CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
LONDON
Five Weeks Post-Griffin…
“London, your phone’s buzzing across the counter again.” Casey yells from the kitchen area.
“Grab it. Mom and Dad were going to send me their arrival and departure times.” I yell back as I’m taking off the ridiculous amount of makeup I wore for tonight’s show. “You know, you really don’t have to keep helping me with my makeup.”
“Of course, I do. You need to make sure he sees exactly how bright eyed and happy you are, even though you aren’t and those circles under your eyes totally give you away.” She wipes the last bit of foundation off my cheek with a makeup wipe and hands me my phone. “The messages weren’t from your parents,” she sighs. “When are you going to admit that you still love him and let him make it up to you?”
“Never.”
“London!” She throws her head back and tugs at her red curls in frustration. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
I raise an eyebrow at her through the mirror’s reflection as I rub moisturizer into my skin. Sheesh. I look like I’ve aged ten years in the last five weeks. “He knew there was a stalker on tour and didn’t tell me, which left—”
She makes a talking hand puppet and mocks me. “Which left us vulnerable. I know. Blah, blah, blah. That’s not how it was at all, but you’re being too stubborn to hear that.”
“I hear it. I just don’t believe it.”
She grabs my face and her hand slides through a fresh glob of moisturizer. “I love you, but you are being an idiot.” She wipes her hand on a washrag. “Also… ew.”
“Maybe, but a safe idiot.”
“A lonely idiot.”
Ouch. “Maybe I’m jaded, but I’m not willing to sacrifice Carter’s safety for anyone. Not even Griffin.”
“He didn’t know there was a stalker, London. He just knew there was a dude that showed up at a couple of shows and let his eyes linger on you a little too long. He probably didn’t tell you, so he wouldn’t come across like some over-protective alpha type guy.” She cringes. “That gets to be too much sometimes, you know?”
“Like Nick?”
“Exactly.”
“Whatever.” I flick the light off. “I’m going to bed.”
“You should read the messages.”
I roll my eyes and slide into my bed waiting for sleep to take over. The phone buzzes beside me. Carter’s asleep in the bed across from mine. Case is in the other room, probably complaining to Devon over text about how annoyingly stubborn her roommate is. My parents are both asleep by now. That only leaves one person… I haven’t read his message chain in four weeks. His texts alone were enough to make me almost cave. I can’t let myself break down like that. Case, said I needed to read them though.
I flick my screen and bring up Griffin’s thread. I removed his profile picture from my phone because it’s just too hard looking at him. It’s bad enough having to see him every single day.
Griffin: Are you okay?
Griffin: I saw you backstage today. I tried to ask if you were okay, but… I guess you didn’t hear me. Are you okay?
Griffin: I swear, I just thought I was being a jealous asshole. I didn’t know he was dangerous. If I had, I never would’ve kept the information from you. I just didn’t want to look like an overprotective boyfriend.
I scrunch my face up. Boyfriend? I don’t remember ever calling him my boyfriend, or me being his girlfriend. I shrug it off and go back to reading his bazillion messages.
Griffin: I know I screwed up. I’m sorry, I made the wrong choices and broke your trust.
Griffin: I know you’re not talking to me. I get it. I hate it, but I get it. What can I do to make it right between us again?
Griffin: It’s killing me being so close to you and not being able to talk to you.
Griffin: Do you remember the night we met?
Griffin: I missed my mark that night because you took my breath away the second that I ran on stage. You still take it away, every time I see you.
Griffin: The entire time we were at the autograph table, I was looking for you. I didn’t think you’d show up, then you did. I couldn’t even say, “Hi,” without stuttering and stammering. Not much has changed, huh?
Griffin: I’m still trying to find you. I’m never going to stop trying, unless you tell me I have to.
Griffin: Today, I was sulking. My heart was even heavier than normal, but the second I saw you backstage… The pain left. For a minute, until I remembered. I’m so sorry, London.
Griffin: I miss you.
Griffin: I’m backstage with you right now and it hurts so bad that I can’t just reach out and grab your hand. I miss the feeling of your hand in mine. I miss the feeling of you falling asleep on my shoulder, watching Christmas Romance. I miss you. I miss Carter. I miss us.
Sigh.
London: Technically, I didn’t fall asleep during Christmas Romance. I fell asleep during the credits.
I shouldn’t have done that. I shut my phone off and stuff it under my pillow before I do anything else stupid.
Six Weeks Post-Griffin…
Griffin: We’re having a writing session tonight after the show. We’d all really love it if you and Carter would come.
London: We?
Griffin: Me.
London: I don’t think that’s a good idea. Carter has school in the morning.
Griffin: I could come by instead, that way he can sleep. We could talk.
Griffin: Please?
Griffin: I’m sorry, London.
Seven Weeks Post-Griffin…
Travis: Yo Lon, can you help me out?
London: Sure. What’s up?
Travis: I have this brother who is wallowing in self-pity. It’s been going on about two months now. He stinks. He smells like ass, if I’m being honest. I think it’s a broken heart.
London: Does he know you’re sending me this?
Travis: Please don’t tell him. K?
Still Seven Weeks Post-Griffin…
London: Nash, I need your help. Carter’s done something to his guitar, and I don’t have a clue how to fix it.
Nash: I’ll send Griffin over to check it out.
London: …
Travis, does Nash know you have his phone?
Nash: Please don’t tell him. K?
Still Seven Weeks Post-Griffin…
Adair: Can I ask your opinion on something?
London: Is it about your brother and him currently smelling like ass?
Adair: No, but that is a real issue. It’s about Carly.
London: Sorry! What’s wrong? Is she okay?
Adair: She’s fine. I think. Who’s she out with tonight?
London: I’m not telling you that.
Adair: *crying emoji*
Eight Weeks Post-Griffin…
The sun is barely peeking through the window shades as the coffee pours behind me. The sounds of tires being rolled across the pavement and weights clanking against the metal frames of the equipment carries through the air. I tug on the shade and let it pop open.
Griffin is laying down on the bench with Nash spotting him. I don’t blame him for not trusting Adair or Travis with that job. He told me once that he let Travis spot him in high school and he almost died. I thought he was joking, but now that I’ve gotten to know Travis…
He sits up and is looking straight through my window, at me. Ugh! I tug the shade back down just as quickly as it snapped open. Not today, Mister Rockstar.
My phone buzzes.
Great.
Griffin: Can we talk? Please.
I hate to admit I have to decide how to answer his question. It should be a simple no.
But it isn’t that simple.
It’s the last day of the tour. Casey has me thinking…
Maybe I did overreact.
Granted, it was because I want to keep Carter safe, but Griffin had zero way of knowing who Tommy was. He said he only noticed him because Tommy had been watching me. Jealousy isn’t exactly a desirable trait in a relationship. He didn’t keep the information from me because he knew there was some imminent threat. He kept it to himself because he didn’t want to ruin what we were building.
Sigh.
London: Come over around 6.
Griffin: Really? 6? You got it.
London: Don’t make me regret this already.
Griffin: *Praying emoji*
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