Making Up (Shacking Up 4)

“I don’t want you to.” He sets down his drink and scoots his chair closer until his knee touches mine and the little hairs tickle my skin. “I want you exactly as you are.”

I blow out a long breath. “That’s the only way you’ll get me.”

He picks up my hand and plays with my fingers. He peeks up at me, and it makes him look a lot younger than he is. “So you’ll give me another chance?”

“I want to.”

“But?” His fingers flex around mine.

“Long-distance relationships aren’t easy, and based on what happened with Imogen, I’m going to go ahead and speculate that you might have a few trust issues going into this.”

“I’ll do my best not to let that interfere, but I might need a little extra reassurance that we’re in this together if you’re willing to try handling me and all my baggage.”

I squeeze his hand. “I need time to digest all of this.”

His face falls.

“That isn’t me saying no. It’s just . . . a lot to handle. I’ve spent the past month trying to get over you, and now you’re here telling me there’s nothing in the way anymore. Except you’ve been seriously screwed over by someone else, and while that isn’t necessarily a deterrent to getting back together, it also makes me wonder if part of the reason you want me back is to help you get over what Imogen did to you.”

“That’s not the reason I’m here.”

“I want to believe you, Griffin, I really do, but I need time to self-reflect before I go diving headfirst back into this thing with you. My heart was just starting to heal. I don’t want it tromped all over again.”

“But I won’t—”

“Not intentionally, no. Give me a little more time to sort my feelings out.”

He exhales an unsteady breath. “How much time?”

“I’m on the ship for two more weeks.”

He looks like he wants to negotiate, but he heaves a sigh instead. “You dock in New York, right?”

“I do. I can call you when I get to port.”

“Okay. I can deal with that, not that I have another choice.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, one by one.

Despite the temptation to take him back to my room and ride him like a rodeo bull, I realize it’s not a good idea. I need to keep my head on straight and jumping into bed with Griffin before I’ve made the decision to get back together with him isn’t smart.

So three hours, some food, and another margarita later, I walk him back to the gangplank to say goodbye.

He hugs me tightly, and every part of me wants to keep him on the ship, but I’m also aware that I need space and perspective. And I think he does too.

He backs up enough so he can see me without going cross-eyed. He cups my cheeks in his palms, eyes soft and sad. “I’ll talk to you in two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll miss you until then.”

“Same.”

His fingers start to slide along my jaw as he takes a slow step back. I realize he’s not going to make a move, respecting my boundaries and all that. So I wrap a palm around the back of his neck, tip my head up, and pull his mouth to mine.

He hesitates for a second before his lips part and his tongue finds mine. It’s like riding a kissing bike. It takes all of two seconds before we’re locked in an embrace, trying to devour each other. Griffin groans into my mouth, and I make a complementary sound. He splays a hand over my low back and pulls me in tighter.

Yeah, it was definitely a good idea to avoid taking him on a tour of my room, otherwise we would’ve ended up naked.

Someone clears their throat and someone else coughs, reminding me that we’re trying to climb inside each other’s mouths with an audience. I’m the one who breaks the kiss and backs up. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He’s still holding onto my hip, thumb rubbing back and forth over the thin strip of bare skin. “I wanted to do that for the past four hours.”

“It sort of sends mixed signals, though.” Also, it’s not very professional, seeing as I was making out with him in front of people I work with and guests on the ship. Hopefully none of my bosses witnessed that.

“I’m okay with mixed signals.”

I duck my head and bang it against his chest once, breathing him in on a low chuckle. “I want this with you, but I’m scared.”

“I know. It’s why I’m okay with the mixed signals. I like that you won’t jump back in with two feet; it tells me you’re not taking any of this lightly.”

The warning alarms sound to let us know we’re leaving port soon. “You have to go.”