Here With You (2 page)

"But you're here now," she pointed out.

He exhaled deeply. "I need your help."

She nodded.
He'd said as much earlier.
It made sense that he'd
come
back because he needed something from her, but it didn't hurt any less. "I'm not sure
what I can help you with. Don't you have a team of people who help you with things?"

"Yes, but only you have what I need."

How many times had she laid in bed at night and wished for a man to say that to her,
just like that, with a voice full of dark desire?

But it was Grif. How much could he really want her, if he couldn't bring himself to
even call her once in all this time?
"How would you know? You haven't seen me in years."

"My family gives me updates." He smiled apologetically. "My parents still live next
door to yours. You know how your mom and dad love to rave about you."

They did. Usually she thought it was so cute, but in this case she wished they'd kept
their mouths shut.

"It's cute," Grif said, as if reading her mind. "But they've always adored you."

She curled into herself, confused—not sure what to think or feel.
"Not that this catching up isn't nice, but I'm still wondering why you're here."

"
I want to live with you.
"

Her mouth fell open. "
Excuse me?
"

"J
ust for a couple weeks.
"

"
A couple weeks?
" She goggled at him, waiting for him to say he was just kidding. But he stood there
calmly watching her. She shook her head. "
Is someone feeding you crack?
"

"
I know I have no right to ask this, but I need a quiet place to work on my next album.
I have some songs done, but I don't have a solid piece to anchor the whole thing
together."

"
Don't you rock stars have a place you go to work in peace? Some island in the Caribbean
or something?
"

"
Yes, but I need you.
"

Every night, m
illions of women dreamt of Griffin Chase standing before them, looking them in the
eye, and saying he needed them
.
Probably tens of millions.

But not her. She folded her arms across her body. "Kind of like you've needed me all
these years?"

"I deserve that." He nodded.

"Oh, you deserve
way
more than that." She glared at him. "You
left
me. We had all sorts of plans to travel together, and you
left
. I understand you were pursuing your dreams, but you could have sent an email every
now and then. Or, heck, even a text."

"I know—"

"You don't know
.
"
She knocked
his shoulder with her hand. "You were my
best
friend
.
We were together every day for years, and then you disappeared. How is that cool?"

"It's not
.
"
H
e
took her hand and secured it against his heart
.

She refused to be distracted—or excited by his touch. He was just holding her hand,
she told herself. He didn't have his hand down her pants.

Which was
not
something she was going to think about.

He moved closer, so she felt the force of his gray eyes. "I was a selfish jerk, Nicole."

She motioned with her free hand,
"More."

"A complete dog."

"Try harder."

His brow furrowed in thought. "Brown, foamy pond scum
?
"

She shrugged. "That's closer, I guess."

"The worse part is that I knew what a mistake
I
was making.
"
He
rubbed her palm with his thumb
.
"
I missed you, Nicole. I just got caught up in work
."

"You aren't helping your case." Bothered by his touch in a way that confused her,
she retracted her hand but immediately regretted it.

"I
lost sense of everything that was grounding in my life
,
"
he said quietly, ignoring her sarcasm.

"And now you want to be grounded again."

"No, I want to remember why I loved music so much." He looked away. "I've been thinking
about quitting."

"
What
? M
u
sic has always been your life.
Always
."

"It's not making me happy anymore."

Of all the things she'd expect to come out of his mouth, those words weren't even
on the list.

But it was something she understood. How many jobs had she started because she thought
they'd been perfect only to find out they weren't what she wanted either? Too many
to count.
"Then change what you do
,
"
she suggested.

He shook his head. "I'm not like you."

The way he said it didn't sound like a compliment. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you've always jumped from one thing to the next."

"You say that like it's bad. I like to try new things.
" Her parents always told her she was smart and talented—she'd find her calling. She
impatiently wondered when, but she didn't need someone like Grif pointing out her
deficiencies. "W
hy do you have to write another album?
I assume y
ou have enough money to live on an island, drinking from coconuts, for the rest of
your life.
"

"I
can't just quit.
P
eople count on me.
I
employ people, and if
I
don't produce they're out of a job and paycheck.
"

"Y
ou can't be responsible for the world.
"

"I
'm not responsible for the world. I'm just responsible for my corner of it. I'm responsible
for my manager, who spends a fortune each month to ensure that his special needs daughter
has every tool available to learn and grow. I'm responsible for the musicians who
play with me, who work hard to scrape together a living for families while still being
true to their calling. I'm responsible to every person who writes me, to thank me
for helping them get through a difficult time in their lives with my music. This is
beyond me, Nicole.
"

She gaped at him, s
hocked at the passion in his voice
. In his eyes there was a maturity she'd never seen, and his words weighed heavily
with
sincerity
.

When had she ever felt that sort of passion or drive? Never. Part of her felt bad
for all the weight on his shoulders; part of her envied him. "Okay, I understand that
you need help to revive your creative juices, but I don't understand why you have
to live with me."

"Accessibility."

She didn't think she wanted to be
that
accessible to him.

"And I need to be away from questions and prying eyes. I need privacy to regain balance.
I'm tired, Nic." Grif lifted the hat and ran a hand over his hair. "I need a quiet
place away from all the noise my life generates. I need to remember why I loved music
in the first place."

