They were in the forest by the lake several days later, and Beverly wobbled her way over a half-rotten log while Griffin chuckled from his spot leaning against a tree nearby.

"Getting ready for the Olympics?" he joked, his smile small but full of amusement.

Feeling especially playful, Beverly did an exaggerated spin before nearly toppling off the log; once her feet were on solid ground, she threw her arms up over her head, like she'd always seen the professional gymnasts do on TV.

"Thank you, thank you!" she cooed to an imaginary audience, blowing kisses at a cluster of ferns.

Griffin released a full-on laugh at her antics, and a now-familiar swelling of adoration grew in Beverly's gut. He had the most beautiful laugh. "C'mere, Peach," he coaxed, holding out a hand in invitation.

Bouncing over, Beverly took his hand, squeaking when he pulled her into his chest, her ear pressed against his racing heartbeat. She smiled at the feel. It was nice to know that she wasn't the only one who got nervous when they were together.

Griffin nuzzled his nose into her hair, his shoulders relaxed, his large frame equivalent to a safety blanket around her. "Good?" he asked softly, his lips pressing against her brow.

She snuggled closer, humming, "Good," and squeezing her arms around his waist.

After a moment, Griffin shifted slightly and questioned, "Will you tell me something?"

Running her fingers over his jacket-clad lower back, Beverly nodded. "I don't see why I wouldn't, unless you're asking for my social security or credit card number, in which case: Nice try, buddy."

He snorted. "No need to worry, Beverly; I don't plan on asking for those things anytime soon."

"Well, in that case, ask away."

Griffin was silent for a moment, the fingers on one hand playing with her hair thoughtfully, before he murmured, "What's your family like?"

Beverly had to stop herself from pulling back and looking up at him, curious to see his expression. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised by the question, though. As close as they had gotten, Beverly hadn't mentioned much about her family; she hadn't wanted to make Griffin feel self-conscious about the fact that his parents had passed.

If he was outright asking her, however . . . "They're great," she confessed, lips twisting into a smile. "Mom's outgoing, really funny, and a bit of a mess, but I love her to bits; Dad doesn't talk much and looks really intimidating, but he's a big sweetheart on the inside."

"And the twins?"

"Felicity and Abraham, though we just call him Abe," she chuckled at the thought of the troublemakers. "They're nuts; they're both really smart, very energetic, constantly causing trouble, and always communicating with one another through some weird twin telepathy link.

"Felicity loves theater, and she's extremely artistic too. Abe's a talented baseball player, even though he's only fourteen—he's hoping to be named captain of the junior varsity league this year and wants to join the varsity league when he's sixteen."

"They sound wonderful," Griffin mumbled, his voice tinged with wistfulness.

Beverly couldn't stop a swell of sympathy from rising in her gut, and she was glad he couldn't see her face; she knew he wouldn't appreciate pity. "They are." She agreed. "I know your dad was an asshole, but what was your mom like?" She hoped the question wouldn't upset him.

Thankfully, Griffin wasn't upset; in fact, he chuckled heartily, his fingers staying steady as they stroked over her scalp. "Crazy. Around my dad, she was quiet, submissive, and completely unlike herself," Beverly didn't miss the loathing for the man clear in his words, "but when it was just her, me, or Cynthia . . . she never stopped talking, and her mind jumped from topic to topic like some kind of hyperactive kangaroo. She was always looking for an adventure, and—when she couldn't find one easily—she'd create her own."

His voice dropped an octave. "It hurt so much, to know my father took away her spirit. She didn't deserve that."

There wasn't much Beverly could say, so instead of speaking, she tightened her hold on him, pleased when he bent down further to settle his nose in the crook of her neck, his breaths slow and peaceful.

They remained in that position for what could have been seconds or hours—time slipped by Beverly when she was with him. Finally, Griffin pulled away slightly, looking down at her with a furrowed brow.

"What?" she asked, tilting her head at a funny angle in an attempt to see him better.

God, but he is tall.

"We have to go meet your friend, but I'd much rather stay here."

The words were like a bucket of cold water, and Beverly snapped back, her expression shocked. "Is it time already?" A quick glance at her phone confirmed that it was, indeed, time to go meet Alicia. "Crap, we've got to skedaddle. I can't believe we—"

Griffin cut her off with a chaste kiss, pulling away from her lips with a crooked smile. "You are adorable. Come on, Beverly."

Taking her hand in his, Griffin led her carefully back down the hill, his grip a comforting pressure against her skin. "Hey, Griffin?" she asked when they were settled in his car and on their way to Cynthia's Coffeehouse.

He directed the car out of the parking lot, shooting her a curious look out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, Beverly."

She stuck her tongue out at him, pleased when he chuckled heartily. "Okay, Smart One. Since you're coming with me to meet my friend, when do I meet your friends?"

