A Four Letter Word (9 page)

I glance down at myself. "Yeah, I think he'll like it."

"Oh, believe me, he is going to love it." Ashlee bumps her hip into me.

"So, where is he taking you?"
Ashlee questions, taking a seat back on my bed and muting Jeff.

"Um, I really don't know. All he said was we were going to his favorite restaurant," I reply with a shrug. At this point we could go to McDonald's—it d
oesn't matter.

"Well, from the few times I've met him and what Geoffrey and Patrick have told me, Griffin has great taste. You'll be in good hands."

I feel my cheeks get a little warm. The idea of being in Griffin's hands makes my insides tingle. Ashlee giggles.

"What?" I ask feeling slightly embarrassed.

"You. You're all blushly-like. Zoey likes Griffin. Zoey likes Griffin," she teases.

"Ashlee, we're not in high school. Wait, I don't think high school kids act that way—maybe middle school."

"Oh, really. Well, if we were in high school I probably would be saying Zoey likes Evan, Zoey likes Ev-," Ashlee continues to tease, but instantly catches herself.

My body stiffens, and I know my smile instantly disappears.

Evan.

My mood drastically changes. I was feeling all giddy about my date, and now I just feel—what? So many emotions are running through me, and none of them are wanted. I plop myself down my bed, my shoulders instantly slumping,
my heart hurting. Noticing immediately, Ashlee rushes to my side and kneels before me. "Fuck, Zoey, listen, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Stupid, stupid, stupid." The words rush from her mouth, however the last few are but a whisper.

"Ash, it's okay, really," I offer trying to make us both feel better.

Ashlee takes my hand in hers and gives me a gentle squeeze. I fight back whatever it is I'm feeling with everything I have. I feel as though I am failing miserably.

"
Zo, look at me," she quietly demands.

I slowly lift my head, and I stare right into nothing but concerned eyes. Ashlee positions herself in front of my legs, kneeling on the carpet and resting her hands on my knees.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Shit, I'm never thinking. The words just fly out of my mouth on their own. But, I'm guessing from the way you reacted that you haven't heard from him since you left the restaurant?"

I nod.

"Figures. Listen, Zoey, can I tell you what I think?" she asks.

I immediately roll my eyes. Since when does Ashlee need permission to speak her mind? She does that no matter what, whether it's wanted or not.

"I know, I know. But please just hear me out, okay?"

I nod again.

"Here's my theory, and just listen til I'm done. When I finish, you can tell me to fuck off then, okay?" A playfulness underlines her tone.

A small, weak giggle escapes me.

"Okay, here's what I've come up with. Evan has basically been
the
guy in your life. Yes, you've dated from time to time, but they never lasted. Evan has always been there no matter what. I know you say that you two don't have feelings for each other, other than friendship, but I know and you know that it runs deeper than that with you. And no matter what you say, I'm betting it's the same for him." She takes a deep breath and continues before I can respond.

"After what you told me was said the other day, I really think that Evan might be jealous."

My eye roll interrupts her rambling, and she gives me the "don't you dare" look. I take a deep breath and wave her on to continue.

"When I say jealous, I don't mean in the boyfriend kind of way, although…"

"Ashlee," I warn and interrupt her.

"Let me finish. Like I said, Evan has been
the
guy in your life, and I think he feels threatened that he is going to be replaced by Griffin. You said it yourself—you haven't gone gaa-gaa over a guy since your sophomore year in high school when you met you know who. I just think that Evan feels that and is afraid he's going to lose you."

"Ashlee, that's ridiculous. Evan will always be—well,
my
Evan. I could never replace him, nor do I ever want to. He will always…"

Now it's her turn to interrupt me. "He will always hold a special place in your heart?"

I nod. There will always be a part of me that will love Evan. Nothing or no one can ever change that.

"I just don't think he knows that,
Zoey. I'm sure you basically telling him that he's overprotective and to lay off solidified that. I'm sure you hurt him by telling him without really meaning to. He's had that role in your life for so long, I don't think he knows how not to be that person for you. I'm not saying he's right when he told you not to date Griffin. I'm just trying to see things from his perspective." She finally finishes.

