Chapter 7: A Slow Burn

by Roxanne Rene

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Griffin Royce didn’t chase women.

It just wasn’t his style. But right now? He was one step away from chasing Jewel Marino through Chinatown if it meant figuring out why the hell she was acting like he didn’t exist.

It had been days. Days since she started avoiding him like he carried the plague. At first, he thought maybe he’d imagined it.

But then came the missed calls, rescheduled writing sessions, and her sudden refusal to be alone in a room with Griffin for more than five minutes. And now?

She was officially out of excuses.

Griffin leaned against the brick wall outside the publishing office, arms crossed as he watched her stride toward the exit, clearly hoping to make a clean getaway.

Not happening, Marino.

“Going somewhere?”

Jewel froze mid-step, shoulders tensing for half a second before she schooled her face into carefully crafted indifference. “I am,” she said smoothly, not looking at him. “Busy day. Slammed, in fact, for the next few weeks, months… decades.”

A grin split Griffin’s lips wide. “Liar.”

She exhaled dramatically, finally meeting his gaze. “What do you want, Royce?”

He pushed off the wall and took a slow step toward her. “You’ve been keeping me at a distance.”

Jewel snorted. “You’re paranoid.”

Griffin tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Am I?”

She shrugged, trying to look casual. “Not everything is about you, you know.”

Griffin gave a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “See, I’d believe that—except you’ve been pushing me toward Camilla like it’s your full-time job. Almost like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

Jewel’s jaw tightened. “Maybe I am.”

Griffin’s pulse spiked.

There it was. The crack in Jewel’s armor.

He moved boldly closer, narrowing the gap between them with purposeful strides. Jewel instinctively tilted her chin upward, meeting his gaze. The intensity of his eyes commanded her attention, and the electric tension in the air spoke volumes without a single word being exchanged.

“Why?” he asked, voice low.

Jewel ran her tongue over her lips, a telltale sign of nerves. “Because you and Camilla make sense.”

Griffin let out a short, humorless laugh. “No, we don’t.”

“You like her.”

“Says who?”

“You should,” Jewel countered.

“Maybe.” He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against her cheek. “But I don’t.”

Jewel sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

She was fighting this. Fighting him. And Griffin, being the relentless bastard that he was, wouldn’t make it easy for her.

“You can keep pretending all you want, Marino,” he murmured, voice silk and sin. “But we both know what this is.”

Jewel swallowed hard. “And what’s that?”

Griffin smirked. “Undeniable.”

For a moment, she looked like she might break—like she might step forward and surrender. But then, she took a step back.

Griffin felt the loss of her warmth like a slap.

Jewel squared her shoulders and muttered under her breath a word Griffin surmised was an Chinese explitive. “You’re wrong.”

And then, before he could call her bluff, she walked away.

Again.

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Pushing Griffin Royce toward another woman shouldn’t have been this hard. And yet, every time she did, it felt like pressing a knife deeper into her chest.

Her phone buzzed on the table beside her, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced at the Caller ID, sighing as she answered. “Tell me this is a work call.”

“Tell me you did not run away from Griffin again,” Lucian articulated as though each word came with a recoil.

Jewel pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead. “That man is impossible.

“Correction: you’re impossible,” Lucian shot back. “If you keep this up, I swear to God, I’m locking you two in a room until you work out whatever the hell this is.”

Jewel ignored the way her heart pounded at the thought. “Nothing is going on. We’re just a little low on inspiration.”

Lucian snorted. “That’s why you sound like someone just kicked your puppy.”

Jewel closed her eyes, taking a slow breath. “Bye, Lucian,” she said in a sugary-sweet tone before stabbing a red button to end the call.

“Was that Lucian?” Griffin continued typing, but every strike of his fingers against the keyboard sounded like he was taking a flail to it. The thought made Jewel wince.

“You know,” Jewel said, tapping her own laptop, “Camilla mentioned she’s going to that publishing gala on Friday. You should go with her.”

Griffin, who had been reviewing their latest chapter, didn’t even look up. “Not interested.”

Jewel forced a laugh. “Come on, Royce. Big industry event, free food, an excuse to dress like a brooding billionaire? That’s your whole aesthetic.” She knew Griffin’s love for dramatic entrances and his disdain for social events, but she also knew his loyalty to his work.

He looked up, and his gaze—sharp, unreadable, assessing—made her stomach do a 360. “What’s with you lately?” he asked.

Jewel’s fingers stilled over her keyboard. “Nothing,” she said, her usual bravado gone.

Griffin leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “Bullshit.”

“I just think you and Camilla would look good together. That’s all.” Jewel forced herself to smile, even as her insides twisted.

The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Griffin’s expression shifted. Something dark and dangerous flickered behind his blue-gray eyes—something quietly disappointed. Like he was starting to believe her. Jewel’s chest tightened, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air.

“Right,” he said, then, without another word, turned back to the manuscript. And just like that, something between them snapped. The shift was subtle at first.

Griffin stopped lingering after their writing sessions.

Stopped asking if she wanted coffee.

Stopped looking at her the way he used to.

Jewel told herself this was good. Necessary. But that didn’t explain why her stomach twisted whenever she caught him laughing at something Camilla said.

Or why she hated watching Camilla touch his arm like she had any right.

Jewel clenched her jaw, staring down at her untouched drink as the three of them sat in the café, discussing last-minute revisions before their book went to the publisher.

“You two are so in sync,” Camilla mused, sipping her latte. It’s honestly quite impressive.

Jewel forced a smile, ignoring the tightness in her chest. “It’s just work.”

Griffin’s fingers tightened slightly around his mug.

Jewel noticed.

Camilla, oblivious, leaned toward Griffin with perfect ease. “So, did you think about my gala invitation?”

Griffin’s jaw ticked.

Jewel had to physically stop herself from looking at him.

She had pushed him toward this. Encouraged him. Now, she had to live with it. “You should go,” she said, forcing the words out before she could retract them.

A muscle in Griffin’s jaw jumped. And then, for the first time, he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked at her, eyes dark with something unreadable. And then he said, “Fine.”

Jewel felt something in her chest shatter.

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Griffin should have known better. He should have known Jewel Marino didn’t want him. Because if she did?

She wouldn’t be pushing him toward someone else.

She wouldn’t be smiling when he agreed to go to the gala with Camilla like it didn’t get her the way it gutted him.

So he’d go.

And he’d stop waiting for Jewel to want him back.

The night of the gala, Griffin put on the custom-tailored suit Camilla had insisted would “bring out his eyes.” He let her drape herself over him like a damn trophy, let her lead him into the event like they were some perfect publishing couple.

It should have been easy. Camilla was beautiful, intelligent, and socially flawless—everything Jewel insisted made sense for him.

But she wasn’t Jewel.

She wasn’t the woman who argued with him over dialogue choices at 2 a.m.

She wasn’t the woman who saved his life.

She wasn’t the woman who looked at him like she wanted him—but kept shoving him away.

And he was tired of pretending that didn’t matter. So, when Camilla leaned up to whisper something in his ear, Griffin didn’t hear a damn word.

Because from his spot at the entrance, he watched Jewel walk in, and for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t avoiding him.

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Return to Chapter 6 <— —> Continue to Chapter 8 March 24