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Grabbing the covers, I manage to pull them over us and tug her to my chest. “Fuck,” I say, kissing the top of her head.
“Was that okay? I’ve never… I mean hand jobs, but never that.”
“You blew my mind,” I assure her.
“It wasn’t as nasty as I thought it would be,” she says, making me laugh.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I remind her even though the act is already done.
“If I was going to try it, I wanted it to be with you.”
“I wish you could stay.”
“We’re not talking about that. Now, go shower so we can head to my hotel.”
“Come with me?”
“Tempting, but no. I don’t trust myself.”
“I’ll be good. I promise.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about. I seem to let down all my defenses where you’re concerned.”
“Good. I want inside the walls you’ve built here.” I tap her chest over her heart.
“Go. Shower. I need a shower and some food and the beach. In that order.”
“You want to clean up first?” I offer.
“Yes. Actually, that’s a better idea.” She kisses me quickly and climbs over the top of me and out of my bed. I watch as she gathers her clothes and scurries to the bathroom. When the door closes behind her, I stare up at the ceiling and process what just happened. Grabbing my phone, I start looking at my baseball schedule and the possible times to go see her. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this. I just know that I have to. I can’t let her go.
CHAPTER 11
Peyton
Today has been incredible. After we both showered, him at his place and me at the hotel, we went to the hotel restaurant for lunch. The guys and Karina joined us, and the entire time, Griffin had his hands on me. His arm around my shoulders, his hand on my thigh, his lips brushing my temple, and holding my hand. His friends raised their eyebrows but didn’t comment. Not that it would have mattered. We’re on borrowed time, and neither one of us was willing to let an opportunity to touch the other pass us by.
“Yo, Griff, let’s do this,” Sam calls out.
“It’s dark!” Griffin calls back.
“That makes it more fun. We have the light of the fire,” Ollie points out.
“I’m good,” he says.
We’re currently sitting on a towel spread out on the sand next to the fire. I’m sitting between his legs, his arms wrapped around me, and Karina is on her towel a few feet away. “You should go.” I turn to look at him over my shoulder.
“No.” He tightens his hold on me.
“I’m not going to disappear,” I tease.
“Not funny, Peyton. You leave in twelve hours.”
Picking up my phone, I see that it’s just after nine, and my flight leaves at nine in the morning.
“You can’t ignore your friends when I’m around. They’ll hate me.”
“No, they won’t. They know you’re leaving.” He buries his face in my neck. “I can’t do it, Peyton, so don’t ask me to. I can’t leave your side right now.”
Karina points at us. “I’m loving this,” she says as she stands. “I’ll be your fourth,” she calls out to Sam.
I watch her as she jogs off to play Frisbee in the dark of night.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Keeping you from your friends.”
“You’re not. I’m making a choice to hold my girlfriend for as long as I can.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?”
“I thought we went over this?”
“We said that we were going to try. We said that we would see if we could make a go of a long-distance relationship. We didn’t really label it.”
“Let’s label it. I’m not letting you get on the plane tomorrow without knowing that you’re mine, Peyton. I can’t do it,” he says, his voice grave.
I don’t even have to think about it. Not after this morning. “I’m yours.”
“Thank fuck,” he mutters, kissing my neck. “I was looking at my schedule earlier. I was trying to find a time when I had two or three days with no games and hopefully no practice so that I can come and see you.”
“Did you have any luck?”
“I think so. I’ll have to wait and see if Coach adds any practices to our schedule.”
I’m quiet while I think about my own schedule and if I’ll be able to hop on a quick flight to come and see him. “When’s your birthday?” I ask.
“November. When’s yours?”
“April.”
“You’ll be nineteen?” he asks.
“Yeah. You too?”
“Twenty. My birthday was late in the year, so I was almost six when I started kindergarten.”
“Damn, and here I thought I could tease you about dating an older woman,” I joke.
Music begins to play from a speaker that’s perched on a cooler. It’s a fast country song, and I know that we’ve line danced to it at a frat party earlier this year. One song bleeds into another until a slow one comes on.
