Page 9 of How Not to Date a Griffin

Jesus fucking christ.

“There’s not much that’s interesting about me,” Nolan began.

Reid highly doubted that.

“Just a business guy stuck in a career he never picked and hates, but is chicken to do anything about it.”

“See, that is interesting, believe it or not.” Reid wanted to ask Nolan more, but something in his expression made him choke it back.

“I don’t want to talk about work. I want to think about anything but work, actually. Tell me about yourself.”

“Where do you want me to start?” Reid asked, strangely happy to indulge in whatever Nolan wanted.

“From the beginning?” he asked.

Reid winced. “Oof. Well. It’s going to sound a little strange, but my upbringing was probably different than what you grew up around. What with being a griffin and all.”

Nolan’s eyebrows arched in interest, gaze intent to show he was listening. Unfortunately he was still making sweet, tender love to the fucking ice cream cone, and Reid had to remind himself what the hell he was talking about.

“We had to hide what we were, obviously, because this was all before the Big Reveal. And being a kid makes that a little harder, y’know, to control the shift and everything. So I was homeschooled for a while. Like I said, born and raised here. Dad was shit. Mom was awesome.” He grimaced and chewed on the bubblegum piece that was too hard to be safe, but still a sweet treat all the same. “That ice cream place is actually where we used to go when I was little. Bubblegum was my favorite, and my mom always said I was going to crack a tooth one day.” He winked. “Haven’t yet.”

“Was the Big Reveal a relief for you, then?” Nolan asked, lowering his ice cream cone.

“Yeah, kinda. I was used to hiding my griffin by that point, but it is nice to see everyone be more open about it. Like, that pizza place? The ice cream shop? All run by Others.”

“Always thought that was kind of a stupid name. Rather exclusive.”

Reid frowned. “Yeah. The media ran with it and it stuck. But whatever. Better than, like, freaks or weirdos.”

“Oh, I hope no one ever called you that,” Nolan said with an angry twitch to his brow. “That’s not nice.”

Reid laughed and tried not to let the bitterness seep in. “Newsflash, man, the world isn’t all that nice to Others. Though it’s getting better, bit by bit.”

“How so?”

“Well, like the app. So.” He scrubbed a hand over his thigh, suddenly nervous. “Even though it's a service position, it’s integrating us into society. The insurance was stupidly complicated, but we finally figured out the fine print and now it’s, like, a normal thing.”

“Normal?” Nolan teased. “I’m pretty sure our picture is floating around on the internet somewhere. The crowd seemed rather scandalized.”

“Hey, any publicity is good publicity.”

“I’m… not sure that’s true,” Nolan argued.

“Aw, come on. You just gotta spin it right.” Holding up his hands, ice cream cone included, he framed the shape of a square. “Inventive new travel medium spotted in the city.”

Nolan chuckled, and copied the square with his own hands. “Idiot falls off griffin to his death.”

Reid gasped. “I would never let one of my patrons fall. But that is what the majority of the fine print is for,” he grumbled. “Accepting the ride makes you liable for any injuries, et cetera.”

“The ladder trick with the saddle was pretty nifty, though!” Nolan suddenly said, as if to make Reid feel better.

“Seemed like you needed the help,” Reid teased, if only to watch his cheeks flush.

They went rosy pink, and it was like a reward all for him.

Silence settled again, and it dawned on Reid that getting ice cream had been a terrible idea.

They had to be quick, because the humid air was melting it faster than they could eat. Which meant Nolan was going at his ice cream with a fervor, licking around the edges to keep it from melting down the cone and onto his hand. Then, of course, he’d have to even it out by licking a circle around the top.