Page 10 of The Rookie

I grin. “And you weren’t exactly whispering.”

She glares at me, her hazel eyes sharp enough to cut glass. “It’s none of your business.”

“True,” I reply with a shrug. “But I’m curious. What’s his deal?”

She folds her arms, clearly done with this conversation. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” I admit. “Just wondering what kind of guy actually puts up with you.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a second, I think she’s about to throw something at me. Instead, she exhales sharply and climbs into her bed, then takes out her journal.

I decide to give her space and not push, though now I’m infinitely curious what she’s writing about.

There’s a beat of silence, and then she says, “What about you?”

I glance over. “What about me?”

“You haven’t had a girlfriend since that girl you dated in high school. Why not?”

“Who cares? Just decided not to date in college…yet.”

She gives me a look. “Cassie says you’re...casual.”

I bark a laugh. “Casual is a polite way to put it.”

She frowns. “Why?”

I sit up, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t know. Guess I’ve never met someone who made me want to commit. Or maybe I have. And she just didn’t like me back.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I pause, letting the moment stretch just long enough to make her uncomfortable. Then I sigh dramatically, really using that half semester of drama class I took freshmen year to act this one out. “Fine. If you must know, there’s this girl.”

Her eyes narrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “She’s... incredible. Beautiful. Smart. Funny in this sarcastic, infuriating way.”

She blinks, clearly caught off guard. “And...?”

“And it’s completely unrequited,” I say, my voice softening.

For a second, she just stares at me.

“Who is she?” she asks cautiously.

“Well,” I say, meeting her eyes, “she’s got these hazel eyes that can cut through steel. And this way of twisting her hair when she’s stressed...”

Her face pales, her mouth going tight.

“And this body,” I cut her off, my voice dropping to something almost husky, “that could bring a man to his knees without even trying. Don’t get me started on the way her smile messes with my head. It’s dangerous, really.”

Her cheeks flush, her composure cracking at the edges. “Griffin.”

“She’s my sister’s best friend,” I say, quieter now, like it’s a confession too heavy to say any louder. “She drives me absolutely insane, but I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Her mouth falls open, and she stares at me like I’ve just confessed to a felony.

“Griffin.” Her voice is sharp enough to slice through me.

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