Page 80 of Griffin

I forced a smile, aware of the crowd around us watching the interaction. “I’m just here as a fan this year.”

Shawn’s grin widened, his voice taking on that familiar teasing edge that made my stomach churn. “Oh, I see. So you’ve officially passed the crown, huh? Guess that makes me the top streamer now.” He winked. “Must’ve been because you changed managers.”

I tried pushing him away, but Shawn leaned in closer, lowering his voice just enough to sound conspiratorial but still loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “Where is Todd, anyway? Such a waste. Maybe I’ll hire him, get him to work for someone at the top again.”

The smug grin on his face was wiped clean when Griffin appeared at my side. The glare he directed at Shawn was ice cold.

“Todd’s gone,” Griffin said flatly.

The tone of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t just an answer—it was a statement, blunt and final.

For one second, I imagined how anyone overhearing this might take it—how they might think Griffin meant Todd wasgonegone.

I elbowed him sharply, forcing a nervous laugh to cover the tension. “All right, we’ve got to get going. Come on, Griffin.”

Ignoring Shawn’s protests and calls behind us, I grabbed Griffin’s arm and pulled him along.

“Behave,” I muttered under my breath once we were a safe distance away.

“What? I barely talked to the guy,” Griffin said, raising an eyebrow like he was completely innocent.

I glanced at him—his broad shoulders, the solid build, and the no-nonsense way he carried himself. He didn’t have to say much to make people take him seriously.

“You didn’t have to,” I said, shaking my head. “Your body language did all the talking.”

Griffin gave me a look I couldn’t quite read, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “Noted.”

“Anyway,” I said, looking off to the side, “just stay here for a moment.”

I gestured toward a booth for a new sports game. Before Griffin could protest, I added, “And don’t talk to anyone.”

When I came back a few minutes later, a bag in hand, Griffin was exactly where I’d left him, arms crossed and eyes scanning the crowd like he was on guard duty.

“Good boy,” I said with a smirk.

Griffin rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

I handed the paper bag to Griffin, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the nervous energy buzzing under my skin.

“What’s this?” Griffin asked, raising an eyebrow as he took the bag.

“You’ll see.” I gestured for him to open it.

He pulled out a box wrapped carefully in bubble wrap. His brows furrowed as he set the bag aside and unwrapped it, his movements slower than usual.

When the contents were finally revealed, he froze. Inside the box was a baseball encased in pristine glass, the signature bold and clear on the surface.

For a moment, Griffin just stared at it, and the silence made my palms sweat.

“I had to call in a few favors,” I said quickly, unable to take the quiet. “I know I should’ve asked you first if it was okay, but I... I thought—well, I hoped you wouldn’t mind.” I forced a smile that probably didn’t look convincing. “I knew a guy who worked on a baseball game and managed to get in touch with the player who originally signed it. He signed over the smudge after it was professionally cleaned. And I got a new case for it.”

Griffin’s fingers hovered over the glass for a second, then retreated. He still hadn’t said a word.

“I did ask Noah if it was okay,” I added, hoping that might help. “He said it was fine with him.”

Though, now that I thought about it, Noah had looked pretty pale and distracted when I asked.

He’d been skimming through the guest list for the upcoming summit, muttering someone’s name, so I wasn’t entirely sure he’d even processed what I was saying.

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