“Robe,” Noah called. “You’re only wearing a robe, Brooks.”
But she didn’t comment. Instead she threw open the door to find Griffin standing, poised to knock again.
“Shit,” Griffin said, catching himself before knocking on Jordan’s forehead. “Sorry.”
“What’s going on?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“Maggie and I kind of— We’re in the middle of— I know this is shitty to ask after you two just got engaged and everything, but I need a place to…”
He stopped mid–awkward sentence, his eyes volleying from Jordan to Noah and back to Jordan again.
“You guys don’t look like I imagine happily engaged is supposed to look.”
“I’m going to change,” Jordan said, and she grabbed clothes out of her suitcase and slipped back into the bathroom.
“Are you going somewhere?” Griffin asked her, and she glanced at Noah.
Noah sighed.
“I think you two might be switching rooms.”
“Is Greece cursed or something?” Griffin asked.
Jordan popped out of the bathroom in a gray T-shirt and flannel pants. She looked at Noah.
“A little bonding will do you good. I’ll go hang with Maggie and see you in the morning, okay?”
“No,” he said, wanting her to hear the apology in his voice, since the word “sorry” itself didn’t cut it. “It’s not okay.”
“I love you,” she said. “Let’s just sleep on this.” Then she slipped past Griffin and out the door.
Griffin dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“So,” he said with a pained smile. “You wanna be the big spoon or the little one?”
Noah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them at the sound of the door clicking shut, and then narrowed his gaze at his new roommate.
“I’m the whole freaking drawer of silverware, Reed. But you’re welcome to the couch.”
They both turned toward what could only be described as a loveseat, and a miniature one at that.
Griffin shrugged. “Works for me.” He walked over to what was about to become his makeshift bed and collapsed onto one of the cushions and crossed his arms. “So, are we, like, supposed to talk about our feelings and solve each other’s problems and shit?” he asked.
Noah opened the drawer in the dresser that housed the extra linens and then grabbed a pillow from the bed, chucking the whole pile at Griffin.
“Nope,” Noah said.
Griffin nodded. “I like the way you think. But can I offer one piece of advice?”
Noah shook his head. “You’re going to give it to me anyway, though. Right?”
Griffin smiled. “Looks like you got me all figured out, Keating. All I’m going to say is this—don’t hide anything from her. Put it all out there, all your cards on the table. That’s the only way she’s going to know how you really feel, and it’s the only way she’s going to trust that even when you fuck up, you really do love her and want her to go to Washington with you because a year without her, even if it means chasing a dream, will be a fucking nightmare.”
Noah ran a hand through his hair.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“Maybe a little. I had a couple drinks and considered sleeping in the lobby when I decided this might be the less humiliating of the two choices.”
Noah couldn’t help it. He laughed.
“How are you feeling about your choice right now?” he asked.
Griffin pursed his lips. “Jury’s still out.”
Noah leaned on the edge of the bed.
“I’ll tell her how I feel,” he said. “But I’m not sure that’s enough to fix me ruining our engagement.”
Griffin hissed in a breath. “How’d you do that?”
Noah sighed. “By just being me,” he said.
He reached for the lamp on the side table and clicked it off. Then he sank down onto the bed, still in his clothes but too wiped out to give a shit.
“You should take your own advice,” he told Griffin. “Sounds like you still have a lot to say to Maggie.”
Noah listened as Griffin positioned himself on what had to be the worst excuse for a bed, but he guessed it was a step above the lobby.
“Wise words,” Griffin said. “Wise words.”
Noah chuckled and closed his eyes.
“Good talk, Keating,” Griffin added through a yawn.
“Good talk, Reed.”
And it kind of was, though Noah was sure neither would admit it to anyone outside that room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maggie
Jet lag had finally won, and Maggie was more than willing to succumb. Her will was nothing against the weight of her eyelids. So what if she didn’t know where Griffin had been for the past hour or if he was coming back.
“I need to clear my head,” he’d told her after they walked back to the hotel. Maggie had known Greece would be an adventure, but she couldn’t have anticipated a journey that started with her and Griffin—the whole future in their hands—and would end with them poised for a year apart.
Ugh. The more she thought about it, the heavier her heart became. It was as if it had to work harder to beat against the ache. How would they enjoy whatever time they had left when she knew he was leaving?
Her eyes were open again, and she fought to shut out the world, or at least the room she was supposed to share with the man she loved. Instead she was curled up on her side alone, her body the perfect shape to fit against his, but Griffin wasn’t there.
A knock sounded on the door, and for a second her heart raced until she remembered Griffin had his room key. Who the hell was here at this time of night?
Maggie trudged to the door and rested her eye against the peephole.
Miles winked, as if he could see her peering at him. He was still in his clothes from the plane, and Maggie realized she hadn’t heard from him since he’d texted hours ago about being with Alex.
She threw open the door, ready to launch the inquisition, when she found Jordan standing next to him.
“Okay. What’s going on?” Maggie asked.
Miles crossed his arms and nodded at Jordan. “You first,” he said. “I have a feeling this is going to be interesting.”
Jordan bit her lip. “Ummm…since Griffin is crashing with Noah, I thought I might crash here?”
“Griffin’s crashing with Noah?” Miles asked.
“On your engagement night?” Maggie added. At least she knew where he was now, and that he was safe.
Miles’s eyes widened. “I missed an engagement?” He grabbed Jordan’s hand and put the other on Maggie’s shoulder, nudging one girl backward as he tugged the other into the room with him. “We need a pint of Ben and Jerry’s or something. Do they sell that here?”
Maggie walked to a large gift basket sitting on the dresser.
“No ice cream,” she said. “But we have whatever’s in here.” She rummaged through the various wrapped but obviously homemade treats that had been left for all the out-of-towners at the check-in desk. “These look like a great way to eat our feelings, yes?” Maggie held up a cellophane-covered plate of what looked like small snowballs.
“Shit,” Miles whispered, and Maggie raised her brows.
“Spill it, Parker. Sounds like you have some feelings that need to be eaten, too.”
Miles snatched the goodies from her outstretched hand and carried the plate to the bed where he kicked off his shoes and positioned himself cross-legged next to the girls.
“These…” Miles removed the wrapping from the plate and popped one of the small snowballs into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned. “Are Kourabiedes.”
Maggie and Jordan just stared as the man in front of them seemed to have some sort of sensual experience with the food in his mouth.
“Jesus, Miles,” Maggie said. “It’s just a cookie.”
His eyes flew open.
“Just a cookie? Just a cookie, Mags? Taste one. Both of you get over here and taste one.”