Page 18 of A Baby for the Firefighter
I glanced over at my cousin to see if the mention of singing disturbed him. As he told me, Ron hadlovedto sing in the shower. But Shane just stared really hard at his menu.
I looked at mine as well, realizing that neither of us was with the man we truly wanted to be with tonight. We just had to make the best of it. I put the menu aside before I could wonder what Griff would order for dessert and whether he’d like it better than what I made for him.
What was he up to tonight, anyway?
8
Griffin
It was Saturday night, and the bottle of wine was almost gone. I lay on my couch and stared at the ceiling, really wishing I'd bought something stronger. Or just more wine. I glanced at the clock above the living room door and considered going out again. It seemed like a good idea. Go out, have a drink, or maybe one hundred of them. Because I was still thinking about Dean and his damn date, so I clearly hadn't had enough to drink yet.
Maybe I would feel better if I got some fresh air—on the way to the liquor store. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Anything that kept me from running circles in my head sounded like a good idea.
I got off the couch with great effort, threw on a light jacket—inside out as I later noticed—grabbed my keys and wallet and went out the door.
It was still early evening and in the sunny weather, lots of people were out and about. Some of them shot me funny looks as I walked by, but that didn't bother me. I was used to people looking at me in strange ways ever since my brother had become the target of the town's gossip back when Jake was born.
The rumors had soared when people learned who Jake's father was last year, but eventually, the public had lost interest in a secret that wasn't a secret anymore.
“You again?” Frankie, the owner of the town's liquor store, asked when I walked in. He was a middle-aged, sometimes grumpy but mostly friendly man. When I'd come here on my 21st birthday, he'd given me a bottle of beer for free. And then he’d refused to sell me any more when I was so drunk that I could hardly tell my hands from my feet since I needed both of them to walk.
Good memories.
“I need another bottle of that stuff you sold me earlier,” I told Frankie.
“Are you sure you do?” He eyed me skeptically.
“C'mon, man. I need this right now.”
“You look like you're plenty drunk already.”
“I'm not,” I insisted. Okay, maybe I was a little drunk. But how else was I supposed to cope with the situation I was in? My best friend was back in town, he was hot as hell, and he was dating some other omega because I didn't have the guts to be with him that way.
He probably didn't even know how much I wanted him.
“Tell me honestly, is something troubling you, son?”
“Lifesucks,” I said with emphasis.
“Yeah, life can suck alright.” He glanced at the liquor cabinet behind him, then back at me. “Tell you what, you take a nice long walk, and then if you still feel like you need another drink, I'll fix you up. How's that sound to you?”
“Okay.” Maybe a walk would help. Or maybe it wouldn't, but then I could still come here. That sounded fair, and I would have liked for something to be fair just then. “See you later,” I said to Frankie, and then I walked out the door again.
The sun had sunk a bit in the sky and I figured it would set soon. It was almost golden hour. I loved this time of the day. It made for beautiful pictures, and I found some solace in the fact that the sun continued to set every day. Even the shitty ones, like this particular Saturday.
I decided to head up to the hill just outside town to watch the sunset from there.
But on the way there, I walked past an Italian restaurant, and, thinking nothing of it, I looked through the window—only to see Dean and his cousin and their goddamn dates.
All thoughts of sunsets fled from my mind. All I wanted to do anymore was to waltz in there and drag Dean out with me. To this day, I'm amazed at the self-control I displayed by not doing that.
Sadly, I can't claim that I had myself so tightly under control for the rest of the night.
As if on autopilot, my feet took me to the foot of the hill, but then I couldn't go on. I didn't want to watch the sunset anymore. I just wanted... I wanted to be with Dean. As stupid as that was. And I can only guess that it was the liquid courage flowing through my veins that made me abandon reason and take out my cell phone. I dialed Dean's number.
It took him a little while to answer the call. He was probably just too engrossed in what his stupid date was saying.
I bit my teeth together. And then I heard a clicking in the line and Dean's deep, masculine voice.
