My phone buzzed in my hand.
Julian
Where are you?
I deleted the message without responding and pressed a kiss to Hazel’s downy head.
He could bloody well come find me himself if he wanted something. I was done jumping every time he summoned me like a disobedient dog.
The door swung open and every head in the room turned.
Griffin walked in carrying a covered dish and glanced around the room. His gaze found mine and relief flickered across his face.
The rich scent of garlic and herbs reached me before he did. My gaze dropped to the dish that I was fairly sure contained my favorite pasta. The one Marco, the team chef, only made for special occasions or when someone bribed him with good wine.
What the hell? He had practice two in twenty minutes. Surely he should be in briefings with his engineers or in the media pen.
Griffin set the dish on the table beside me. “Thought you might be hungry.”
His eyes looked wrong. They were too bright and intense. Like he’d just done something reckless and was waiting for the consequences to catch up.
He reached for Hazel before I could respond, carefully lifting her from my arms without waking her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice dropping to that gentle tone he only used with her.
“How’s my best girl doing?”
But he was staring at me when he said it.
Heat flooded my face and I broke eye contact, focusing on Hazel instead of the way his gaze made my stomach flip.
This was ridiculous.
He’d brought me food and said something vaguely sweet and suddenly I was blushing like a teenager with a crush?
Get over it. He’s probably just feeling guilty at last.
“What are you doing?”
“You need to eat.” He shifted Hazel to his shoulder, one hand spanning her tiny back.
Something in my chest squeezed tight.
“Aren’t you meant to be prepping for FP2?” I forced the words out past whatever was lodged in my throat. “They’ll be looking for you.”
“Let them look.” He said it like it was nothing.
“Dad’s going to kill you.”
He shrugged. “Let him try.”
Something had happened. Something big enough to put that reckless edge in his voice. But before I could ask for details, he handed Hazel back, his fingers brushing mine.
“Need to run. Enjoy the food.”
Then he walked out, and I was left holding a sleeping baby. I stared at the closed door with my pulse racing and a dozen questions I couldn’t answer.
The room slowly returned to its usual buzz. Engineers went back to their data. Someone laughed near the coffee station. The world kept turning like Griffin hadn’t just walked in here and completely scrambled my brain.
I looked down at the pasta. Steam still curled from under the foil.