Is she right? Is Evan afraid I'm going to replace him with Griffin?

"Just think about it, okay?"

"Okay." Is all I can
offer.

Ashlee gives my hand one more
squeeze and stands up. "You still look amazing."

I stand up as well and wrap my arms around her. "Thanks, Ashlee, for everything."

"Oh, well, it's the least I can do." She pulls away, and her smile warms my heart.

"Now, if you don't mind, I really don't need 'my mother' here when Griffin arrives, okay?"

"Fine, fine, fine. But you better call me first thing tomorrow and give me all the details."

"I promise. You will be the first person I call after I wake up."

"I better be. Now have fun and be safe." Ashlee points her finger at me the way only a mother can.

"Yes, Mom," I tease.

Ashlee heads to the entryway of my room and turns around. "Oh, and Zoey…give Evan a day or two and then…"

"I will call him."

"That's my girl." And with that, she leaves.

I plop back down on my bed again, noticing the time. Griffin will be here in five minutes.
Get it together, Zoey.
I take a deep breath and blow it out, blowing out with it the tidal wave of emotions I was just experiencing. I grab my clutch and stand up, glancing at my reflection in my dresser mirror. The woman staring back at me is beautiful and is sure of three things—she is excited to go out with Griffin, Ashlee is always right and after giving Evan some time, she will fix things with him. I straighten my shoulders, shake off all the yuckiness, and leave my bedroom, ready to start what is probably going to be an amazing evening.

Chapter 9

Griffin shows up right on time. After seeing him in that gladiator costume, I didn't think he could look any better. But I was very wrong. Seeing Griffin in a pair of jeans with a light blue button down shirt and a black suit jacket is something else—something better. In a word—yum. He leaves me completely breathless. Parts of me that have been dormant for so long are coming out of their deep slumber. And I like it—a lot.

Griffin is a perfect gentleman after he picks me up. He comments on how good I look. He has some trouble getting the words out, though. Ashlee was right; Griffin loves my outfit and the way I look in it. He escorts me to his car, his hand a feather-like touch on the small of my back. He even opens the
door for me.

So far, so good.

Now, I sit in the passenger seat, stealing glances at him as he drives. Soft music fills the space around us, putting me completely at ease. I steal another glance as we approach a stoplight, appreciating his profile. The angle of his jaw lightly covered with stubble, his prominent cheek bone, the perfect curvature of his nose, the way his long eyelashes dust the very upper part of his cheeks when he blinks.

Griffin is just…just…just beautiful.

The only other man I have ever thought was beautiful was…was Evan. My heart aches in my chest. Griffin takes that exact moment to look over at me.

"Everything okay?" he asks concern noticeable in his voice.

I take a small breath and push away any thoughts of Evan. "Perfect. Um, where are we going?" I ask, quickly changing the subject.

"We are going to one of my favorite restaurants. I know you're
gonna love it—promise." His entire face lights up and I can't help but smile back at his words.

"I'm sure I will." I reach over and give his forearm a reassuring little squeeze.

His muscles constrict and flex under my touch. I try to picture what his arms look like, but my brain is fuzzy on that particular body part. The night of the Halloween party, I was focused on other aspects of his anatomy, like his chest, the way his hands felt on my waist as we danced, and the encouraging looks his blue eyes gave me during the contest. Now, I can't help but wonder what his arms look like underneath all that clothing. Lickable or not lickable, that is the question. I have always been an arm girl. I can't explain why. There's just something about them that makes me all tingly. My hand lingers a little longer than I intended, but Griffin doesn't seem to mind. I turn my attention to the scenery outside my window, and everything looks familiar—too familiar. Of course I know Chicago—I've lived in the city for years—but the buildings we are passing I know better than all others because…

"We're here," Griffin announces. I think my heart stops beating, and I've probably stopped breathing as well.

I can't believe it.

Outside my window is the one place I thought I could avoid for a while. The one place that makes my heart constrict and tears prick my eyes. The one place where it didn't go as planned. Griffin gets out of the car, and in the amount of time it takes him to walk around and get to my door, I calm myself as best as I can, considering. Griffin opens my door, and his hand is waiting for me. I take it and my skin tingles. I step out and the air cools my heated skin. I take a deep breath and let the coolness of the night air caress my lungs, making me feel somewhat calmer. With my hand holding Griffin's, we make our way inside the restaurant. We stand behind a very affectionate couple waiting for our turn with the hostess. The couple is taken to their table as we wait for the hostess to return.

