Page 19 of How to Date a Younger Man
“You’re amazing. Sunflower Café has the strongest espresso in town, bless them.” She sips the latte gratefully before turning to me incredulously. “You made all this? Since when are you so domestic?”
“One of the perks of being a former party boy is that you learn all the best hangover cures,” I say, ushering her into a chair. “Believe me, these scrambled eggs have gotten me through some of the roughest mornings of my life.”
Layne snorts. “I can only imagine.” She takes a bite of the eggs and her eyes light up. “How is this so good? Did you put crack in here or something?” she asks, forking another huge bite into her mouth.
“It’s a trade secret,” I tell her with a wink. “If you’re lucky, I’ll give you the recipe someday.”
“Or you’ll just have to come over here every time I’m hung over to make it for me,” she says before sipping her orange juice.
“Deal,” I say, grinning.
“I’m still in shock that you did all this for me. You’re full of surprises, Griff.” She looks into my eyes, holding my gaze for a few moments before she shakes her head and looks away. “But, seriously, thanks for all of this. It’s so thoughtful. And I know I’m not exactly being Miss Sunshine right now.”
I wave her concerns away. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help a friend in need.”
“Speaking of our friendship,” she says, setting her fork down.
Oh no, here it comes.
“About what happened between us last night. I’m sorry. I crossed a line.”
I shake my head. “Layne, don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there before. You were depressed and drunk. I just happened to be here, and you were looking for some comfort. Believe me, I get it.”
Smiling, she nods. “Thanks for understanding. Having you here truly is helping. I almost don’t feel like I want to throw myself off a bridge this morning.”
“Anytime you need someone to give you back your will to live, you know where to find me,” I say, lifting my glass of orange juice. She follows suit, and we clink glasses.
Frowning, she shakes her head at her plate. “God, I can’t believe I wasted so much time on that guy.”
“You want me to kill him?” I ask innocently, and she snorts.
“Could you?”
“Jokes aside, I’m always here for you, Layne,” I say, looking into her bright green eyes.
She nods back at me. “I know, Griff. What would I do without you?”
I smile, and we finish eating in a comfortable silence.
So, maybe it’s not exactly how I pictured my first time spending the night at Layne’s, but I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. Things between us may not be conventional, but somehow it feels right.
7
* * *
LAYNE
One year ago
The idling of a truck engine purrs outside, and I take a peek out the window. When I spot the rented moving truck stop beside the curb, I smile.
Right on time, a first for Griffin. For as long as I’ve known him, punctuality hasn’t exactly been his strong suit. Honestly, it’s amazing what having a serious girlfriend will do to a guy.
Standing and stretching my arms over my head, I take one last look around the nearly empty living room, cardboard boxes piled around the perimeter. When I closed escrow on my dream house last week, I thought the high of home ownership would be enough to carry me through the inevitable moving blues.
But no matter how excited I might be to be moving into my forever home—on my own dime, no less—I can’t quite shake this gnawing feeling that something’s missing. I guess I just thought that by the time I bought the home I planned to spend the rest of my life in, I’d have someone to share it with.
But then again, not wanting to wait around for Mr. Right any longer is the exact reason I went ahead and put an offer down on the modern two-story Spanish-style home I’d been eyeing for months. It’s my life, whether it looks the way I thought it would or not. And there’s no damn way I’m going to waste another second of it letting myself feel broken or incomplete.
“Morning,” Griffin says cheerfully as he walks through the door, his turquoise eyes sparkling like they always do when he’s in a playful mood. “You ready to do this thing?”
I’m glad to see he’s in such good spirits this morning. Spending your day off helping a friend move shouldn’t rate that high on weekend priorities.
“So ready,” I say. “But, seriously, thank you for offering to drive the moving truck. I’d do it myself, but the thought of navigating that thing down Sunset Boulevard nauseates me.”
He grins. “Don’t thank me until we get all your shit where it needs to go in one piece.”
“Do you really have that little faith?” I ask as I bend down to heft a box of old law books onto my hip. As I lift the box, the books slide to the other end, shifting the weight away from me and making it difficult for me to keep my grip.
