Griffin had just... said it. Like being Hazel’s father was the only thing that mattered.
“You really think I did the right thing?” His voice dropped, vulnerability bleeding through.
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”
He exhaled, shoulders sagging as the tension finally left his body. Then his mouth curved into that infuriating grin. “Careful, Princess. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you actually like me.”
Heat crawled up my neck and I was suddenly, painfully aware of how thin my tank top was. How the sheet had slipped lower while we’d been talking. How Griffin’s eyes tracked the movement before jerking back to my face.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.”
He sat on the edge of my bed without asking permission, and the mattress dipped beneath his weight.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” I sighed.
“Not yet.” He leaned back on his hands, casual in a way that felt deliberate. “Brain’s still going.”
“Then think quieter.”
His laugh was soft, genuine. “You sound like Hazel when she’s overtired. All cranky and unreasonable.”
“I’m not cranky.”
“You’re definitely cranky.”
I grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He caught it easily, grin widening.
“See? Cranky.”
“You’re utterly ridiculous.”
“Yeah.” His voice gentled. “But you like me anyway.”
The teasing faded, replaced by an intensity that made my throat close up with nerves.
He was right. I did like him. More than I should. More than was safe.
Somewhere between Mario Kart and yoga and watching him choose Hazel over his career, this had stopped being just a job.
And that terrified me.
“You should sleep,” I said, shifting to put distance between us. “The race?—”
“Can wait five more minutes.” His gaze held mine. “Thank you. For saying that. About being a good dad.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I mean it, Vi.” He stood, backing toward the door. “You didn’t have to say that. Could’ve torn me apart for being reckless and agreed with your dad that I’d fucked everything up.”
“My father’s not always right.”
Surprise crossed his face. Or understanding.
“For what it’s worth?” His hand found the door handle. “I’m glad it’s you. Glad you’re the one here with Hazel.”
Not glad for a nanny. Not grateful for childcare expertise.
