Made Marian, Volume Two by Lucy Lennox
Sam
How could I have been so stupid? Didn’t I know better than to rush to judgement? Maybe there was some explanation as to why Griff picked these guys up if he didn’t plan on sleeping with them. I couldn’t think of one that made sense, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
It was too late. I couldn’t chase him while I was supposed to be at work helping close the club. Had I known exactly where he lived or even had his damned phone number, I would have tried to contact him to apologize and ask for a second chance.
I hadn’t minded he’d been picking up guys at the club. Well, that was a lie, I definitely minded. But I was willing to get over it in order to be with him. It was the implication it had been a while I couldn’t seem to get past.
By the time I got home that night, it was almost three in the morning, and I was exhausted. Jason was asleep on the sofa so I shook his shoulder and told him to go to bed. I showered and got into bed myself, but I couldn’t shut my brain down.
After another hour, I finally gave up and found myself in the kitchen making large homemade macaroni-and-cheese casseroles before going for a swim. After swimming my ass off for forty minutes, I showered and headed to the youth shelter in hopes of finding a way to track down Griff.
When I got there I found Londa trying to move some stacks of chairs around. I offered to help her and we spent the next fifteen minutes moving all the chairs from the lobby back to the cafeteria.
“Thanks, Sam. What can I help you with?” she asked.
“I brought some mac and cheese for the kids, but I was also looking for Griff,” I said. “Is he coming by today, or do you know how I can reach him?”
“You know, that’s a good question.” She smiled, taking the two big trays of macaroni from the bag I had set on the reception counter. “This smells amazing. The kids will love it. Thank you. As for Griff, let’s ask Rebecca. She’s doing some laundry in the back.”
I wandered back to the big laundry room and found Mrs. Marian folding towels. “Need some help?” I asked.
“Oh, hi, Sam. Sure, that would be great. How are you doing, honey?” she said. Her smile was so sweet and genuine it plunged a dagger into my heart. Obviously she didn’t know how rude I’d been to her son the night before.
“I’m okay. I was hoping to run into Griff though. Have you seen him?”
“Not since the other day, no. I think he’s busy working on that article he’s writing. No telling what library or coffee shop he’s holed up in right now,” she said.
“He’s a writer?” I asked, feeling silly for not having known what he did for a living.
She looked at me with furrowed brows. “Well, yes. You didn’t know? He’s a freelance journalist. I thought that’s how you two met since he’s writing that article about using pickup lines in clubs.”
Oh hell.
Well, that explained a few things. I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh after letting out an enormous sigh of relief. No wonder he was so pissed at me.
“Oh my god,” I said. “That makes complete sense. Thank you for telling me that. You have no idea how much I needed to hear it.”
“Do you want me to tell him you’re looking for him?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I’ll probably run into him eventually. I don’t want to bother him.”
“I’m sure it’s no bother, but it’s your choice.” She went back to folding towels next to me for a few minutes before speaking again. “Listen, Sam. I was wondering if you’d come to dinner at our house on Sunday. We’re so grateful that you’ve decided to help us out at the shelter and we’d love to have you over as a thank-you. Would you consider joining us, please? I hate thinking of you single boys never having someone cook for you.”
She was so nice, and it had been a long time since I’d been mothered. It was impossible to say no. “Well, I’m supposed to work, but I can try to find someone to cover my shift.”
“That would be great. Let me write down the address for you, and you can come around 4 p.m. if that works.” She wandered off somewhere for a pen and piece of paper, returning to write down her address and phone number before handing it to me.
“What can I bring?” I asked, slipping the paper into my pocket.
“You don’t need to bring anything, honey. You’re our guest.”
“Rebecca, I’m a chef. That’s like asking a doctor not to do CPR when someone has a heart attack,” I joked.
“Are you saying my cooking requires professional resuscitation?” she teased.
“No, ma’am. Forget I said anything,” I replied. “I’ll surprise you. Maybe I’ll bring a meal for you to freeze for another night. Then I’ll be far away before you taste it and realize I’m a fraud.”
She nudged me playfully on the shoulder. “I’m sure anything you want to contribute will be appreciated, but it’s not required. Oh, and the kids will be there.”
“What kids? The shelter kids?” I asked.
“No, our kids. Simone, Maverick, Pete—” she said.
“Is Griff going to be there?” I asked nervously, dreading her answer. I could only imagine how he’d feel walking in his parents’ house and seeing me there.
She hesitated. “I think he’s going rock climbing on Sunday,” she said without looking at me.
“Still, I’m not sure I should—” I began.
“Not taking no for an answer Sam, so just drop it, hon.”
We finished the towels and moved on to folding sheets. Working together saved time and we finished quickly. On my way through the boys’ lounge, I saw Demarcus from the other day.
“Hey, Sam. We were going to shoot some hoops out back. Wanna join us?” he asked.
“Sure. Just promise to go easy on me, because it’s been a while.”
I played basketball with a handful of teenage boys for about a half hour before they were called in to do homework.
That night at work, I tried again not to notice Griff’s glaring absence at the bar. It was excruciating. I wanted a chance to apologize to him for the misunderstanding, but part of me was also worried he had moved his article research to another club. One where I couldn’t watch his back.
The next night I saw him. It was almost midnight on Saturday when he came up to the bar. He looked amazing, dressed in a tight white T-shirt and dark low-slung jeans. The shirt showed the outline of what I could only assume were nipple piercings, and just the thought of them made me hard.
Sometimes when he moved a certain way, I could see a hint of a tattoo I hadn’t noticed before peeking out from under his short sleeve. It reminded me of the one I’d seen on his hip. I wondered if he had others I hadn’t seen.
He sat down at the bar and ignored me.
I walked up to him and smiled. “Hey, good lookin’, whatcha got cookin’?” I asked.
He looked at me sideways like I was crazy, so I tried again.
“You tired? ’Cause you’ve been runnin’ through my mind all day,” I said, trying to jolly him out of his bad mood.
He narrowed his eyes at me in a death glare. “What are you doing?”
I dropped the smile. “I ran into your mom.”
“And she hit you on the head?” he asked.
“No. She described the article you’re writing about pickup lines at the clubs. I’m sorry, Fox. You have no idea how sorry I am that I misjudged you,” I said, watching him.
“Whatever, it’s fine,” he said, looking down at the bar. I leaned across the bar and put a finger under his chin, tilting his face up to look at me.
“No, it’s not fine. It wasn’t fair, and I feel terrible. Can I please make it up to you, Griff? Maybe I can take you out to lunch tomorrow or something?” I asked.
For a microsecond, his eyes looked so vulnerable. Then they shuttered again, and I lost him. “Nah, I can’t. I have plans already.”
Oh right, the rock climbing. I had to let it go for now. Something told me pushing him would be a big mistake. But before I let it go, I wanted one thing.
“Then may I please get your number?” I asked.
He glared at me. Clearly I wasn’t forgiven that easily. “Maybe another time,” he said before a man sat down on the stool next to him, attracting his attention.
It was the same older man who’d propositioned me at last call a few nights before, and Griff began his usual routine. The man caught me staring at him and mistook it for interest. Throughout the rest of his time talking to Griff, he stared lasciviously at me. It was creepy.
Eventually, I decided to take a break to get away from watching Griff put the moves on the man. Even though I now knew he probably wasn’t planning on actually hooking up with him, it was still hard to watch. I took one look back at the pair, inadvertently locking eyes with Griff. I felt my chest tighten before looking away and continuing to the break room.
I escaped into the lounge and dropped down onto the sofa, leaning my head back and covering my eyes with my arms. After a short doze, I awoke to the sound of the lounge door closing.
