Page 40 of Griffin

“Thanks,” I muttered, trying to hide my face behind a sip of water.

“You’ve got a voice for it,” he added, his tone completely sincere. “Sometimes I listen to your streams before I fall asleep.”

I nearly choked on the water, eyes darting to him.

His expression didn’t waver—steady, open, and completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just said something that sent my pulse skidding across the room and slamming into the wall.

For a moment, I could only stare at him, expecting to feel… something.

Maybe a flicker of unease, that familiar wariness that usually crept in when someone admitted to being a fan.

But with Griffin, there was none of that. Instead, his blunt honesty somehow put me at ease, like there was nothing more to read into.

No hidden motives, no performative charm—just Griffin being… Griffin.

It was disarming, the way he could say something so straightforward and leave me scrambling to catch up.

“Seriously?” I finally managed, aiming for a light tone to cover the way my heart had started to trip over itself.

He glanced up, his lips twitching like he knew exactly what effect he had. “What? You don’t think I’d make a good fan?”

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “It’s just not what I expected, that’s all.”

“Guess I like surprising you then,” he said, and for once, his smirk softened into something closer to a smile.

Chapter 10

Griffin

Ifelt incredibly warm as we left the diner.

Michael walked beside me, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said, breaking the silence as we approached my truck. “Next one’s on me.”

Michael cocked his head, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and teasing.

“You’re presuming there’s going to be a second date?” Michael asked.

I paused mid-step, furrowing my brows to gauge whether he was joking or not.

But before I could respond, his laughter cut through the night, low and smooth. That laugh—damn it—sent a rush of heat through me.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he added with a grin that made my wolf stir possessively.

Without thinking, I opened the truck door for him, a gesture that felt instinctive and right.

The faint flush that spread across Michael’s neck and cheeks was a reward in itself, and before I could even consider teasing him about it, he surprised me.

Michael grabbed a fistful of my shirt, his fingers curling into the fabric with intent.

Then he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that started sweet but quickly burned hotter.

I rested my hands on his waist, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

His lips were soft, but the way he moved against me was anything but hesitant. There was hunger there, raw and unrestrained.

My wolf growled low in my chest, a sound that was more protective than aggressive, and Michael didn’t flinch.

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