Page 6 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“What is it?” Nolan asked, glancing down at his shirt as if he expected a stain.

“What happened at the restaurant?” Reid finally asked, prepared for the way Nolan suddenly stiffened, as if just recalling whatever had happened was enough to set him on edge. “Can’t imagine anyone standing you up,” he continued.

Sure, it was a little bold, but it was true, so fuck it.

Nolan finished his pizza before he answered, and picked up another napkin. “Nothing so scandalous as that, I assure you,” he admitted, dabbing at the grease covering his hand. “I’m here for work, and the group I was supposed to meet for dinner canceled via a text message.”

“Oh, that—”

“But they were already seated inside. I saw them.”

Oh.

Fuck, that was just mean.

“Sounds like a bunch of assholes, if you ask me,” Reid grumbled, with half a mind to return to the restaurant himself.

“Oh, they most certainly are. Not news to me,” he said, and folded his plate in the same way Reid had. “Probably wouldn’t smart quite so much if my own father wasn’t with them.”

Reid schooled his expression, kept his eyes from widening. The guy’s own dad ditched him? Fuuuck.

“That’s really fucking shitty,” Reid finally said, eloquent as ever.

But it made Nolan’s lips curl, so he counted it as a victory. “Yes. Really fucking shitty,” he echoed.

Reid pulled his legs back into the bench, and stood up with a clap, the paper plate muffling the sound. “Since I introduced you to the best pizza ever, do you trust me yet?”

Nolan, the little shit, tilted his hand back and forth. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

He scoffed, and grabbed Nolan’s trash to dunk it in the bin nearby. “Well, how do you feel about ice cream?”

When he spun back around, he almost wheeled right into Nolan, and had to steady himself.

“Please, don’t… don’t pity hang out with me, or something. That’s worse than going back to the hotel alone.”

Crossing his arms, Reid tilted his chin up before saying, “Who said I pitied you? Maybe I pity them.”

Nolan rolled his eyes, but they eventually trailed back to him, a question glimmering in their depths. “And why’s that?”

“I don’t know, man, you seem pretty cool to me.”

Nolan snorted.

“Okay, so like, maybe you don’t know how to work your phone, which is— are you, like, seventy-five or something?”

“Seventy-six, actually,” Nolan interjected with a soft smile.

Reid kind of wanted to taste it.

“Wow. I have to say you look great for your age,” he drawled.

Did Nolan just blush? Why did that make Reid’s chest tight? Who was this man?

“It’s a family secret. I’d tell you, but…”

“You’d have to kill me?”

Nolan nodded solemnly. “At the very least.”