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“I could eat a slice of pizza.”
He lifts his chin toward the hallway. “Is it still dead out there?”
“Pretty much,” Griff says.
I hadn’t realized Griff was still behind me. I turn and he’s leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on me. Why does such a casual pose make him look so…climb-able?
“Grab a table. I’ll bring something out for you,” Remy says to me.
“Thanks.” I slide past Griff—who doesn’t bother moving an inch out of my way. Electricity skitters over my shoulder as it brushes against his arm.
Anderson’s busy with one of the guys at the bar. I wave but keep walking to my favorite booth in the back corner.
I pull my phone out of my purse and aimlessly scroll through Instagram, searching for a new nail or makeup look to try this weekend.
A text pops up.
Torch: You home this weekend?
My thumb hovers over the message, unsure of how I want to reply.
“Order up.” A thin crust cheesy pizza on a round metal pan slides onto the table in front of me. I glance up into Griff’s stoic eyes. He sets a plate and a roll of silverware on the table.
“Thanks.” I drop my gaze to the eight wide slices. “I can’t eat that whole thing by myself.”
He pulls out the chair on the other side of the table and settles his big frame into it. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I didn’t…where’s Remy?”
“In the back.”
I slide out of the booth. “I’m going to grab a soda.” Why am I being so weird? We’ve split lots of pizzas together over the years. Taking a breath, I rest my hand on his shoulder. “What do you want?”
He places his hand over mine and stares at me like he’s reciting every beverage the bar carries, but finally says, “Whatever you’re having.”
I hurry behind the bar, pull a pitcher of root beer, grab two cups, and return to the table.
He nods at me to pick the first piece. Too nervous to eat now, I pull the one closest to me onto my plate.
Griff doesn’t seem to share my nerves. He grabs a slice, folds it in half and takes a big bite.
I pour the soda into our cups and hand him one.
“Thanks.” He takes a quick sip. “How was the rest of your week?”
“Good. Busy. You?” I take my fork and knife and cut the big slice in half, then take a small bite.
“Took a few shifts at Jerry’s. Felt good to get back to normal.”
Another place I’ll never be able to show my face again. It’d been hard enough when I went to see Jerry and apologized for the mess I made at his shop. “That’s good,” I mumble.
“I’m glad you unblocked me,” he says.
My gaze flits around the bar. Anywhere but at Griff.
“I…I’m sorry.” I should’ve done it sooner.
“I didn’t want to bug you if you were busy, so…” He takes a bite of pizza without finishing the thought.
