Dream With Me (With Me Book 4) (18 page)

“First, I want there to
be an
us
,” I say. “You say I’m your girl and I say you’re my guy and we’re obviously dating. And we’re a couple. But I want to officially be your girlfriend. For you to be my boyfriend.”

“I want that, too,” Griff says, his voice low.

“And I don’t want us to end after we graduate. I know it’s going to be hard. We’re not going to live in the same city, let alone the same state, and we’re young, and we’ve only been seeing each other less than a week and none of this should make sense—”

“Except it does. Make sense. Perfect sense.”

“So I know that where we are right now won’t be where we might be six months from now, a year later, five years, or even ten. I’m not sure if there’s a forever for us, but I’d . . .” I swallow hard, my heart beating even harder. “I’d like to see if there
could
be a forever. The possibility, because, Griff, I wasn’t honest before. I don’t just feel things for you. I like you. I’m falling for you. And I want to see where we could go. Together.”

Griff doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

I keep talking, laying everything bare. “So, maybe, we could make this work. It would require effort on both of our ends. But I’m willing to do it if you are. You could come visit me. I could come visit you. We have texts, email, calling, and all sorts of other social media that we could use to keep in contact when we’re not in the same physical space. I want to be with you, Griff.”

“What happens after?” Griff asks. “I mean, where do you see yourself living after the internship?”

“I have to think about that,” I say. “I always saw myself living in the city. While I loved living in Burlington, I’m not sure I would want to live here. But maybe I wouldn’t even end up in New York or Vermont. Maybe my career will take me somewhere I can’t even imagine right now. Do you just see yourself always living here?”

“I never saw anything but that,” Griff says. “My family’s here. Jack’s here. I couldn’t leave Jack alone.”

“I get that. I really do. But what if you did leave? Would you? Could you?”

“What about you? Would you stay?”

“No, Griff, I need to leave.”

“Why? Vermont is—”

“I love Vermont. Don’t get me wrong about that. But I know it’s time to move on to something else. Somewhere else.”

“So you’re going back home to the city.”

“To start,” I say. “For the internship at the very least.”

“You’re still going home,” Griff says as he turns down another street, the one that leads to Jack’s place. “You’re asking me if I could ever leave but—”

“I’m not even leaving the city where I grew up,” I say. “You’re right. That’s unfair of me. But I’m not even sure New York will be a permanent thing for me in the long run. I don’t know where I’ll end up. For all I know, I could be back here. But I want to explore and set down roots in a place I
feel
is home.”

“You don’t feel that here? In New York?”

I shake my head, realizing I’m saying no to both questions. But it’s true, I realize. “While I love New York and it has been my home for the first eighteen years of my life, I don’t know if it’s my forever home. And the fact that I don’t know makes me believe that my forever home is somewhere else. But . . .”

“But?”

“But I want to find out if that forever home is with you, Griff.” We stop in front of Jack’s house and I look into Griff’s eyes. “I want to see if we can reach our dreams together.”

Griff cuts the engine. “But you don’t know if we’ll last.”

“I don’t. Do you?”

“But you have a feeling that New York and Vermont aren’t where you’ll end up.”

“I do, just like I had a feeling I should go to Green College. Like the one I have about creating makeup. I knew I belonged in both. And that first night that we got together—when our hands touched—it felt . . .” I search for the right words and find none to fully explain it. “You know how it was. You felt it, too.”

“I did,” Griff says thickly. “I still do. But I have plans.”

“I do, too,” I say. “But now, I want my plans to include you.”

“It hasn’t even been a week, Evie,” Griff says gently.

“I know that. Trust me, I know that. I’m just asking . . .”

“What are you asking for?”

“I’m asking for
maybe
. For the possibility that
maybe
if we try that we can actually make this work.”

Griff leans toward me, his gaze intent. “I can do that, Evie. I can give you maybe and a possibility. You asked me what I want, and the answer is simple: I want you. But like you said, this won’t be easy.”

“When has it ever been easy for us?” I ask with a tender smile. “But I think it’s enough that we want this.”

“Yeah,” Griff says, then brushes a curl of hair behind my ears. “It’s more than enough.”

