Page 16 of Griffin

He looked good—annoyingly so—and I hated that a guy I barely knew could get under my skin like this.

But my brain was on high alert, every instinct screaming for an escape.

Why hadn’t he said anything? Was he embarrassed?

Or maybe he wanted to forget it ever happened, just like I did.

Either way, I felt a blush creeping up my neck, and the urge to leave twisted in my gut.

This was too much. Working here? Being around him?

With the way my heart seemed to lose its rhythm every time he looked at me? No way.

There had to be some way out of this. Maybe if I acted—I don’t know, unpredictable or just plain out of my element—Griffin would tell Casey I couldn’t handle it.

Or maybe he’d fire me himself. There was no way I’d tell Casey the real reason I couldn’t work here.

He’d press, and eventually, I’d have to explain everything. No. It was my mess, one I didn’t want to drag him into.

But then, Griffin’s gaze drifted my way again, and before I knew it, I was staring back, my face betraying everything.

The pull was there, undeniable, and it terrified me—because if I couldn’t even get through this first meeting, how the hell was I supposed to survive day after day, pretending like nothing had happened?

Chapter 4

Griffin

So, Michael and I were going to pretend we didn’t know each other, huh? It made sense, I guess.

After what happened that night, he was probably still processing the whole ordeal.

But I had to admit, the moment Sawyer and Casey asked me to look out for Casey’s brother, I’d never expected it to be him.

I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head—his hand gripping mine in the cab, so tight and desperate.

And the kiss, soft but with a vulnerability that had stirred something deep inside me.

It was quick, but not hasty—he’d lingered just long enough to make it clear that he meant it.

My wolf’s restlessness hadn’t settled since, the animal as thrown by the memory as I was.

But by the time I’d returned to my hotel room that night, I’d assumed I’d never see him again.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans.

“Casey tells me you’re here to lay low,” I said after Sawyer’s introduction—or rather awkward re-introduction.

Because you might in danger, I didn’t mention out loud, thinking of that night at the convention.

The silence had stretched a bit too long, and I could feel both Sawyer and Casey watching us closely, like they sensed some odd undercurrent.

It seemed like Michael hadn’t shared our little late-night incident with his brother, because Casey gave me a curious look as if wondering what I knew about his sibling that he didn’t.

“Right,” Michael muttered, his tone less than enthusiastic. “And Casey mentioned you’re going to give me a job?”

His reluctance wasn’t entirely unwarranted, I knew—thanks to his stalker, he’d been pulled from his usual life and plunked down in Pecan Pines.

Still, his attitude gnawed at me. This bar wasn’t just a random job for me and my brother.

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