Griffin leans in and whispers in my ear, "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look this evening?" His warm breath tickles my ear.

My skin heats up. "Thank you."

He pulls away just as the hostess returns.

"Hi, welcome to Café One
O Three," the hostess greets us with an overly sweet voice.

At least she's not "Miss All Too Eager."

"We have reservations…Cooper," Griffin informs her as his arm finds its way and wraps around my waist.

I suddenly feel grounded.

She checks her book. "Right this way," she directs, grabbing two menus.

Griffin's hand never leaves the small of my back as we walk to our table. On our way, we pass by
the
table and my heart sputters, remembering the events of that fateful day. I attempt to gulp down the lump that has managed to climb its way into my throat.
    
Put it away, Zoey. Put it away.

We sit at our table, and I can't keep my eyes off of
the
table. Evan's cold, hard, hazel eyes glare at me. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing them away. When I open my eyes, blue concerned ones eye me.

"Are you sure you're okay,
Zoey? I mean, if you're not sure about this, we can…"

"No. I'm fine. I'm sorry, Griffin. Tonight is fine, perfect even. I want you…I mean, this, tonight," I interrupt him, and of course my tongue and mind don't cooperate with each other.

He shakes his head, smiling. "Okay. And Zoey?"

I look up from the menu.

"I want you too and this, tonight, as well." There's playfulness in his tone.

It's my turn to smile and shake my head. Our server comes and takes our drink order. A silence, that's not quite uncomfortable, blankets our table. Jill, our server, returns, placing a glass of much-needed wine in front of me and a beer in front of Griffin.

"Are you ready to order?" she simply asks.

Griffin looks to me. Of course I'm ready to order. I knew what I was going to order when we pulled up. It's what I order every time I come here for dinner with…

I shake my head.

"I'll give you a minute then," Jill informs us and walks away.

I watch her leave, and when I turn my attention back to Griffin, he's just staring at me and his smile is infectious. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. It makes me feel special. It makes me glad I'm here. It makes me forget.

"What?" I question because he's still staring and smiling.

Did I mention how much I like his smile? I do. I really do. I really, really do. It makes me feel… Wait, he hasn't answered yet.

Focus
,
Zoey
,
focus
.

Griffin is looking at me with an amused look on his face. He's done that quite often tonight and in such a short period of time. Ashlee is right; I am
gaa-gaa when it comes to him. And it makes me come across as—what—insane, looney,  crazy? The list goes on. He can put me at ease and make me nervous at the same time.

Kinda
like…

"
Zoey?" Griffin's voice brings me back to the here and now.

"Yeah?"
I respond sounding soooo intelligent, I'm sure.

"If you're not sure what to order, I can definitely help with that," Griffin easily suggests.

"I would like that, thanks," I answer him.

Inside, a small battle is starting—should I or shouldn't I tell him I've been here before, that I know the menu like the back of my hand, that I could walk around the place blindfolded and still find the restroom without bumping into anything, that Evan and I usually come here once a week to catch up or to celebrate an event like when I first opened my bookstore Open Book? They say honesty is the best policy, but then someone came up with "what they don't know won't hurt them" because they thought that honesty policy was bullshit. See, a brewing battle in my brain.

"Okay, I think you might like…" Griffin begins, but of course, the honesty side of the battle squashes the "let's keep it to ourselves "side in a heartbeat.

"Griffin, there's something I need to tell you," I start.

Griffin puts down his menu. He looks confused and slightly alarmed.

Not the best way to start a conversation,
Zoey. You are probably giving the guy a heart attack.

"
Okaaaay." The word is forced from his mouth.

"Um, this isn't my first time here. Actually I've been here probably hundreds of times. Evan, my best friend, and I come here—a lot. I guess,
well, no, it is our fav…I mean my favorite restaurant. The thing is, I was here the a few days ago, with him, and our lunch didn't go very well. We kinda had a big fight. So coming here I feel a little off. But being here, with you, that's helped—made things better, easier. I just don't want to ruin our first date," I say it all in one exhausting breath feeling as though I just ran a marathon.

