As the two toss the ball back and forth, Aria focuses on practicing the technique Griffin showed her, but she also thinks abouthim. About having fun with him. So much of Aria’s life is scheduled and optimized, a requirement for fitting in all the components her career requires. But now, in this unplanned moment of Griffin sticking around, making fun out of an unglamorous task, it feels like experiencing something brand-new.
Maybe it makes Aria sound boring to admit that she’s such a perfectionist workaholic that she never really has fun, but it’s also not entirely untrue. To be fair, her difficulty making and keeping friends absolutely plays into that as well.
Still, as Aria watches Griffin’s face as he throws and receives the ball, the grin that never truly leaves his face, the eagerness in his eyes, she can’t help but feel pulled to him. Despite the odds, it seems this professional-football-player-turned-PR-stunt-partner is someone Aria actually really enjoys being with.
As soon as she begins to break a sweat, Aria calls an end to the activity, citing the fact that she already completed her scheduled time in the gym for today. Griffin doesn’t fight it, and after they stop at the garage fridge for a couple of cold drinks, they get back to the boxes.
Aria is surprised at how locked in Griffin gets as they sort through boxes.
“Grab anything comfortable or easily wearable, which should be most stuff out here. The super-glam stuff is usually on loan, or I send it back if I won’t wear it—that way someone else can. So, think cute casual.”
Griffin works alongside Aria, his brow knitting in concentration as he assesses the items he pulls out. He sorts through a box and refastens the lid. “This is all good to go. It’s mostly sweats and workout gear.”
“You’re the best,” Aria says. She’d planned to do this on her own, and although she’s grateful for the practical help, it’s the company that truly makes the difference.
“Just making good on my promise,” Griffin says.
“I’m sure you have a million better things to be doing.”
Griffin stops, looks around, and shakes his head. “Nope. This is right where I want to be.”
“I guess the golden-boy rumors are true.” Aria warms as if his golden effect is the sun radiating upon her.
“Don’t ask my mother. She has plenty of evidence otherwise.”
Aria shoots Griffin a playful look, then gets back to her sorting. She won’t say it out loud, but she doesn’t believe him. Aria suspects that Griffin is being modest, that he really and truly is golden.
If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have offered to help, he wouldn’t have stayed after he handed off the scarf, and he wouldn’t have even made the drive out. No, all the evidence points to Griffin Hayes being just as much a gentleman as promised.
Perhaps even better.
Chapter 13
Griffin
Griffin loses track of how much time he spends lugging around boxes in Aria’s garage, but after a while, they have amassed a healthy stack of boxes marked for the shelter. Both he and Aria step back and pause, admiring their handiwork.
“Where do these need to be loaded?” Griffin asks.
Aria waves him off. “Oh no. The organization will come by with their truck, but thanks for the offer.”
A quiet falls between them as their task ends. Griffin wonders if Aria is feeling the same disappointment that’s settled inside him, but he doesn’t linger on that thought long. What Griffin wants is more time together.
“We never really got around to talking aboutThe Late Night Show, huh?” he says.
“Oh, that’s right!” Aria’s surprise edges close to excitement.
Aria can do these sorts of interviews in her sleep, so it’sprobably up to Griffin to take the lead. The simplest solution would be to chat briefly about it now. But Griffin doesn’t want to discussThe Late Night Shownow because then he wouldn’t have a good excuse to see Aria before the taping next Monday.
“Do you have any time tomorrow?” Griffin wonders if he’s testing his luck as he says the words, asking a world-class pop star if she has even more time for him.
“Sure!”
The reply is bright, not a hint of bothered, and possibly even enthusiastic. Griffin latches on at once. “Perfect. I’ll be done with practice by three. What’s your schedule?”
Aria pulls out her phone. “I don’t have meetings tomorrow, and it’s my day off from writing. Well, the one I give myself.”
“Do you need any more help with the garage?”