The change in Griffin was instantaneous. His shoulders rolled back, his knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, and his jaw clenched. "Not anytime soon."

Warning bells rang in Beverly's head. Something's not right here. "Oh? Scared I'll make them think less of you?"

He tried to smile, but it was brittle and entirely fake. "Of course not, Beverly; I'm sure you'd bring my reputation up several notches."

She eyed him for several beats, before blowing out a defeated breath, growing serious. "Griffin."

"Sorry," he apologized immediately, his hands shifting over the steering wheel and angling the car to the shoulder. Once they'd come to a stop, he turned to face her, snatching her hands in his, his eyes pleading for her to understand. "You're wonderful, Beverly. I don't . . ." he trailed off, his eyes faraway as he stared at something over her shoulder. "I don't like the thought of my life getting entangled with yours; you don't deserve to be tainted by it.

"I don't have many friends anymore, if I'm honest, and those I do aren't exactly saints. I just . . . Eventually, you'll meet them. For now, though, I'm going to be selfish and keep our time just between us."

It wasn't hard to see things from Griffin's point of view. His past wasn't exactly pretty, and Beverly wasn't blind to how he looked at her—when she caught him staring, his eyes were full of love, hope, and a tint of sadness. There was no doubt that he worried she would leave if confronted by his dark past.

Leaning over the console and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, Beverly promised herself that, over time, she'd show him that she was in this for the long run. She wouldn't leave, even if his friends were assholes.

***

When they arrived at Cynthia's, Alicia was already inside, settled at one of the larger tables with a mug of coffee to her right as she worked on her computer. With a call of, "Hey, Lab Buddy!" Beverly made Alicia look up, a wide grin on the other girl's lips.

The grin quickly vanished when her eyes settled on Beverly's boyfriend. Alicia took one look at Griffin, swiveled her head to Beverly, and mouthed the words, Holy fricking shit, Beverly!

Beverly grinned smugly. I know, she mouthed back, nodding her head once.

"Hi," Alicia recovered as she stepped closer, though her voice was a bit breathy. "I'm Alicia; Beverly and I are in Bio together."

Griffin graced the girl with a half-smile (Beverly inwardly cooed, knowing that only she and Cynthia were lucky enough to get Griffin's genuine, happy smiles and bright laughter). "It's nice to meet you. I'm Griffin, Beverly's boyfriend."

You are not a teenage girl, Beverly scolded herself when she felt her knees weaken at his words. You will not swoon just because he called himself your boyfriend. That is childish. Do it later, when no one can see you.

Right. That was as good a plan as any.

"The pleasure is mine, Griffin, really," Alicia gushed, causing Beverly to roll her eyes and fake a gag. Alicia shot her the stink-eye, before the wide smile was plastered on her face once more. "Tell me, does Beverly cause you as much trouble as she causes me? Because she almost got us kicked out of lab several times."

"That wasn't my fault!" Beverly protested, at the same time Griffin asked, "How?"

Sending him a stern look to shut him up, Beverly said again, "That wasn't my fault, Alicia. The TA labeled the bottles wrong! How was I supposed to know it was hydrochloric acid?"

Griffin's brows rose. "I want the story," he deadpanned, looking to Alicia, and Beverly's mouth dropped open.

Really?! Of all the times for him to suddenly become an over-friendly extrovert!

"Griffin!" she tugged at his shirt, but he only shot her a wink and moved with Alicia to the table, the two talking as though they were long-lost friends.

Desperate, she turned to Cynthia, who was settled behind the counter and—Oh, come on, Cynthia. Seriously?

"Is that popcorn?" Beverly asked flatly, giving up on the other two and stepping towards the counter.

Cynthia grinned through a mouthful of the buttery snack. "I knew this was going to be good. Don't hate on me, Beverly," she added when she saw Beverly's glare. "I am a planner, so I planned ahead and just-so happened to restock my secret stash of popcorn."

"Sure," Beverly grumbled, sticking her hand in Cynthia's bowl and snatching a handful of the food.

"You're not worried, right? Or jealous?" Cynthia's voice grew somber.

Beverly managed a good-natured smile. "Nah. I trust both of them; I just don't want them to keep talking—Alicia is close to me, so she knows way too much about all my embarrassing moments."

Cynthia laughed. "To be honest, that's why Griffin is acting the way he is." They both looked at the boy, who seemed very invested in whatever the other girl was saying. "He cares about you, and he wanted so bad for this to work out. After all," Cynthia shot her a look, as though they were sharing some sort of humorous inside joke, "a best friend's opinion on a boyfriend is absolutely essential, eh?"

The thought that Griffin was trying so hard, even though he was way out of his comfort zone (the way his fingers twitched against his thigh under the table was an indication of that) made Beverly smile shyly.

How sweet it was, to be cared for by such a kind, admirable man.