Chapter 6: Mixed Signals
by Roxanne Rene
Griffin had never been good at waiting.
And yet, that was exactly what he was doing.
Waiting for Jewel to call. Waiting for her to show up. Waiting for some explanation as to why, after that moment in the hospital, she had disappeared.
Instead, he got Camilla. And Camilla wouldn’t. Stop. Talking.
“You look better today,” she said, smiling as she settled onto his couch.
Griffin resisted the urge to sigh.
He had only been home for a few hours, but somehow, Camilla had already inserted herself into his apartment, acting like she belonged there.
Like she was the one he wanted here.
“You should rest,” she added, reaching for his arm.
Griffin pulled away. “I’m fine.”
Camilla pouted slightly, but before she could say anything else—
The door buzzer rang.
Griffin’s entire body tensed. He had no idea why. No reason to hope. And yet, when he opened the door?
Jewel stood there.
Her long, chocolate-brown hair fell in waves around her shoulders, still glistening with the remnants of the rain outside. The oversized sweater she wore slipped casually off one shoulder, adding to her disheveled appearance. Behind her eyes, there was a noticeable weariness, hinting at long days behind her.
Guilt slammed into him.
Because this was the first time he’d seen her in three days.
But before he could say anything—before he could demand where the hell she had been—she spoke first.
“I just came to drop this off,” she said, holding up a folder of manuscript notes.
Griffin’s chest squeezed.
That was it? After everything—after that moment in the hospital, after the way she had looked at him—all she had for him was a goddamn folder?
He didn’t take it. Not yet. Instead, he studied her, trying to find the cracks in her carefully neutral expression.
“That’s all?” he asked quietly.
Jewel hesitated, just for a second. Then, she nodded. “That’s all.”
Something inside him went cold. Because this? This felt like a goodbye.
Jewel handed over the folder, brushing past him without another word.
Griffin watched her go, his fingers tightening around the papers. Because for the first time since meeting Jewel Marino—
He wondered if he had been wrong about her. Wrong about what they were. Wrong about what she wanted. And wrong about what he thought she felt for him.
Griffin Royce took pride in being a rational man.
His books might have been filled with supernatural chaos, but he was—at his core—a practical, levelheaded, fully functioning adult.
It made absolutely zero sense that he was seething over Jewel Marino’s laughing at something Lucian Cyril had just said.
His Jewel—
Wait. No.
Not his.
And that was the problem.
Griffin sat stiffly at the café table, fingers wrapped around his untouched coffee mug, eyes locked on the pair sitting across the room.
Lucian, Jewel’s editor and apparent partner-in-crime, was leaning back in his chair, smirking like a man who knew exactly how to get under Griffin’s skin.
And Jewel?
She was smiling.
Not her usual sarcastic, exasperated smirk.
No, this was different.
Softer.
Griffin took a slow, controlled breath, reminding himself that he had no right to be irritated.
Jewel had been distant since his hospital stay—polite but detached, pushing him toward Camilla at every opportunity.
Camilla, who had—supposedly—saved his life.
Griffin should be grateful. He should be drawn to her, not distracted by a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.
And yet…
His gaze flickered back to Jewel, watching as she tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, her expression open and at ease.
Lucian said something else, and she laughed again, a rich, genuine sound that made Griffin’s jaw clench.
What in Hell’s seven realms was going on?
Was he—
Jealous?
No. That was ridiculous.
He was Griffin Royce—the Prince of Paranormal Romance, the brooding, untouchable wordsmith—and he did not get jealous over a woman he barely tolerated.
… Except, he did tolerate Jewel. Perhaps, too much.
He scowled, dragging a hand through his still, slightly damp hair—an unfortunate reminder of the fact that he’d recently drowned like an idiot.
Which brought him back to Camilla.
His supposed rescuer.
The woman who had spent the last few days flashing him knowing smiles, dropping hints, and making it clear that she considered him already hers.
He should be falling into it. Into Camilla.
But his focus—his attention—kept pulling elsewhere.
Camilla was easy. Predictable. The kind of woman who fit his public persona.
Jewel was… not.
She was sarcasm and wit, fire and challenge, all wrapped up in a woman who kept slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold on.
And now she was slipping further.
Closer to Lucian.
Griffin’s fingers tightened around his coffee mug.
Lucian looked too comfortable in her presence.
Too familiar.
And Griffin?
Griffin was one irrational moment away from flipping the damn table.
Instead, he exhaled, stood, and made a decision.
If Jewel wanted distance, fine.
But he wouldn’t let her erase herself from his life so easily.
“You realize he’s been staring at us for the last ten minutes, right?”
Jewel paused mid-sip, then groaned. “Lucian. Don’t start.”
Lucian smirked, elbow propped lazily on the table. “I’m just saying. He looks about five seconds away from throwing me into oncoming traffic.”
Jewel ignored the way her stomach twisted and rolled her eyes instead. “Griffin doesn’t care what I do.”
Lucian snorted. “Right. And I’m secretly the Pope.”
Jewel sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. She had enough on her plate without adding Griffin’s sudden interest in her nonexistent love life.
Lucian leaned forward, expression half-amused, half-serious. “Be honest. How long are you planning to keep up this little charade?”
Jewel’s chest tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucian arched a brow. “Oh, you don’t? That’s interesting. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks an awful lot like you’ve been pushing him toward Camilla while simultaneously dying a little inside.”
Jewel’s throat went dry.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
She had been pushing Griffin toward Camilla—forcing him into the arms of someone who fit into his world. But every time she did, it felt like she was giving away something she didn’t want to lose.
Lucian studied her, then sighed. “Look. I get it. You think you’re doing the right thing. But if you keep lying to yourself, you’ll lose him before you even have him.”
Jewel’s pulse jumped—because that was the first time anyone had said it out loud. Before she could respond, a shadow loomed over their table.
And then—
“Lucian.”
Jewel closed her eyes briefly, bracing herself before looking up.
Griffin Royce stood right there, tall and exuding barely restrained frustration. His hands were shoved in his pockets, as if trying very hard to appear unaffected.
Lucian, the traitor, grinned. “Hey, Royce. Enjoying the show?”
Griffin’s blue-gray eyes flicked to Jewel. “Didn’t realize you were in the mood for company.”
Jewel forced a smirk, ignoring the way her pulse tripped at the intensity in his gaze. “Why, Royce? Were you planning to join me?”
A slow, dangerous smirk curled at his lips. “Tempting.”
Lucian choked on his coffee.
Jewel’s cheeks burned. “Don’t you have a date with Camilla or something?”
Griffin’s expression darkened.
And there it was. That moment of hesitation. The tiny crack in his resolve.
Jewel saw it.
Lucian saw it.
And Griffin knew it.
The truth was written all over his face. He didn’t want Camilla. And Jewel wasn’t ready for what that meant.
myHellian Romance 
Wonderful ♥️
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