Jack texts Griff to let
him know that he’s running late but taking care of dinner. Griff decides to make a salad and I help out with cutting up some carrots and other veggies.

“What about dessert?” I ask and watch Griff neatly dice a red onion.

“Dessert.” Griff pauses. “Um. Well. Jack and I aren’t really dessert people.”

I clutch my heart. “What?! Not a dessert person! You said you like that shake thing you make, which honestly, a shake is so not a dessert.”

“I’ve never really had a sweet tooth.”

I make a sound of disappointment and turn to reach for the olive oil on the other side of the kitchen.

“But I’ve recently developed one.” Griff comes up behind me. His head lowers to my neck where he kisses me. “Because you taste very, very sweet.”

“I d-do?”

“I guess I do have a favorite dessert. You.”

Like vanilla ice cream under hot fudge, I just melllllllllllt. I’m all warm and gooey, and I easily turn in Griff’s arms to loop my own around his neck. The position brings us closer together, and I know he can feel my hard nipples through the thin white eyelet sweater and creamy white tank underneath. His hands skim the dark denim of my jeans to cup my butt.

“You,” he says, bending his head once more, and skims his lips along the delicate column of my throat, “are wearing way too many clothes.”

It’s true. This is the most clothing I’ve worn this week. But Vermont weather in early May is unpredictable. One minute it’s warm, the next chilly.

“It was a little cold when we left,” I remind him. “And it’s supposed to get colder.”

He darts his tongue out, tasting my skin, and I shiver in his hold. “Guess I should warm you up, then.”

“I think you should,” I say.

He lifts his head, bringing his mouth close to mine, and I pulse with awareness.
Yes,
my heart seems to beat,
yes, kiss me
.

But I can’t wait anymore. I lean up on my toes and close the distance. Our lips meet. Our tongues touch. And everything else is lost to the world—everything but this kiss.

Soon—too soon—the kiss ends. We both need to catch our breath, and I’m already yearning for more.

“I’ve been thinking,” Griff says.

“Oh?”

“About what you said before in the truck.”

About us being together to make it work. About if he’d ever leave Vermont. About him telling me that he wanted to try.

“Every other weekend,” he says.

“Every other weekend?” I repeat back dumbly.

“Every other weekend, I could drive down to the city and spend it with you.”

I catapult myself into his arms and pepper his face with kisses. I feel as if I’ve won the lottery. Because he’d said he would try earlier, but here, right now, is him
saying
what he’s going to do. It’s only fair I give him this in return.

I stop kissing him long enough to cup his beloved face in my hands. “And I’ll do the same, too. It’ll be a switch off. One weekend, you’ll visit me, and the next weekend, I’ll drive up to Vermont to spend it with you.”

His face breaks out in the biggest smile. “You will?”

“I will,” I promise.

Griff spins me in a slow circle in his arms. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll make this work.”

And just like that, my falling for Griff is over. Because . . .

I’m in love with Griffin Sinclair.

I. Love. Him.

The table is set, the
salad made, and dessert, a vegan chocolate cake with frosting—which I insisted upon—is cooling on the counter, when the door that leads to the garage opens. And I hear Jack Sinclair walk into the main living area.

Griff and I are still in the kitchen.

“You ready?” Griff asks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I wipe my hands on my jeans, feeling my heart kick up a notch. This is Griff’s older brother, the guy who raised Griff after their parents died. I know Jack means everything to Griff, and I don’t want Jack to find me lacking.

Griff holds my hand and gives it an encouraging squeeze. “He’ll love you.”

My mouth goes dry, because for a moment I thought I heard Griff say
I
love you.

And I totally want to hear those words from him.

Not even seven days and I’m completely in love with this guy. Why else would I want him in my life post-grad? Why else does this feel so right? Why else would things have clicked so fast for me and gone at lightning speed?

It’s almost as if Fate had enough of Griff and me “hating” each other and decided that enough was enough. By us both arriving late at the dock that night and our accidental touch, it led to this.

I believe everything has led to
this
. To Griff being in my life. To Griff possibly being my forever guy. To him probably—oh, let’s face it,
definitely
—being “the one.”

