My phone buzzes with simultaneous texts from Piper and Claire that the delivery is arriving soon.When I mention it to Becca, she says,
“I’ll grab them.I need to get out of this musty corner for a minute anyway.”
I continue sorting while she weaves her way out of the storage unit.Outside, she stretches and smiles up into the sun.It’s starting to get hot in here; luckily, I have a tower fan among my items in storage.Becca’s feet crunch over the gravel of the alley outside the unit as she wanders outside.Then she gasps.
“Did someone really order us a hot guy?”She sounds excited.
“No, I don’t think Piper or Claire are on those types of apps,” I reply.
“Oh my god, he’s the delivery guy,” Becca says in a hushed voice.She straightens, smoothing the front of her shirt.She even clears her throat.
“He can’t bethathot,” I mutter, but she doesn’t hear me.A moment later, I hear her voice pitched higher than normal.
“Why hello there,” she gushes.I don’t hear the response of the delivery guy—I’m busy figuring out if I want this random box of white plates that I forgot my mom had gifted me five years ago—but I sure do catch when Becca adds, “Oh.Casey?Do you know her?”
I perk up, confused by what I’m hearing.I’m partly worried Jake has somehow sussed out that I’m in town and decided to pay me a surprise visit.I never responded to his texts or calls over the summer, after all.
But when I look outside, I see something that makes way less sense than Jake showing up.
My brows nearly touch each other as I struggle to understand the sight of this tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, dark-haired hockey player.
Here.In Chicago.Of all places.
“Griffin?!”I can’t keep the shock out of my voice, even though I’d like to be more blasé about the whole thing.
Becca’s eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth.“Oh my god, you’re Griffin?”
“Hey.Hi.I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself.I’m Griffin Keegan.”He holds out a hand and she shakes it, stunned.
“I didn’t realize you had a side gig doing deliveries in Chicago,” Becca stammers.
“I don’t, unless there’s an emergency,” Griffin says, raking a hand through his hair.His gaze is stuck on me, and I see the evidence of sleeplessness and despair.“Casey, can we talk?”
I blink a few times.“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” he says, then gestures toward the to-go bags he placed on a table near the front.“And I dropped off these things too, but that’s not why I came.”
I am so relieved to see him and so shocked, I can’t gain control of my face.My mouth is damn near the floor.When I don’t say anything, Griffin steps inside the unit.
“Please, Case.”
In a flash, I pull myself together.If Griff Keegan is here, I might as well hear what he has to say.I draw deep breath, waving him in.“Good luck getting back here.”
“I’ll stay out here and…try the coffee,” Becca says.“While you two chat.”
“Yeah.Okay.”I wipe sweaty palms against my shorts, prepping myself for a conversation I didn’t plan on having.I’d thought he was done.Closed the book and moved on.
“What did you want to talk about?”I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.I aimlessly pick through a box as Griffin weaves closer.The question is ridiculous—it’s not like he came here to talk to me about an incomplete move-out or leaving the spare bedroom a mess.
Griffin pauses at the edge of my blob chaise longue.He frowns down at it.“This thing is kind of ugly.”
“Thanks, it’s my favorite piece, so…”
Griffin rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head.“Sorry.That’s…that’s what I came to say to you.”
“That my couch is ugly?”
“No, that I’m sorry.I am so.Fucking.Sorry.I did a lot of things wrong.Specifically during the past few weeks.But the thing I fucked up the most was that I didn’t tell you the truth.”