Page 64 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“You should be proud of it,” Nolan told him, pulling back to meet his gaze before settling properly in his seat. “This is wonderful, Reid.” His hand lingered on his knee.

“You haven’t even tried the food yet,” he argued, lips curling into a smile.

“You make people feel good, Reid. That’s what’s wonderful.”

“It’s just food,” he said with a shrug, pulling away.

Oh, uncomfortable with praise and seeking it all the same? Interesting.

Nolan nudged his shoulder. “It’s an experience. A memory. And you know it.”

“Yeah,” Reid agreed wistfully, tilting his glass back and forth. “I guess this place is pretty special,” he finally admitted, eyes lifting up to trace the walls of the room.

Nolan drew a pattern into his knee and hummed his agreement.

“The trick is to do simple meals, let them shine on their own. They might post a picture on Instagram, sure, and presentation is important, but the taste is what they’ll remember the most.”

In Nolan’s eyes, Reid glowed even brighter, enough to rival the sunset, as he explained his favorite dishes, brave enough to talk about them now that he wasn’t swaying Nolan’s decision on his entree. He spoke about their creation, the final decisions, and how proud he was for balancing the costs with the list price on the menu.

This place meant so much to Reid. It was his life, his passion.

The more Reid gushed and shared his love for this place, the brighter he shined, casting light on all the guilt hidden in the planes of Nolan’s chest.

How was Nolan supposed to take that all away from him?

He’d never hated his father, and himself, more than he did in that moment.

The mains arrived, and Nolan’s mouth watered at the smell of his risotto and scallops as it was set before him.

It really did look like some of the better dishes at his father’s favorite expensive places.

Seated on a creamy bed of risotto were five steaming, perfectly seared scallops, and the grilled vegetables lined up around it were vibrant.

“Reid, this is beautiful,” he hissed as the waiter turned away.

“You sound surprised,” Reid mused. “Why do you sound surprised?” He arched a brow in suspicion, and Nolan rolled his eyes.

“I knew you were impressive, but even this is beyond my expectations. It’s lovely.”

Those red cheeks reappeared again, and Nolan made it his mission to make this man blush as many times as he could. After all, it only took a compliment.

“It’s not like I cooked it, man, come on—“

“You created it and made the recipe, didn’t you? Taught the cooks the presentation?” Nolan already knew the answer, because the man had explained as such only moments ago.

He shrugged and finally nodded.

Nolan squeezed his knee again. “Accept the compliment, Reid.”

“If you’re just trying to get in my pants, it’s totally working,” he murmured, and Nolan laughed.

“You mean I was supposed to be trying?”

“Oh, shut up.” Reid said it softly, fondly, and Nolan finally removed his hand so they could get to eating.

Because after dinner, came—

“What about dessert?” Reid asked once they were finished, reaching over the flower in the tiny vase and grabbing the drinks and dessert menu.