That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(93)

Why is he being so stubborn? Why is he insisting on pushing me away when I can see in his eyes how much he wants me?

“Hiding behind your past is never going to get you anywhere in life, and you’re going to miss out on a lot.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Having you carry me up the side of a ditch was one of the most humiliating and exhilarating things that ever happened to me. I realized I could still survive after having another car accident. And do you know what else I realized? That I could fall in love with my best friend so effortlessly.” I step up to him and once again grip his chin. “I love you, Griffin Knightly, and it kills me that I’ll never truly know what it’s like to be loved by you.” I shake my head. “I wish you would just be brave and be with me, instead of sabotaging yourself, believing a myth. There’s your curse . . . self-sabotage. It’s not about what the palm reader said; it’s about you and what’s inside your head. And I can talk until I’m blue in the face, but until you realize it yourself, it’s hopeless.”

I turn away, my heart shattering into a million pieces as I take step after step away from him.

I look over my shoulder one last time, and I catch the devastated look in his eyes, the dark circles, the way his face seems to be sunken. I want to run up to him, kiss him senseless, and tell him we can work this out.

But this is beyond my control.

There is no hope for us, not when he’s so caught up in what happened two years ago.

With a broken heart, I make my way out of the kitchen to the front of the shop, where I spot Jen. I try to wipe away my tears, but they keep falling. She hurries over to me, but I shake my head, warning her off.

I don’t want to talk about it . . . with anyone.

I need this moment of peace, at least until the town starts talking about the naive girl who thought she could fall in love with a Knightly brother.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR





GRIFFIN


“What the hell was that?” Jen asks, shutting down the shop early without discussing closing time with me. Hands on her hips, she’s ready to do some damage, and I know it’s all directed toward me.

“Jen, please, just drop it. Okay?”

“Do you really think that’s going to work on me?” She points to a barstool. “Sit. Now.”

She pulls out the big guns, using her mom voice, and I know there’s no use fighting it. She’ll win in the end. She always does.

I take a seat at the countertop bar and dig my hands through my hair, elbows in front of me, propping me up.

“I can’t risk something happening to her,” I start. “I’d be worrying constantly, wondering what’s going to happen next. She’s late; is it because she got in another accident? She’s sick; is she going to pull through? There are so many variables that go into keeping her safe, and I can’t control them. The only thing I can control is staying far away from her.”

“All because she was hurt a few days ago? Are you blaming yourself for that?”

I give her a pointed look. “Isn’t it obvious, Jen? We started to get serious, and all of a sudden she’s hurt.” I shake my head. “I . . . fuck, I love her, and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her.”

Leaning forward, Jen gently presses her hand to my forearm. “You love her?”

I nod. “And she fucking loves me, but hell if I said it back to her.”

“Oh, Griffin, why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because . . .” My throat grows tight. “There was nothing wrong with Claire, and I lost her. I can’t lose Ren.”

“You say that, but . . . didn’t you just lose her anyway?”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s exactly the same. You live in a small town. Are you really going to be okay with her walking around Main Street holding some other man’s hand? Seeing her kiss him at Jake’s Cakes? Walking on the beach?”

My jaw flexes, the thought of seeing Ren with someone else destroying me. I stand abruptly, my voice strained as I say, “I need to get the fuck out of here.”

“Griffin . . .”

Jen’s voice trails off as I exit the store and head straight for my house, passing by every landmark that holds memories of Ren—from Jake’s Cakes to the street we danced in. Fuck. I need to be alone. I need to be anywhere but here . . . in Port Snow.



“Open up, you motherfucker.” Reid pounds on my front door, but I ignore him.

Beer in hand, I stare off into nothing. I knew this was coming. My phone was buzzing like crazy from all of my family’s texts, so I turned it off.

“My hand is getting sore from knocking. Just open up so I can talk to you.”

“Fuck off,” I shout before taking another sip of my beer.

“Come on, Griff. You can’t just give up on Ren. She’s perfect for you.”

“I’m going to save you some time. Anything you say is going to be ignored. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Fine. Your loss. But for the record, you’re being a moron.”

“Noted.”

I down the rest of my beer.



Knock. Knock.

Ring. Ring.

Knock. Ring. Knock.