His frustration was written all over his face. He looked so lost, her heart broke
for him. But how was she going to help him find the path back to his calling when
she couldn't do that for herself? She'd been trying to find her own way
—
unsuccessfully
—
for so long.

Only he watched her with complete faith and trust that was both humbling and seductive.
She liked the idea of being needed, especially by Griffin Chase.

It was a big responsibility. He wanted to
live
with her. She looked at how he'd filled out and grown up and knew having him crash
at her apartment would be an experiment in masochism.

That
was never happening.

Except she couldn't turn him away. It didn't matter that he'd been a jerk over the
past few years. At one time she'd loved him more than anyone, and she couldn't turn
her back on that.

She exhaled. "Okay,
I'll help you
."

He looked as shocked as she felt.

She cleared her throat. "
So
let's just get this straight.
I help you rediscover your love for music—
"

"A
nd find inspiration for
a title song for my album
,
"
he added.

"Okay
.
" Piece of cake, right? "
And then you'll go away again.
"

"
Yes.
"

S
h
e didn't like that he agreed so quickly. It was inevitable, but he didn't have to
sound so eager about it. "I have to check with my roommate, but it should be okay
for you to crash on our couch for a few days.
Come over tomorrow.
But it's only temporary, and if
Susa
n objects you're gone."

"You're an angel, Nic." He stepped forward and lowered his head to hers.

His mouth was on hers.

Grif was
kissing
her.

Her eyes wide open, she stared at him as his lips brushed gently over hers. Then she
realized he watched her too, and she closed her eyes really quickly.

Which made the kiss worse, because it made her feel every slow, coaxing nibble.

It was delicious.
It was everything a kiss should have been—warm, a little lip, a little tongue
. M
oist
. M
aking her want more.

It freaked her out. She'd never felt anything like it, and she'd never expected to
from Grif. He wasn't touching her and she could feel it all through her body.

When he finally ended the kiss, she wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or sad. Heart
pounding, she tried to get herself under control. She bit her lip, trying to get rid
of the imprint he'd left. She wanted to set her boundaries and tell him it wouldn't
happen again
, but she couldn't bring herself to say it.

Puzzled but not wanting to ponder it, she asked, "
What was that?
"

"
We had to seal the deal
," he said.

"
A handshake is good for most people.
"

He put his sunglasses back on. "
We aren't most people, Nic. See you tomorrow.
"

She watched him
swagger
away, his stride easy and loose
, looking like a hero who'd ridden into town on a white steed
.

But he wasn't a hero—certainly not hers.

She touched her lips, still feeling the sting of his kiss.
What had she just got herself into?

Chapter Two

"I can't believe you're leaving me. You just got here."

"Liar." Grif smiled at his friend KT as he stuffed a pair of jeans into his duffle
bag. "You hate having people around. When I showed up on your doorstep, you barely
resisted the urge to slam the door in my face."

"Well, I can't deny that. Especially when it's a man with a bag and his guitar.
"
She lounged across her guest room's bed.
KT lived like a hermit in the mother-in-law unit of her parents' palatial home. They'd
met at a party years ago, after his first hit single
Lost
. KT had been hiding behind a huge potted plant, looking miserable, and
they'd ended up in the music room with her critiquing
Lost
.

"
Remember how you told me you never dated musicians?
" He yanked a shirt out from under her. "
I'd like to point out that I ended up in your bed.
"

"
My
guest
bed.
"
She kicked him half-heartedly.
"
I still don't
fraternize
with musicians. They're all crazy.
"

"
Yourself included?
"

She held two fingers up. "
I cannot tell a lie.
"

Grif smiled. KT was unique, with her own set of quirks, but she was the most
talented songwriter he'd ever met.
She only wrote for other people
and never sang in front of anyone, but that first night they'd met she'd had one too
many shots of whiskey and
ha
d broken her rule. Angels coveted her voice.
He'd asked her once why she wouldn't sing more, but she'd told him to buzz off in
less polite terms.

He looked around the room to make sure he remembered everything. His guitar, Tallulah,
waited for him by the door. He hadn't opened her case since the last night of the
tour he'd just ended. That was three months. He missed her, but at the same time he
had no desire to touch her.

"There's this." KT held up his necklace.

"Thanks." He took the leather chain and slipped it over his head.

"How metrosexual of you." His friend smirked at him.

He didn't bother to reply. He wore it because it gave him a place to hang the arrowhead
Nicole had given him before he'd set out to make a name for himself. As he'd packed
up his car, she'd hugged him, slipped it into his hand, and whispered, "For protection,
and to think of me."

KT stretched her long body, hugging a pillow to her. "So tell me about this woman
you love."

"It's not like that," he said as he zipped up his bag and set it
next to his guitar case
. "We've been best friends since junior high."

"It's like that
, especially
if you're hiding out from your entourage to hang out with her on the sly."

"
I told you why I
'm
hanging out with her.
"

"
To reawaken your muse.
"
She made crazy eyes at him.
"Stay with me and I'll bitch-slap your muse awake."