Now I know how Ashlee feels—no wonder she looks so tired after she speaks.

Griffin's eyes light up. "Evan, he was the one at the party…"

"Dressed as Tarzan," I finish for him.

"Yeah. He seemed…" Griffin seems a little unsure how to finish. He has the look like he's solving the country's debt crisis in his head.

A look…

"Overprotective?" I ask, hopefully giving him the word he was searching for.

"That's, uh, a fitting word," Griffin returns, slightly squirming in his seat.

Fucking Evan .

I swear…

I feel my anger about the whole situation bubble just below the surface. I quickly grab my glass of wine and take a long-ass sip—effectively calming me. I feel the urge to explain everything to Griffin. And it's more than a need to; I want to. "We've been friends—best friends—a really long time. Evan has always been there for me, the one I've always turned to. I guess over the years and because of all that, Evan's become my protector, and at times, he takes his job too seriously. He's just afraid I'm going to get…"

"Hurt?" Griffin finishes for me this time.

I nod, taking another sip.

"
Zoey, I totally understand. I'm like that with my cousin, Lindsey. We grew up together, only a year apart. So, I've always felt responsible for her, protective of her. And, of course, at times I took my role seriously. I guess I understand where Evan's coming from, to a point. I mean, you're a grown woman. I just hope his 'overprotectiveness' doesn't get in the way of what I hope is the start of something between you and me."

He pauses, taking a deep breath and reaching for my hand. I easily intertwine my fingers with his. The warmth of his touch makes me feel as though everything will be okay with him, with everything. Griffin looks intently into my eyes, almost as though he can see into my soul.

"I really like you, a lot, Zoey, and I think you like me too. I can honestly see this," he gives my hand a squeeze before continuing, "going somewhere. I just hope it's given a chance."

All I can do is
nod my head in return. Griffin's words have left me speechless.

I suddenly feel like Sally Field—"He likes me, he really likes me."

Digging down deep, I find the courage to speak. "I really like you, too. And I'd like to give this a chance." I give his hand the same squeeze he gave me, echoing the sentiment.

Griffin's smile overtakes his features. It's like he's just won the lottery. And I have never felt lighter, happier. Our date continues effortlessly. We eat, we drink, and above all, we talk—about anything and everything. I learn he works as the assistant to the travel secretary of the Chicago White
Sox, that he's an only child, like me, and his parents are still together living in Florida. I tell him about my first love—my bookstore—and moving to Glenview where my parents still live and are happily married. We also exchange the basics—our likes and dislikes. Amazingly, we have so much in common. He just stares at me the entire time, hanging on my every word—my very own captive audience. And the entire time, I'm not nervous at all talking about myself at length like I usually am. Being here with Griffin is easy, fun, and everything I thought it was going to be and more. His words from earlier echo in my head—" I see this going somewhere"—and they make me optimistic for once when it comes to relationships.

If one of the others started this way, things might have been different.
But, if one of them had, I wouldn't be here, with Griffin, enjoying everything about tonight—immensely. We stay at the restaurant and share a dessert before moving to the bar to continue our evening. Neither one of us want to interrupt our wonderful time together by changing venues. We are both so relaxed here. All my anxiety over "the talk" having happened here evaporated long ago. Griffin and I continue to get to know each other, but sadly, time has slipped away—we've actually closed the place. I haven't done that on a date in years. The ride home is quiet, our hands are grasped over the console. In the pit of my stomach, there's that unwanted feeling of having to say goodnight. I don't want tonight to end—ever. Griffin pulls up to my apartment building and easily finds a parking space in front. Like he did earlier, he gets out and comes to open my door, offering his hand.

Such a gentleman.

The butterflies invade my stomach as we make our way to my apartment. The air around us when we stop in front of my door is so sexually charged, it could probably light up most of Chicago. This is it—the goodnight. The kiss? The butterflies fight for more room. We stand facing each other, holding hands. His thumb grazes along my knuckles. I am so nervous.