* * *
He’d almost made it to the pier entrance before he let out a growl of anger. Every bit of him hurt. The healing bruises on his skin, the muscles he’d used to build the stage, but most of all his chest.
It felt like his heart might explode out of his ribcage.
There were people everywhere, brushing past him in their excitement to get on the pier. To eat funnel cake and ride the rollercoaster, or listen to the band whose music was echoing from the stage.
And yet he’d never felt so alone. Or like such an asshole. He wanted the pain to go away. Wanted to take her pain away, too, but it was impossible. He’d messed it up, the way he always did.
“Griff?” Ally called out from the Déjà Brew stall. “You okay?” The makeshift shop was surrounded by customers desperate for a caffeine fix.
He nodded. “I’m good.”
“Where you going?”
“Home.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but he turned and walked away. He didn’t want to talk to anybody. Not now. He had a feeling if he opened his mouth again he’d only hurt someone else.
He needed to get away and close the door on the world. Maybe then he could think about what he’d just done.
Because right now, it felt like he’d ruined everything.
* * *
“He didn’t mean it,” Lydia said, passing Autumn another tissue. “He was blindsided by Josh and Dad arriving, that’s all. It was his ego talking, and we all know that guys’ egos are full of bullshit. Give him a day to sober up and he’ll be begging you to take him back.”
“Maybe I don’t want him back,” Autumn said, shaking her head wearily. Every muscle in her body ached. It was like she’d spent the day climbing Everest rather than overseeing a charity event. The pier closed an hour ago, laughing visitors leaving after the final concert, as the fairground rides switched off one by one. And now the pier was empty, save for Autumn, Lydia, and Ally who’d snuck into her office with a bottle of wine and three glasses. Ally was pouring them out as Lydia helped mop up Autumn’s tears.
“Griff’s a complex guy,” Ally said, passing the wine out. “He’s like an iceberg. That top ten percent is calm and easy-going as hell. But it hides all the crap he’s been through in his life.” Her eyes caught Autumn’s. “And he’s been through a lot.”
“I know.” Autumn blew her nose loudly. “But he shouldn’t take it out on me.”
Ally smiled. “You’re one of the only ones he shows the ninety percent to. That means he trusts you.” She pulled out the chair next to Autumn’s. “But that doesn’t mean he should get away with it. You should definitely give him hell, nobody should talk to you like that. But maybe you can understand why he’s the way he is. He’s built up this armor to protect himself.”
“Then you stripped the armor away,” Lydia said, patting Autumn’s hand. “And he panicked, like a wild animal.”
“That’s a pretty good description of him,” Autumn muttered, remembering the hardness in his stare. “It was like he’d closed in on himself and was lashing out without thinking.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. “And it hurt.”
“Of course it did.” Lydia hugged her. “You poor thing.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Go home and go to bed, I guess.” Autumn looked at Lydia. “All your things are at Griff’s, but I don’t think I can go there. Can you go pick them up in the morning and bring them back to the cottage?”
“Of course. But you’ll have to face him yourself some time.”
“I can’t. Not yet.” Not without it hurting too much.
“What’ll you do if you two never make up?” Ally asked. “Would you still stay here?”
Autumn ran her finger around the top of her glass. She hadn’t touched a drop. The thought of it made her stomach tight. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But it would be difficult if I did. Griff’s a tenant and I’ll have to work with him every day.”
Her mouth was dry at the thought. Could she deal with seeing him every day knowing she couldn’t touch him, go home with him, laugh with him? So much of her time in Angel Sands had been spent with him, first as friends, then as friends with benefits, and now as…
Nothing.
The blankness made her heart ache. And the tears started to pour all over again.