Page 158 of Love Felt Like This

For now.

In this moment.

Not in an hour or two, though, when I get back to work, back to pitch prep, to seeing just how behind I got yesterday.

But then Griffin crosses the kitchen to me. He takes both sides of my waist, and dips his head to press his lips to mine.

I melt into him. Griffin blindly tucks his palms under my thighs and lifts me onto the counter. I wrap my arms around his neck.

God, I like Griffin, but why does it feel a lot like something else? Like feels so simple for what is so complex.

I’ve never considered that particular forbidden L-word for anyone before—nobody except for the one person it always belonged to. Beverly from high school, from my twenties, from my thirtieth birthday, when it was the first one I spent alone, couldn’t imagine big emotions for anyone else but that one boy, man, and rock star who made my chest ache.

But I don’t know who that Beverly is anymore. She’s not the same woman who took the risk to revive a TV show. She’s not the woman who won’t respond to her ex. She’s not the woman who rode this man the night before.

I like this Beverly. This Beverly who hooks her hands around Griffin’s neck and wants to say more than like. That allows herself to fall for someone who writes beautiful lyrics and loves his daughter and his friends. A man who thinks about everyone before himself. A man who builds others up instead of breaking them down.

“I want to spend every minute with you today,” he mutters, burying his nose into my hair, then pressing his lips against my collarbone.

A door flies open from the hallway. I almost break away, but Griffin steadies his palms on my waist.

He’s serious about this. He wants me. And he doesn’t care who sees.

“Incoming,” Nana says from behind me.

And then from behind her, Rob says, “Oh. What the hell? I definitely don’t wanna eat here now.”

“Diner?” Griffin asks without skipping a beat.

“Diner,” I agree.

So all five of us pile into Griffin’s SUV five minutes later.

I’ll give myself the afternoon, I suppose.

Chapter Thirty-Two

A Leak

Griffin

When we enter the diner, it’s empty save for a few familiar faces—Tom at a booth, Eddie at one end of the bar, and even Daisy, with her bucket hat and flower, sucking at the end of a spoon as she peers over a book. Greg leans on the counter, drifting closer to her when we enter. She peers up and smiles at the same time he averts his eyes.

Rob takes a seat at a booth near the back window, with Pudge on a leash beside him. Beverly’s mom groans about having a dog in the diner, but Nana waves her off.

“Live a little.”

“This is a food establishment, Ma!”

Beverly, Ava, and I tuck into the same booth, sitting across from Rob as we order our usual pancakes and eggs from her dad.

Our usual.

It feels so…normal. Like we’ve settled into this town seamlessly since January. It’s different from LA; mid-February is still blustery in Elk Grove, but I’m getting used to the chill. It’s not so bad when I can warm my hands in Beverly’s.

I wonder if I could be with Beverly long term. Elk Grove is a place where I don’t have to hide. Possibly a place where I could write songs between albums. Find a house.

But…she’s going back to LA, isn’t she? She has her show—she needs her show—and I won’t be the person to deny her that. Plus, I go on tour next month for three full months. I won’t even be in the country. I can’t distract her. Beverly has purpose, and I’m starting to wonder if mine is to ensure she keeps hers.