Our Cruel Hearts

Chapter Twelve

I blink, and it's like the words have fallen from my mouth. I try to close the door but Griffin stops it with his hand.

"Please, Ayla." He whispers against the door. His voice is low and raspy, and clouds my mind with pure temptation. Letting him in would be a terrible idea, but what it could lead to would be catastrophic.

I sigh but swing the door open anyways, how could I turn him away when he says my name like that?

"What do you want?" I say as I swing the door open again, Griffin looks absolutely distraught. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks flushed like a wine stained shirt. He has a dark bruise forming on his jaw and a little dried blood on his cheek.

"Griffin," I say, breathless. He has knocked the air from my chest, "What happened?" I furrow my eyebrows as I take him in as he stands there.

"I'm sorry Ayla, I didn't know where else to go," His gaze is soft but he looks so drained. Those words break me. I reach for his hand and pull him through my apartment with no hesitation, straight to my bedroom. Closing the apartment door behind me. I leave him at my bedroom door while I check my bathroom for any underwear or embarrassing stuff I may have left out. It's an absolute mess but I don't see anything bad. I call him in and he stumbles into the bathroom, I grab onto his arms to steady him.

He stops in the doorway, "What the fuck happened in here?" He asks and I roll my eyes.

"You're bloodied and bruised, and I'm pretty sure you're drunk too yet you still have the audacity to insult my bathroom. Why am I not surprised?" I scan my bathroom, it's not that bad. I quickly sweep all my makeup into the sink to make space for him, then I tap on the counter to signal him to sit. Griffin just presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head.

"Oh what is the problem now-" I barely get out, my hands on my hips before he crosses to me, lifts me by my waist and puts me on the counter. The cold of it immediately stinging my thighs but his warm hands burning through my dress and into my skin. My jaw nearly drops as I stare at him in awe and exasperated, how he did that drunk? I have no idea. But the sheer audacity.

"Was that necessary, Griffin?" I ask, trying to hide the hitch in my voice. He just shrugs and stares at me, his gaze dropping to my lips that are stained blood red. In an attempt to prevent whatever he's thinking I turn away, reaching for my skincare cloth. I wet it under the tap, trying not to get any water on my makeup and I notice Griffin's head moving with every movement I make. I clear my throat and turn back to him, he's standing between my legs now. His hands on both sides of me as he leans into me. Griffin's dark curls hang in his eyes as he watches my every move. I begin wiping off the blood on his face and he just stares at me. His gaze on me makes me want to melt as if I'm standing before the sun itself. As I clean his face I can't help but admire the freckles that cover the skin at his nose, I trace my fingers over them and then his lips catch my eye. They're full and pink, like he's been kissing someone. My mind flashes the image of him making out with the woman at the bar the other night and I start wondering if he tastes as quicksilver and tantalizing as he looks when he gives me that lopsided smirk of his. I blink to snap out of it and pull away from him suddenly. Accidentally dropping the cloth on my legs, the air between us pauses for a beat before he picks it up, his eyes still on me and his hand grazing the skin on my thigh. I'm suddenly very aware of how hitched up my dress is as I sit on the counter, and how I have a damned dagger right there, in full view. I panic, "What the hell was that?" I snap my head to the window in my bedroom and he turns his head. I quickly throw the dagger in the sink and it gets covered by makeup products.

"What is it?" He asks, a confused look plastered across his face.

"Sorry I thought I saw a bird hit my window," I say, playing with the hair at the back of my neck nervously.

"You're weird," He says as he scans my eyes, and I know it's the alcohol talking. I pause for a moment and realise that somewhere between now and a couple seconds ago his hands have moved to my thighs. A breath hitches in my throat when I trail my eyes up his body and realise he's wearing his office clothing, just with a few of the top buttons undone and his cuffs rolled up. The sight of his forearms could make me feral, is that normal? They're forearms and my body is screaming reproduce right now. I swallow the lump in my throat.

"Why are you here?" I ask, an attempt to shift the air between us.

"I told you already," His words slur as he speaks, his tone low and drowsy.

"Why are you drunk right now?" I clarify.

Griffin takes a deep breath, "I had a fight with my father." I pause, not really sure why he actually told me, I was expecting another joke.

"Does this happen a lot?"

"No, I don't think- I mean- we fight often." He stumbles over his words, "But this is the first time I really couldn't take it." Griffin's gaze lowers, and I'm glad I noticed my dagger before he did.

"So you went out and got drunk and into a bar fight?" I ask.

"You're judging me again, why the fuck are you always judging me?" He grunts out and I'm caught off guard by his words, I don't judge him - not that much anyway, right?

"I- I'm not judging you Griffin, I want to help," I say, my words coming out as a little plea.

He looks up at me, searching my eyes for the truth before he continues.

"I just wanted to go out for a drink, this wasn't my intention," His gaze softens. "He called me a failure, and I mean, I'm sure he's right but I'm tired of hearing it every damned day," Griffin's breathless as he speaks, "I mean shit, that's why he hired you without telling me. He doesn't think I can do this on my own and he might be right." His eyes burn with regret and I'm in awe that Griffin has honestly told me about it all, my chest burns with pity. No one deserves to have those words said to them by a parent, I reach out for his face like I can somehow take his pain from him and he nuzzles his face into my hand. My body takes over and before I know it I'm pulling him into a hug, his arms wrap around my waist and mine around his neck. I play with the hair at the nook of his neck. He leans into my touch and I nearly lose all composure at the feeling of his thumb drawing circles at my waist.

"For what it's worth, I think he's wrong. You're not a failure Griffin. And even if you had to run this company alone, I know you could do it. But you don't, I'm yours to keep." My voice is soft and unsure. Griffin is silent, but his embrace speaks to me. Our bodies fit. We stay like that for a second and I sink into his touch, it's warm and soft and...home. The world floats away into nothing, and it's just Griffin's familiar scent, the rain outside and our synchronised breathing. Finally his breathing slows and he pulls away, his gaze is soft and pulls me in more every blink.

"You look absolutely exquisite, Ayla." He says and warmth pools in my stomach at his words and the way his lips utter my name. "I'm sorry if I ruined your plans for the night, I'll leave now." He begins walking away and I reach for his hand, pulling him back.

"Stay." I say, unsure. Griffin just nods.

"I'll sleep on the couch," He says as he walks away.

But I'm not sure that's where I want him.