Naomi blinked, and while I braced myself for her annoyance or anger at my presence, I only saw confusion. It hit me once again that this woman was as perceptive as ever, and she knew my actions weren’t lining up with how she’d always thought of me. Hell, I knew how I felt and barely understood why I couldn’t just chill the fuck out and do what she’d so reasonably asked. Back off.
Nate turned around as he put on his own coat, probably checking to see what Naomi was staring at.
“Oh, hey Griff, you calling it a night too?”
I cleared my throat, which was suddenly too dry to speak. Shaking my head, I forced myself to remember what Naomi had asked from me. Her request had been perfectly reasonable, and if I wanted her to stick around and keep working for Brazen, I had to stop myself from so blatantly disrespecting her wishes.
“No, just on my way to the restroom,” I lied. “Have a good night.”
Against every force inside of me, I somehow managed to walk past them and turn down the hall to the restrooms.
When I got inside and shut and locked the door, I wanted to punch something. Instead, I placed my hands on the sides of the sink and dropped my head. The hot spark that had ignited in my chest region earlier was spreading like wildfire through my veins. It was painful and it urged me to do something, anything, to ease the intensity. But I respected Naomi too much to barge out there and treat her like she was still fourteen years old. She was a grown-ass woman capable of making her own decisions. Yes, she’d had more to drink that she typically did, but she’d been perfectly coherent when she’d lectured me and her eyes were clear just now, even if she’d looked at me with confusion. She was in control.
It was me who was losing control, and I had no idea what to do about it. Even as I’d recognized my feelings for her for what they were over the past couple of years, I’d never considered actually acting on them. I couldn’t. It was wrong.
But as I looked up from the sink and into the mirror, I asked myself, why was it wrong? It wasn’t the age difference, not anymore. Naomi was currently going home with someone around my age, maybe even older.
So what was stopping me?
Naomi
I stared at the spreadsheets and graphs on my computer screen for hours on Monday morning, but it wasn’t the numbers in front of me I was running through my head. No, I was thinking about Griffin. This wasn’t anything new, but usually I could compartmentalize when work was in front of me. I loved crunching numbers and navigating spreadsheets just as much as I loved to skateboard. But this morning, I couldn’t stop replaying the encounters with Griff from Saturday night in my head.
I’d seen something in him at the Brazen holiday party that I’d never noticed before, and I didn’t trust myself with it. When he’d come over as I was leaving with Nate, Griff had looked frazzled and, well, slightly desperate. Griffin Perry didn’t get frazzled or desperate, ever, and seeing him that way shook me to the core. It also made me wonder, was it possible I wasn’t alone in my feelings? Every time that thought popped into my head, I tried to smoosh it down.
I was good at reading people, but when it came to Griff, I couldn’t trust myself. It was entirely possible I was only seeing what I wanted to see. And even if my feelings weren’t one-sided, I had to remember this wasn’t like any other guy. The risk was too high. As someone who loved statistics and probabilities, a self-proclaimed math geek, I couldn’t ignore what was at stake: our best friends, our families, our stability. Telling him how I felt? That first move alone could have disastrous consequences.
Sensing a presence, I looked up from my desk to find the man on my mind leaning against the door frame to my small office. He wore an easy smile, eyes soft with something I recognized as adoration. The kind of adoration he had for Summer, his younger sister. The familiar expression on Griff’s face caused me to drop the distressing risk assessment I’d been playing over in my head, but it didn’t give me much relief. It was replaced by a tight squeezing sensation in my chest.
He gestured to his ears, and I remembered I had headphones on, music playing. As I pulled them off, he pushed off the wall and took two steps to reach my desk, sitting on the ledge since there weren’t any other chairs.
“I haven’t seen you come out for lunch yet. Want to grab burritos with me next door?”
I glanced at the time on my computer. How was it already 1:30? I knew I’d been distracted this morning, but it wasn’t like me to miss lunch time. On cue, my stomach growled.
Griff laughed and I stood up, stretching. We ate lunch together at least once a week, and when he paid for my lunch and carried it the couple of blocks to the beach, it wasn’t any different from our normal routine. So why did it feel different?
The picnic tables were taken so we sat on the stairs leading to the sand. It wasn’t a comfortable silence like usual though, at least not on my part. It should have been getting easier over the years to hide how I felt for Griff, but the weight of it suddenly felt nearly too heavy to carry on my own.
As I finished my burrito, Griff broke the silence. “So, you and Nate from marketing? Was that a one-time thing or are you guys...” He let the question drift off and I glanced over at him. Griff was gazing out at the water, not looking at me.
“No, nothing happened. We left together, but went our separate ways.” I studied his reaction for any clue about why he’d asked the question.
Griff turned to face me, his eyebrows raised in surprise, and the tension I’d sensed in the tightness of his shoulders earlier evaporated. I had no idea what to make of this. Was he worried I’d made things awkward for myself at work by hooking up with a colleague?
His hand went to the back of his neck and he took a deep breath. “You were okay though? He didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have?”
“No, it wasn’t that. We were on the same page, but I changed my mind about hooking up with him and he handled it fine. I told him I’d had too much to drink.”
Griff peered at me. “Had you? Had too much to drink?”
I wasn’t expecting Griff to ask this question. I definitely wasn’t prepared for the way he was looking at me. There was this openness about Griffin that I’d always loved, and as he faced me, eyes searching mine, lips slightly parted, I recognized a hopefulness rolling off of him. Maybe I only noticed it because I’d felt it this morning myself, but it caused me to answer with just enough truth to crack open a door I could still close if I needed to.
“Maybe, but that’s not why I changed my mind.” I sucked in a breath and held it as I waited for his response.
Griff dropped his hand from gripping the back of his neck. “What made you change your mind?” He shifted closer to me as he asked the question, and I wasn’t sure if he was doing it consciously or not.
Griff was inches away, and I was sure he could hear my unsteady breathing. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I knew if I told him the truth, I could never take it back. I’d done the risk assessment, and I knew what was at stake.
I felt a hand on my knee, and found Griff had placed his there. “Naomi?” He said my name softly but urgently. And there it was again, a note of hope. He wanted me to answer the question, and he wanted honesty. Maybe he even wanted me to give him the words on the tip of my tongue.