He glances over his shoulder, hands tucked into his pockets. “No.” He shoots me a grin before turning back around. “What’s up with the camera in the corner?”
“Nanny cam or security … I haven’t figure it out yet.”
“He’s watching us?”
“Potentially.”
“Audio too?”
I laugh, looking directly at the camera. “Yes. The professor is a little creepy.” Nuzzling my nose into Morgan’s neck, I find my baby voice. “Isn’t your daddy a little creepy? Yes … I think he is.”
She giggles.
Griffin turns with a grin on his face. “She’s cute.”