Page 27 of Griffin

I crossed my arms, trying to shrug off the accusation.

"I was just making sure my employee could get his job done without distractions,” I answered.

"Right." His lips twitched, fighting back a smirk. "Didn’t know you cared that much about productivity."

There was a teasing lightness to his tone, and it only made me want him more.

I wanted to pull him aside, tell him exactly why I cared so much, let him feel the intensity he’d stirred up inside me.

But I held back. For now.

"Just get back to work, okay?" I muttered, turning back toward the bar.

As I walked away, I couldn’t help but glance back, catching his gaze lingering on me.

There was something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe even interest.

And as much as I wanted to stay guarded, to pretend this was just another job, the look in his eyes set my pulse racing all over again.

Back at the bar, I tried to focus on the orders, but my mind kept drifting back to him.

My wolf’s possessive urges hadn’t quieted down, not by a long shot, and if anything, they’d only gotten worse.

The idea of anyone else touching Michael, of him looking at someone else the way he’d looked at me, made me irrationally angry.

But mixed with that anger was this strange, undeniable pull, something that wasn’t just about wanting to protect him but went deeper, more intense.

I’d never felt this way before, not for anyone.

It left me confused, like I was walking on a tightrope between caution and instinct.

I didn’t want to scare him off or make him feel like I was crossing any lines.

But, damn it, I couldn’t shake this need to keep him close, to make sure he was safe, to be the only one he leaned on.

The bar had settled into its usual rhythm by the time Noah came up to me, guitar slung over his shoulder, a little worn from tonight’s set but grinning wide.

I poured him a drink, setting it in front of him just as he slid onto the barstool.

“Good crowd tonight,” he said, raising his glass before taking a sip.

His eyes were bright, like he was holding back something unsaid. Noah continued, “People seemed extra lively. And…what’s the deal with you and Michael?"

I shrugged, reaching for another glass to wipe down as if I hadn’t heard him right.

"Nothing’s going on,” I replied.

Noah raised a brow, setting his glass down slowly.

“Come on, Griff. I saw you practically growling at that shifter earlier. That wasn’t nothing.” His voice held a teasing edge, but his eyes were serious.

I wanted to tell him to butt out, to keep his nose in his own business, but this was Noah.

We didn’t hide things from each other—hadn’t needed to since we were kids. I could feel him waiting, his gaze almost drilling into me.

“Alright, fine,” I muttered, setting the glass down with a bit more force than intended. “I…might have feelings for Michael.”

Noah’s eyes widened, then a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

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