I Like You a Latte {Completed}

15 | Noticing the Protectiveness

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Griffin asked her softly as they sat in his car, parked in front of her dorm.

A quick glance at him showed Beverly the vulnerability in his gaze as he stared at the steering wheel. She wasn't stupid; he'd opened up to her that day, what with showing her his tattoos and confessing that he was interested in her. Stretching her arm across the center console, she placed several fingers under his chin and tugged lightly.

Recognizing what she was trying to accomplish, Griffin chuckled lightly as he turned to face her. Once she had captured his eyes with hers, Beverly leaned forward and kissed him gently, then murmured against his lips, "Do you want to see me tomorrow?"

He nodded instantly, the movement so sudden he almost slammed his head into Beverly's. He pulled back after a moment, his skin flushed, and Beverly laughed. "Good," she confessed, "I'm glad—I want to see you, too. Will you make me a mocha?"

Griffin rubbed his neck nervously but agreed nonetheless. "Unless you want something else."

"Please," she fanned herself dramatically. "If I ever ask for something else, you can just go ahead and take me to the hospital; I'd need to have my head checked."

There was silence, but Griffin wasn't mad at her antics. Instead, his face contained a mixture of adoration and amusement. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked after a moment, using one hand to finger her hair.

"Make me a mocha and treat me like a princess," she retorted immediately, her tone dry.

Laughing, Griffin clambered out of the car, racing over to her side and pulling open her own door before tugging her into his arms and embracing her tightly. "Thank you, Beverly," he murmured into her hair, one hand clutching her hip while the other rested against the back of her head.

Getting over her shock at the sudden action, Beverly looped her arms around his waist, her fingers catching against his shirt. "For what?" her voice was muffled against his chest.

He blew out a heavy sigh, his body relaxing against hers. "For being there. For making me smile. For not pushing me."

Feeling her heart melt into a pile of mush, Beverly pressed a kiss against his shirt, taking comfort in the heat of his body that seeped through the cloth. "It's not a problem, you know. But you're welcome."

They soaked in one another's presence for several more minutes before Griffin pulled back, his smile a bit sad. "Can I walk you up? I don't . . ." he swallowed thickly, "I don't want to say goodbye just yet."

You will not squeal, Beverly told herself sternly. You will not turn into a twelve-year-old girl, because you are better than that, and an adult such as yourself would not do such a thing.

"Yeah," she said when she had calmed her inner tween, "I'd love that." Griffin's lips twisted into a breathtaking smile, and he snatched up her hand in the next second, fingers tightly entwined with hers.

"Do you miss your family?" his words were quiet, but she didn't miss the genuine curiosity coloring his voice. "During holidays, I mean."

Beverly pondered the question for a moment, her eyes dancing over the lights buzzing against her dorm's building. "Sometimes," she decided finally. "Days like today . . . not so much, since I was able to spend it with some folks who were just as great." She shot Griffin a cheery wink, grinning when he chuckled.

"When I first moved here, though, I missed them constantly. It's gotten better over time; it helps when I remind myself that I'll see them soon enough, and the sooner I finish with school, the sooner I can do that." Another glance at her companion told Beverly that Griffin was still relaxed—she didn't want to ruin his mood, but surely it wouldn't hurt . . . "Do you miss your parents?"