Page 8 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“Coast is clear,” I said quietly and stepped back out of the aisle.
A moment later, Gryff appeared around the corner of the stacks, his hair disheveled and his face flushed. Behind him, Xander looked like he'd rather disappear into the floor, his expression a mix of panic and embarrassment.
“Shit,” Xander muttered, running his hands through his hair. “This is exactly what I was worried about.”
“No one saw anything,” I assured him. “But you might want to go a bit beyond the first row of shelves next time.”
“There isn't going to be a next time.” Xander's voice came out flat.
Something in his tone made my stomach drop. I glanced at Gryff, who was looking at Xander with an expression I recognized, the carefully neutral face he made when he was trying not to let his emotions show.
“Xan,” Gryff said quietly.
“I can't do this, man.” Xander's voice was strained, but there was something almost cold about it, like he was delivering a business decision. “This was a mistake.”
“Because someone almost caught us?”
“Because someone did.” Xander looked at me, and I could see the panic at his disco.
“No one else will know until you're ready,” Gryff said. “We can avoid?—“
“Can we? Really?” Xander's laugh had an edge to it. “You're Gryffen goddamn Kingman. People pay attention to everything you do. Your family's practically royalty around here. And I can't afford to be part of your... ball bunny club.”
Gryff flinched at that. “What the hell, Rosemount?”
Xander was straightening his shirt now, his whole demeanor shifting to something more distant. “Look, this was fun. But let's not pretend it was ever going anywhere.”
The casual cruelty in his voice made my hands clench into fists. I could see exactly what he was doing. Trying to hurt Gryff enough that he wouldn't fight the breakup, wouldn't try to change his mind.
“So this was what?” Gryff waved a finger between the two of them, his voice carefully controlled. “Just a way to scratch an itch?”
“Pretty much.” Xander shrugged like they were discussing the weather. “I need to think about my career, my image. I can't be associated with... complications.”
“Right,” Gryff said, and I could see him rebuilding his walls in real time, his expression going carefully blank.
“Glad you understand.”
Xander was already moving toward the exit, like this conversation was just an inconvenience he needed to get through. He paused at the end of the stacks, not quite looking back.
“Oh, and Fraser?” He glanced over his shoulder but didn't actually meet my eyes. “Keep this between us, huh? Gryff's reputation can probably handle some... rumors, but I've got a lot more to lose.”
The dismissive way he said it, like Gryff's feelings were completely irrelevant, made my blood boil. But before I could say anything, Xan was gone, his footsteps echoing down the stairs.
We stood there in silence for a long moment, listening to the sound fade. When it was completely quiet, Gryff slumped against the bookshelf and closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers between his eyes.
“Well.” He sighed. “That was.... fun.”
Yeah, if fun was a bloody true crime documentary and this was the crime scene. “Want to get out of here?”
Gryff opened his eyes and looked at me, really looked at me, then grabbed me into a tight one-armed hug.
“Yeah,” he said. “Let's go.”
We didn't talk until we were outside, walking across campus in the general direction of the quad. The late afternoon sun was still warm on our faces, but the earlier magic of baby goat yoga felt like it had happened in another lifetime.
“So,” Gryff said eventually. “That happened.”
“Yep.”
