Page 21 of How to Date a Younger Man
“If you think I’m paying you a hundred dollars for that, you’re mistaken.” I scoff, shifting my weight from one foot to the other and tossing my hair over my shoulder.
“You’ll find another way to repay me.” He winks, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. The hem of his T-shirt lifts slightly with the motion, giving me a quick sneak peek of his abs, still as tanned and rippling as ever.
Jeez. It’s not even fair.
My stomach cartwheels at the sight, and suddenly I remember how often he’s showed up to our group hangouts, sweaty and gross from lifting at the gym. He’s a strong guy; he knew he could handle the bookcase. And I should have known that too. So, why was I so worried about him hurting himself?
Before I can consider the question any further, Griffin claps his hands, assessing all the boxes and furniture he’s perfectly Tetrised into the truck.
“Is this everything?” he asks, tucking a misaligned box back into its stack.
“I think so. But I’ll go do one last walkthrough.”
Climbing the stairs to my third-floor walkup for the last time, I think about all the memories I’m leaving behind here. All the girls’ nights I’ve had with my friends, all the boyfriends who’ve passed through, all the times I tried to cook myself a nice meal and almost burned the place down.
I spent a good chunk of my twenties and thirties in this apartment, but I can say with confidence that now feels like as good a time as any to let it go. Tossing the keys on the kitchen counter, I wave good-bye to my old space, feeling a strange mix of calm and anxiety over seeing it all hollowed out.
I walk back outside to find Griffin leaning against the side of the truck, scrolling through his phone. He looks up and smiles when he hears me coming, tucking his phone into his back pocket.
“You ready?” he asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
It’s not a long drive to my new place, but in typical LA fashion, traffic turns what would be a fifteen-minute drive into a forty-five-minute one, giving the two of us plenty of time to catch up.
“So, how’s Cora?” I ask. “Still studying for the LSAT?”
“Yeah, she’s planning on taking it next month. Thanks again, by the way, for lending her your old study materials. She says they’re really helping.”
“Of course. I’m always happy to support women in law.”
“She asks about you all the time, you know, wanting to know where you started, how you opened your own firm so young, that sort of thing. It’s kind of weird, actually.” He glances over at me, his brows scrunching together.
When Kristen told me about Griffin’s new girlfriend, I was surprised to hear she wanted to be a lawyer—and not just because he usually went for women with less ambition. The more Kristen told me about Cora, the more she sounded . . . well, familiar.
“She’s probably just looking for a mentor. I’d be happy to meet with her, if that’s something she wants.”
“No, that’s okay. I mean, I’m sure she’d love that, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It sounds like you don’t want me to meet your girlfriend.” Griffin doesn’t respond, staring straight out the windshield, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and an unfamiliar feeling tingles in my belly.
“Do you not want me to meet her?” I press, crossing my arms and shifting in my seat, my eyes widening slightly. “Are you worried I won’t like her? Or that she won’t like me?”
I’ve always introduced him to the guys I was dating over the years—if they stuck around long enough to meet my friends, that is.
He stays silent, chewing his lip and pointedly avoiding eye contact, pretending to be hyper-focused on the stop-and-go traffic ahead of us.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, mister, but I’m going to have to meet her sooner or later. You can’t hide her away forever.”
He finally speaks. “We’ll see about that.”
Shaking my head, I turn to look out my window, bothered by how weird Griffin is acting.
Is he embarrassed about being friends with a woman ten years older than him? That can’t be it; he just said that she’s impressed by what I do. Does he think I’ll be rude and judgmental with her? Sure, I can be hard to please sometimes, but surely he’s not under the impression that I would be anything but sweet to his girlfriend. Not that any of them have ever stuck around long enough for me to meet them before.
Maybe that’s what it is. He’s not used to having to introduce a girlfriend to his friends. That, I can understand. That makes sense to me, even if it does hurt my feelings a little.
By the time we finally make it to my new house, Kristen and my mom are already there, chatting away in the driveway, and they wave when they see us pull up. When my mom waggles her eyebrows suggestively at the sight of Griffin in the driver’s seat, I roll my eyes. I love my mom, but she can be such a flirt sometimes, especially when it comes to young, attractive men. Thankfully, he’s too busy trying to back the truck up to the curb to notice her gawking at him.
