The first thing Griffin does in his absence is pull his phone back out. He smiles as he reads Aria’s reply.
Aria:Fab! Tomorrow?
Griffin:Sure! I have early practice, so I’ll be done by lunchtime.
Aria:Cool. Just text me when you’re heading over. I’ll be working down there off and on all day. Hit the star button at the gate, and we’ll buzz you in.
Griffin types “Awesome” and goes back and forth on whether to add an exclamation mark. Some of his teammates would say no to the exclamation—the enthusiasm it evokes is incompatible with “having swag”—but Griffin hasn’t ever been interested in swag.
He is interested in Aria.
So he adds the exclamation mark, hits Send, then heads for the showers.
He’s ready to wrap up this day so he can get on to the next.
Chapter 26
Aria
Aria and Bailey pick up the main level of the house on Thursday morning, Aria running the vacuum over the rugs after Bailey wipes down the counters. Fortunately, Aria’s biweekly cleaning service came only two days earlier, so the house is in good shape to begin with. Still, she wants to put her best foot forward for Griffin.
Her mother would always shine up their small-town abode for guests, and Aria, who rarely hosts guests, figures she might as well follow her mother’s example.
“I went ahead and ordered stuff for lunch,” Bailey says as Aria returns the vacuum to the laundry room. “I got a variety of salads, sandwiches, and a few pastries from the deli.”
“Perfect. And the drinks are already well stocked.” Aria glances at her phone, noting the time. “He’ll be here in a couple hours or so, and I’m going to get a head start on writing.” Ariawaves, then stops briefly at a console table to fluff the flower arrangement.
“Holler if you need anything,” Bailey says.
Aria takes off down the stairs and opens the studio for the day. She pulls back the curtains that cover the walk-out sliding doors, flips on the lights, and turns on the recording equipment. She lights a scented candle on a side table and ignites the electric fireplace at the end of the room.
Hopefully Griffin likes it. And fortunately, since he’s already part of the fame game, he won’t think she’s showing off by inviting him into this place. When Aria first got the house and brought her “friends” over, one of them took offense, claiming that Aria knew she was going after her own singing career, and that showing off the home studio was only rubbing salt in her very raw wounds. Naturally, that friendship soon expired, leaving Aria bruised and weary.
Of course she would never intentionally hurt someone like that. She’d innocently thought the friend would want to see it—that she’d be happy for her.
Today Aria has no such worries. A few nervous flutters rise in her middle when she thinks about tinkering in the studio with Griffin alongside her, but only because she hopes she doesn’t sound incompetent in front of him. Songs undergo a tremendous amount of work to get from idea to concert-ready, and although Aria expects Griffin will be as easygoing about this as he has been thus far, there’s also simply not the same luster to a first-draft song.
Aria does her best to focus for the morning, but despite her best efforts, she finds herself checking the time frequently andgetting pulled off track by thoughts of Griffin. She manages to draft the first version of the football player song from notes into a song about the quarterback and the theater girl getting a happily ever after. It’s a song squarely in the Aria Wilder safe zone.
When Aria finishes, she’s happy with it. She’s not enchanted. She’s not excited. She doesn’t love it. But she knows it’ll go over well with the others, and for today that’s the assignment.
Before long, she migrates upstairs and picks at lunch. Bailey asks her why she’s not eating, and Aria says she’s just not that hungry. Honestly, it’s because she’s suddenly extremely nervous for Griffin Hayes to be in her house.
She’s become an expert at keeping her walls up, and even though Griffin has shown himself to be worthy of slipping behind them, it feels like a great risk to bring anyone new into her home.
Bailey reaches over the table and squeezes her arm. “It’s okay, sis. He’s not going to break your world with one visit to the studio.”
Aria lets out a breath that’d been crowding her chest. Her shoulders drop. “You’re right. It’s my buddy, Griff.”
Just hearing the words come out of her mouth sends a smile across her lips, and in perfect timing, the landline connected to the gate call box begins to ring.
“Speak of the devil,” Bailey says before loading a forkful of salad into her mouth.
The gate camera broadcasts to a screen built into the kitchen cabinetry, and it shows a new Bronco, window rolled down, and Griffin sitting in the driver’s seat. Aria’s body warms at the sight of him. Even on the grainy, low-quality screen, he looks like a Greek god.
She hits the button to open the gate and pulls the cover over the screen.
Bailey grabs the plastic container holding her salad and takes off. “I’m letting you have your privacy—see how good I’m being here?”
