Page 10 of How to Date a Younger Man
As Kristen and I start plating our food, she leans over to me, raising her eyebrows in the direction of the living room. “Please tell me he hasn’t been weird in the two minutes I was gone,” she murmurs, a touch of amusement in her voice.
“What? Uh, no, he’s been fine,” I stammer, taken aback by her comment.
“Ever since he hit puberty, Griffin has been . . . forward, to say the least. I’m sorry. If I’d known he was going to be here, I would have warned you.”
“Honestly, there’s nothing to apologize for. He’s totally harmless.”
“Okay, well, if he gets gross or comes on to you or anything, don’t be afraid to, like, smack him or something.”
The image of me smacking his tight ass crosses my mind, but I brush it off. He’s Kristen’s little brother. And not at all what I’m looking for right now.
“I’ll keep that in mind. But, honestly, Kris, it’s fine. You have nothing to worry about.”
By the time we join Griffin in the living room with food, he’s packing up his things to go out and says something about meeting some friends. He doesn’t meet my gaze when he says good-bye, but Kristen doesn’t seem to notice that anything’s up.
She and I spend the rest of the night scarfing down our takeout food and reminiscing about the crazy shenanigans we used to get into in and it makes me feel even more secure in my decision to turn Griffin down.
It might sting for him a little now, but ultimately, it’s the right choice for both of us. He has all kinds of fun and trouble to get into in the next few years, and the last thing he needs is to be held back by the expectations of an older woman.
And me? I’ve got a law firm to run—and a Mr. Forever to find.
4
* * *
GRIFFIN
Three years ago
“Griff, are you home?” Kristen calls out as she enters the apartment we share.
“Yeah, in here,” I say from where I’m working at the kitchen counter. I’ve spent the last hour assembling a casserole dish of mushroom-and-spinach lasagna.
“Oh my God, that looks amazing.”
She pauses beside me, gazing down into the dish that I’ve carefully layered with cheese, noodles, and marinara sauce. Cooking isn’t something I do regularly so it’s obvious she’s impressed.
“Mmm, is it vegetarian?” she asks, stealing a sautéed mushroom from the pan and popping it into her mouth.
“Of course.” I grin at her, my strange non-meat-eating sister. But, hey, since for the most part, she buys the groceries around here, it would be a major dick move not to accommodate her wishes—even if I miss eating, well, all the dead animals. God, I’d kill for some bacon.
“You’re my hero. But don’t be mad, okay?” She forces a fake smile, narrowing her eyes at me.
I raise a brow in her direction. “Why, what’s up?”
“I told Layne we’d meet her at seven at Lario’s for appetizers and drinks. She’s dating someone new and wants me to meet him.”
It’s Friday night, and I should have known my sister would want to go out. “I have plans with Wren later anyway. I guess we could join you guys for a drink.”
“Awesome. Would you be mad if we popped this in the fridge and had it for dinner tomorrow night? It looks amazing.”
I shrug. “That’s cool. But because I just spent an hour cooking for you, you’re buying my first drink.”
Kristen grins. “You have yourself a deal. Now, go get ready. We leave in thirty.” She shoos me away before sauntering into her room. “Yes, ma’am.” I quickly finish adding mozzarella cheese to the top, and then cover the whole dish with plastic wrap before placing it in the fridge. Then I grab my phone to text my friend Wren about the change in plans.
Thirty minutes later, Kristen and I stroll into Lairo’s, the trendy new bar-restaurant that opened earlier this year in the center of downtown. It’s kind of a pain in the ass to get to, but since Layne wants us to meet her new guy, and there’s very little I wouldn’t do for her … here we are. A large circular bar dominates the center of the room, and several high-top tables are scattered around the perimeter.
I spot Layne right away. She’s sitting by herself at one of the high-top tables for six. Rather than staring down at her phone, like anyone else would probably be doing, Layne is people watching. As a lawyer, she has a knack for reading people and I know this because she’s always seen straight through all my lines.
But then I notice that her gaze is locked on a couple sitting at the bar. A very touchy couple, from the looks of it. They’re turned on their bar stools to face each other, and are holding hands while they talk in hushed tones. A large diamond sparkles on her finger, and he’s laughing at something she’s said.
