Page 54 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“Absolutely,” Nolan agreed, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted every piece of Reid he could get, and maybe it was selfish, but… he was going to let himself have this, cherish it.

“Wanna do it again?”

Reid snorted, pulled back with a wild gaze.

“You’re insane,” he responded.

Nolan felt a smile curl his lips. “And you like it.”

Reid

After they’d tucked themselves away and acted as the other’s mirror, trying to lay their hair back down, they slipped out of the closet one at a time, with no one the wiser.

Or so Reid thought.

His phone buzzed as he came to the end of the hallway, and he pulled it out, a message lighting up his screen.

I’m begging you not to fuck this up for me. You’ll bring me something, right?

Reid’s head snapped up, scanning the long hallway, searching for—John. His grumpy face glared back at him from the opposite end of the hallway, and Reid tried to smooth his hair into order before he gave up. Maybe they could’ve been a little less obvious about it.

Would it kill you to let me have a little fun? he messaged back, staring across the room as John pulled his phone out to read his response. I’m doing what you said, spending time with him.

A little fun? John’s message read, before the typing bubble appeared and disappeared and appeared again. You floated out of that closet on cloud nine. Are you doing research or just getting your dick sucked?

Reid’s heart gave a desperate thump. Does it matter? this was ur fuckin idea! Reid’s texts got lazier the more his annoyance festered.

John rolled his eyes at the device and shook his head as he replied. Reid was scowling at his phone when the message arrived. I guess it doesn’t matter what avenue you take, as long as we arrive at the same destination. Just don’t let me down, man. I need this job.

Reid huffed, letting his eyes close for a brief second before he responded. I know. I’ll find something. We have all week.

That’s what he and Nolan kept saying. But they didn’t really have all week, did they? They had until Reid found something, reported it to John, and ran a story.

Because surely once the story—Reid would find one—was published, and Nolan read it, he’d know it was Reid. He’d know what Reid had done and then that was it for them, he knew it. And he hated it. Maybe even hated himself a little for going through with this, but…

With a blink, he was on Nolan’s chest again, fingers carding through his hair while his eyes got sticky with sleep, and with another blink he was here. In reality, where he was supposed to betray Nolan.

Maybe they didn’t have all week. Maybe they didn’t have long at all, but Reid would have to collect and save and lock away all the sweet little pieces of Nolan he could savor, and then let him go when he inevitably left.

He walked away from John, thoughts racing and the taste of Nolan still on his tongue.

The rest of the conference that day was boring in comparison. But his little interruption had made the rounds. Familiar faces came up to greet him, to ask him questions, to share in his frustration about the hotel digging up the community’s roots. His chest was tight with emotion. The more people he talked to, the heavier he was weighed down.

Not only was he trying to save his own business, he was trying to send a message. A message that all these people, proverbial strangers, stood by: that nothing was worth the community they’d built here, that they’d stick together and weather this one out.

But they didn’t know about the pile of unpaid bills on Reid’s desk, didn’t know how long he’d been sacrificing his own pay so he could keep his employees.

He bit down on the anger of the unfairness. Their support meant something, no matter what form it came in.

So as he spent the day fielding questions and handing out cards and telling people about the restaurant and inviting them to experience it for themselves, he smiled and put on his most welcoming expression. Even to the ones in suits with turned-up noses.

He only looked for Nolan every single fucking chance he got, but the man proved to be elusive up until the very last speaker was finished.

He checked his phone repeatedly, unsure if he should head home, or to his restaurant to check on everyone, or if he should give in and head back to Nolan’s hotel, like he really wanted.

Fuck it.

It was a short, hot walk to the hotel down the street, and once the blissful air conditioning welcomed him in, he headed toward the bank of elevators, tapping his foot as he waited.