The problem is that I know that Griff is a steady kind of guy. He’s not a feeler like me. He thinks things through. He’s not going to be like me and fall in love in less than seven days.

It might take him months to fall in love.
If
he even falls in love with me.

And there’s a huge gamble that he won’t. That we’ll try to make it as a couple and it won’t work out because one of us—cough me cough—will totally be head over heels and the other—Griff—will like me, but I know
like
won’t be enough for me.

But for now? I’m willing to risk it for the
possibility
that he could fall in love with me. That, maybe, he’ll love me just as completely as I love him.

All of this goes through my head as we walk out to the main living area. I’m so distracted that I don’t even notice Jack until he thrusts his hand out to me and says, “Evie,” in a deep, gravelly voice.

I gather myself together and shake his hand, giving Jack a bright smile. “Jack! It’s so good to meet you.”

“You, as well,” Jack says.

I’ve got perfect vision. And like any other woman, I can always admire hotness when I see it. Of course Jack Sinclair is hot. Black hair, gray eyes, firm jaw, all quiet, steely determination, with a hint of a growly snarl in his voice.

I can see why all the girls were swooning over him. But while Jack Sinclair is hot, he’s not
my
kind of hot.

Because there’s only one Sinclair I find is my kind of hot. And it just so happens that I’m in love with Griff, too. Just thinking that I love Griff makes me feel so incredibly happy and I shoot Griff a soft, tender smile full of all my loving feelings. Thankfully Griff isn’t looking at me but someone else is.

Jack.

My smile disappears and I try to keep a neutral expression on my face. Jack is watching me with his all too knowing gray eyes and runs his hand along his stubbled jaw. He’s observant. Too observant and sees things that—well, okay, it’s obvious what I’m feeling because I’m just a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve—but still. I can sort of see why Jamie thinks Jack is a spy. Jack is a man who knows what he wants and gets it.

With nothing better to do, I look down. It’s then that I notice Jack holding a couple of takeout bags in his free hand.

“You need help with that?” I ask, thankful to have found something to say.

“I’ve got it,” Jack says and gestures for me to walk ahead of him and Griff to the kitchen. He stops when he sees the dessert on the counter. “I thought I smelled something chocolate. Who made the cake?”

“I did,” I say. “Griff claims you two aren’t dessert people, but I refuse to believe it.”

“All true, I’m afraid. Griff’s always liked peanut butter and any kind of nut.” Jack sets the bags down on the counter and starts unpacking. “You know, I’m really glad McAlister wasn’t around to hear that last part.”

“Jamie would have had a field day,” Griff agrees.

“I’m just imagining all his nut puns,” Jack says darkly, then turns to me. “So, how long was it before he put out the spy theory to you?”

I laugh. “Oh, about three seconds.”

“I’m surprised he waited that long.” Jack places the carryout boxes on the empty counter.

“What did you get?” Griff asks.

“I stopped at that new vegan restaurant we like in Colchester. You’re good with not eating meat tonight, Evie?”

“I’m good with eating anything,” I say. “Whatever you got, well, it smells delicious.”

“Good,” Jack says. “Let’s fix our plates and then we’ll sit down. I can’t wait to hear how you two got together.”

And by the way he says it, I know that Jack has heard about the disastrous first impression.

There’s no point in dancing around the issue, and I get the sense that Jack is the kind of guy who likes people who don’t bullshit.

“I’ll break it down for you,” I say and pass a plate over to Jack. Which he gives back to me.

“Ladies first,” Jack says. “Always.”

Awwww. That’s so sweet and gentlemanly. “So, basically, I heard Griff say something stupid when we were freshman.”

Jack grabs two plates and nudges one to Griff. “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“I think you’re exact words to me were:
You’re an idiot and I didn’t raise you to be one
.”

“Well, you
were
an idiot,” Jack says. “Sometimes still are.”

“You did raise me, so . . .”

I smile at their good-natured teasing and finish grabbing what I want to eat. The food really does smell delicious. A variety of dishes: lemon-flavored sauce over pasta, veggie burgers, and sweet potato fries. Some of the dishes smell a little spicy, but the heat never bothered me anyway.