That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(92)

I press my lips together, a tangle of emotions hitting me all at once. Don’t cry, not right here, not in front of Jen.

“Well . . . could be better.”

The sincerity in Jen’s eyes morphs quickly into anger as she looks back toward the kitchen. “Is he pushing you away?”

“Um, I think I kind of want to talk to him about this.”

“Fair enough, but you let me know if I need to kick some sense into him.”

“Thank you.” I bow my head and make my way to the back of the shop, feeling familiar enough with the place to walk there by myself.

I find Griffin in the kitchen, bent over a counter. One of his hands is in his hair, and tension rolls off him in waves.

“Hey.”

His head pops up, surprise crossing his face when he sees me. Immediately he walks over and takes my hand in his, giving me a once-over, examining me up and down. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I answer honestly, my fear of losing him starting to come to the surface.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, panicked.

“You,” I say softly. “You’re pulling away, Griffin.”

Stunned for a moment, he stills, eyes finding a spot above my head before he lets out a long breath and steps out of my grasp, walking toward the middle of the kitchen, a pained look on his face.

“You need to talk to me, Griffin. What’s going on in your head?”

“I can’t talk about it.” His voice is broken.

On unsteady legs, I walk up to him and place my hand on his back. He shudders against my touch and pulls away, breaking me in half with the tortured look on his face.

“Griffin. Please.” Desperation laces my voice.

Both hands gripping the back of his neck, strain in his muscles, he says, “I can’t do this, Ren.”

“Can’t do what? Us?”

Slowly, my vision tunneling, he nods.

“You can’t do us?” My lips tremble, the pounding in my head growing exponentially as I hold back tears. “Why? Because I got hurt?”

“Yes, don’t you see? It was . . . fuck . . .” He turns away, every muscle in his back flexing with fury. “It was my fault you got hurt. It was a warning sign reminding me that I need to stay away.”

“That accident was not your fault.”

“It was,” he insists, growing angrier with each word. “I was the reason my wife died, and then the other day with you?” He shakes his head. “I got too close when I had no right pursuing you, letting myself feel something for you.”

“Are you listening to yourself right now?” I grip his arm, forcing him to look at me. “You’re talking about believing in an actual curse, about letting some crazy lady in New Orleans dictate your entire life. Are you really just going to give up on ever being with someone ever again?”

“Yes.”

The way he says it, with such finality in his voice, is like a punch to the gut, knocking all the air from me.

“So that’s it, then? You’re not going to feel anything for me?”

“I can’t let myself feel anything for you, Ren. That’s the point.”

“No, you can, you just won’t.”

“You don’t get it,” he practically shouts. “If you stay with me, you’re going to get hurt.”

“Well, guess what, Griffin? You’re hurting me right now, and the pain is way worse than any two-by-four. Do you even care about that?” His eyes soften, but it isn’t enough. I push forward, pressing my hand against his chest as I step up close to him. “What we have between us is real, it’s so real, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone ever. I want to be with you, Griffin. I don’t care about some dumb curse you think is controlling your life. What I care about is being with you.”

He looks away, but I reach up and grip his chin, his stubble biting into my fingers as I stare into his eyes.

“Tell me you don’t want to be with me, Griffin. Tell me that what we have is worth throwing away over some silly spell you experienced with your drunk brothers. Tell me that the friendship, the relationship we’ve built from the ground up, is worth stepping away from—just because you’re too scared.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his blue eyes staring me down, a clench to his jaw.

“It’s not worth it.”

At first I wonder if I misheard him, if I just dreamed what he uttered from those perfect lips. But when he pulls away from me, turning his back, I realize that I did hear him correctly.

He’s giving up.

He’s letting his past dictate his future.

And from the looks of it, no matter what I say, I won’t be able to change his mind.

My lips trembling, my teeth chattering, the first tear falls down my cheek, followed by many more. “So that’s it?” I ask, the anguish in my voice making him turn back to me. Pain crosses his face when he takes in my tears. For a moment, he starts to move forward to comfort me, but he holds back, the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. “That is it, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You know, Griffin, I didn’t move to Port Snow looking for a boyfriend. I didn’t plan on finding someone I care so deeply for. I came here to start a new life, a new chapter, after living through something tragic. I came here because I was brave enough to start anew, and along the way, I met a beautiful group of friends and a man who stole my heart. After what I’ve been through, I had the courage to try something new, to open my soul to you and give you everything I have.” I take a deep breath and attempt to calm the anger raging inside of me.