Page 23 of Griffin

It was something grounded, where the stakes weren’t clicks or views but being present and reliable.

And in a way I couldn’t fully explain, I wanted that.

I closed my eyes, letting the night air settle around me, solidifying the decision taking shape in my mind.

Tomorrow, I’d show up ready to work. No more dodging, no more half-efforts.

Griffin deserved better than that. For once, I wanted to prove, maybe even to myself, that I could actually be there for someone else.

No shortcuts, no excuses—just showing up, putting in the effort, and doing something real.

Morning light slanted through the windows of Griffin’s bar as I kneeled down, tackling what I really, really hoped was just hardened gum on the floor near one of the bar stools.

My little “gum bucket,” already half-full, sat beside me, and every scrape of the metal tool against the floor echoed through the empty room.

Noah had let me come in early to help with the morning tasks, which seemed like the least I could do.

Besides, it was oddly satisfying to get the place spotless.

Noah emerged from the back, wiping his hands on a cloth. “You don’t need to work so hard, you know.”

I looked up and shrugged. “Just trying to pull my weight.”

He shook his head slightly, almost amused. “Alright, but Griffin’s the one you’ll have to impress. He’ll be in soon, so don’t overdo it.”

With that, Noah headed out.

I went back to scraping, but every so often, I found myself glancing toward the entrance, a strange knot of nerves tightening in my stomach.

When I heard the rumble of a truck pull up outside, I straightened, quickly checking my reflection in the shiny wood of the counter.

I ran a hand through my hair, adjusted the towel at my waist, and tightened my apron. Any second now, Griffin would be walking through the front door?—

“What the heck isthat?”

His voice came from directly behind me, startling me so much I nearly dropped my scraper.

I whirled around to find Griffin standing there, his gaze fixed on the bucket beside me with a look of complete disgust.

“It’s, uh… my gum bucket,” I said, suddenly feeling ridiculous as I gestured toward the half-filled pail.

He let out a short grunt of acknowledgment—more bemused than angry—before turning on his heel and heading behind the counter.

He opened the cash register and began counting bills, stacking them with a little more force than necessary.

I watched him, my stomach churning with nerves as I tried to read his mood.

I got to my feet and slid onto a stool across from him, hoping he’d say something. Anything.

After a moment, his hands slowed over the bills, but he still didn’t look at me. He was ignoring me, but that was fine.

More importantly, he didn’t seem angry, or like he was deciding whether to rip my throat out.

Drawing in a deep breath, I forced myself to speak. “Griffin, I… I’m really sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to break it. I know it meant a lot to you.”

Griffin’s gaze flicked up, his eyebrow raised slightly, as if silently asking how I knew.

“Noah told me,” I explained. “Well, I made him tell me—I mean, he didn’t say much,” I added quickly, guilt creeping up as Griffin’s jaw tightened for a moment. But then his shoulders relaxed a little.

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