Yup, I’ve resorted to making my nipples do the heavy work. My brain and my mouth have been tagging him along, but I had to bring in the heavy guns this morning.
The tits.
I feel a little cheap being overly exaggerated with my flirting, but the girls are right: he’s blind.
He’s so blind.
Just the other day I was talking about summer being my favorite season and after we discussed it, he pushed his hand through his hair, chuckled, and said, “Whoa, I feel like I just had this conversation.”
Talk about wanting to shake some sense into him.
Can you see where this is quite infuriating? Do you see what I’m dealing with? What’s a girl to do?
You’re probably thinking if you’re so infuriated, just tell him he’s the guy. Well, yes, now wouldn’t that be easy? But it’s hard when you’ve been pining after a guy for so long and that he keeps talking about this mystery woman that he likes who is technically me but still . . .
Don’t you roll your eyes at me.
Ugh, okay, fine, I’ll admit it.
I’m a coward.
There, happy?
Grow a set of ovaries, Ruth. I hear you, but give me more time, okay? Hang in there with me. Baby steps for me.
The hug with hard nipples is a step in the right direction.
When I pull away from the hug, I pat his chest and say, “You’re quiet this morning.”
“Am I?” he asks, looking confused.
“Hey.” I slip my arm down his, lightly stroking it. “Is everything okay?”
His Adam’s apple bobs.
His eyes float down to mine.
His chest rises faster than before.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he says, reaching to the back of his head where he tugs on his hair.
“Are you ready to go, then?” I ask, chuckling.
“Go where? Oh jogging, yeah. Sure.”
“You’re being weird.” I reach up, tussle his hair, and then start jogging.
He doesn’t catch up right away, but I do hear him moving. Once he’s by my side, I bump his shoulder with mine and say, “Think you’re going to talk this morning?”
“Yeah, I’m going to talk.”
“Okay, then tell me about last night.”
“Um, I watched some TV.”
“Wow, riveting. What did you watch?”
He’s so stiff. A bout of panic hits me, wondering if I’ve made him too uncomfortable. but then I remind myself that he reciprocated my hug this morning.
Arms around my shoulders.
Cheek resting on my head.
One hand slowly moving up and down my back.
“I watched Schitt’s Creek. Have you seen it?”
“Ew, David,” I say in my best Alexis impersonation.
Brig laughs. “That was pretty spot on.”
“Love that show. I started watching it from the beginning. I’ve always had a crush on Eugene Levy.”
“What?” Brig laughs harder. “I think you’re the only person I’ve ever heard say that.”
“American Pie. I don’t know, there was something about him that just made me fall in love.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Are you judging me?”
“Maybe.” He winces when I glance at him.
“Okay, so tell me your secret celebrity love.”
“It’s only a secret if you’re ashamed,” he says giving me the side-eye. “Are you ashamed, Ruthie?”
“Never,” I say with confidence. “I love him and I’ll nuzzle his chest if given the opportunity.”
“Things I never thought we’d talk about on our runs.”
I bump his shoulder with mine. “But glad you are, right?”
“Very glad,” he says, and my heart takes off. Not because of the pace we’re running, but because of the way the man next to me smiles genuinely.
“Ruth, how are you?” Griffin Knightly asks when I step into The Lobster Landing.
That smell. Sugary confections, old wood . . . it’s a warm hug I haven’t felt in a while.
The Lobster Landing gives me a sense of home, of being wrapped up in my parents’ arms again. When I was young, my parents took me to The Lobster Landing every other Sunday and let me pick out something sweet from their fudge counter or bakery. Then we’d step outside, sit on the harbor wall, and eat our treats while staring out at the water. Just me and my parents.
I can’t remember the last time I did that with them before they passed. But since it’s my mom’s birthday today, I decided to honor her the way I always honor my parents: hoping they’ll join me in spirit.
“I’m good, Griffin. Thanks.” I step up to the counter and glance over all the cookies in their bakery case.
“What brings you in?”
I give him a small smile. “My mom’s birthday.”
I don’t have to say any more. It isn’t the first time he’s helped me on this date.
“Well then, let’s get you something special.” He uses the tongs to point at different cookies when he says, “S’mores cookies are new, and some have said they’re better than the real thing.”
I chuckle, loving the sweet charm of Brig’s oldest brother.
“Then we have cherry macadamia nut with shavings of coconut; we brought those back for the summer. And the classics.” He points and says, “Peanut butter chocolate chip, your mom’s favorite.”
I lift my head up and say, “PB chocolate chip please, and one of the cherry ones. My dad would have drooled over it. I think it would have reminded him of Hawaii. He always loved it there. They went twice.”
“I hope to take Ren at some point, maybe next summer.” He bags up the cookies.
“Ever think about proposing to her while you’re there?” I ask with hope.
He winks. “Two steps ahead of you, Ruth.” He hands over the bag and says, “On the house. Happy birthday to your mom. She was a beautiful, welcoming soul.”
Emotions climb up my throat as I give him a soft smile. “Thank you, Griffin. That means a lot to me.”
“Anytime, Ruth.” I start to walk away when he calls out, “My brother being good to you?”
I glance over my shoulder. “He’s been extremely helpful.”
He slowly nods and then says, “Has he pulled his head out of his ass and realized how amazing you are yet?”
And just like that, my skin prickles, every hair on my arm standing at attention. I know Ren wouldn’t divulge anything from girls’ night, but Griffin seems to know something . . .
He catches my hesitation and adds, “Ren has said nothing to me, if that’s what you’re worried about. Just observant. Hang in there, Ruth. He’ll figure it out.”
I chew on the side of my lip and turn toward Griffin, holding the bag of cookies with the tips of my fingers. Vulnerability shoots through me as I ask, “Do you ever think he could . . . like me?”
“He already does, just hasn’t realized it yet. Trust me when I say he’s a moron when it comes to this stuff. Don’t worry, he’ll get there.”
“That’s what I keep hearing.”
“That’s because it’s true. And if he doesn’t, my brothers and I will make sure he does.”