CHAPTER THREE #2
Sara suggests we grab cocktails at High-5s after this, to which of course we all agree.
I’m ready for this; I prepared for this.
We walk with linked arms to High-5’s a couple blocks over, the night air feeling so refreshing and invigorating that I temporarily forget I’m unemployed, homeless, and dumped.
Mission: accomplished.
Except for one tiny piece of the puzzle tonight, which is Griffin.
I haven’t heard from him, which makes my increasingly tipsy heart sad.
As Sara orders a round of drinks at High-5’s, I wonder if his offer to connect during my time in Bayshore might have just been a nicety.
I’m ruminating on the possibility that all those sparks I felt yesterday had been one-sided.
Maybe I’d simply been dazzled by his biceps and his powerful, athletic frame.
He probably saw me spill that drink on myself and was just counting the seconds until he could run away.
After all, that’s the gist of what I heard from Jake during our breakup. “You need to get your shit together, Casey.” The worst parting words from a man I’d spent three years pouring love and attention into.
I clink my freshly arrived mint julep with the girls, smiling brightly and trying not to think about any of that. I came here to decompress, not wallow. The mint julep packs a punch, though, and Roxie soon confirms that the bartender poured us extra.
Oh, great. Now I’m really going to be drunk.
“I’m so glad we did this tonight,” Roxie says after a demure sip.
“We have you until…when? Mid-August?” Sara asks. We spent most of dinner catching up on their career and relationship developments. I’ve tried not to share too much about what’s recently imploded for me, but they know I’m single along with my recent layoff.
“Just until my sister’s wedding. My lease begins August first in Chicago, and I’ve already paid the deposit and first and last month’s rent, but I’ll formally move in closer to mid-August after the wedding.”
“And you couldn’t scoot in there a little sooner?” Julie asks.
“No,” I say with a sigh, the warmth of the heavy-handed cocktail winding through me.
I need to be good about drinking water tonight, but it’s hard to remember when there’s so much conversation and the tasty cocktails are flowing.
“I’ll be moving in with one of my Chicago besties.
But she’s got a roommate whose lease runs through July. ”
“Well I’m glad that lease is there because it means we’ve got you for the summer,” Roxie says with a grin.
“It’ll be nice to spend some time in Bayshore,” I say, though I’m not sure I fully feel it.
Truthfully, I’m worried about my parents and my sister undercutting me at every turn.
Of being smashed into the box labeled Small & Useless.
But I also want to turn over a new leaf.
A new chapter, really. Hell, I’d start a whole new book at this point–some of my personal plot developments have me wanting to DNF and find a different genre.
“Ladies.” The bartender approaches us with a cocktail in each hand. It looks fruity, fancy, and utterly delicious. He slides one toward me, then another to Roxie, and then grabs two more for Julie and Sara. “These were sent from over there.”
Surprise trickles through me as I exchange shocked looks with my friends. I turn to follow the nod of the bartender, and I recognize the handsome smile before my tipsy brain even puts two and two together.
Relief washes through me.
It’s Griffin.
He’s here.
“You guys bought us a round?” Roxie shouts across the bar. Griffin and another high school friend of ours, Branson, are smiling proudly as they saunter our way. I can’t rip my eyes off Griffin as he comes near, and I swear he holds my gaze the entire time.
“Hope we didn’t miss the fun,” Griffin says, cocking a grin.
He looks freshly showered and is wearing a sleeveless tee that allows glimpses of those cover model-grade pecs and washboard abs I felt yesterday through his shirt.
To top things off, he’s wearing a backward ballcap, which leaves a few unruly waves curling outward at the back.
My entire body clenches with need as I gobble up the delicious details of this man.
High School Casey could never have fathomed that Griffin Keegan was capable of getting even hotter.
“We’re just getting started,” Julie promises, though I’m not entirely sure I agree with that. I feel like I’m just shy of finishing, but maybe I’m a lightweight.
“How did you know we were here?” I finally ask, unable to stop grinning as I look up at him.
“Well, since somebody wouldn’t answer her texts, I asked my buddy Zane if he’d seen you guys.” Griffin tips his head toward the bartender, who gives a tiny salute in response. “I figured you’d all eventually migrate here.” It takes a moment for his meaning to sink in.
“Wait, you texted me?” I ask.
“Like three times,” he says with a laugh. “Did you forget how to use your phone?” He pauses, looking down at the round of drinks. “Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten you another drink.”
I’m fumbling to pull out my phone, absolutely bamboozled about this turn of events.
I’d been waiting on pins and needles for a response from this man for hours.
And here he’d sent me three messages? It’s the nightmare scenario from every high school rom-com.
When I pull out my phone, I see nothing amiss.
“Is there no cell phone service in downtown Bayshore?” I ask to anyone who’s listening.
Griffin leans over, his deep voice closer to my ear. “It’s in airplane mode, Casey.”
I suck in a sharp breath. Goosepimples flare across my forearms, and I can feel how close he is. Heat is pouring off him, and I swear my thighs could start quivering if he whispered “airplane mode” again right now.
“Ope,” I say with a little laugh, tucking it back into my purse. Absolutely every cell of my being is focused on two things: Griffin’s nearness and trying to play it cool. “Not sure how that happened.”
His grin turns mischievous. “You don’t want your boyfriend calling tonight, huh?”
The comment roots me to my spot. I’m not sure how to respond, other than blurting that I’m perfectly single and ready to mingle.
Luckily, Roxie does the heavy lifting for me when she leans over and says, “Boyfriend? Casey is free as a bird.”
Unfiltered interest flashes across Griffin’s handsome face. A brow lifts as he says, “Wow. I must have missed a lot by not going to dinner.”
“No, no,” I say, waving a hand in the air between us as I slurp down the rest of my mint julep.
I might not know how to keep my phone out of airplane mode, but I know why Griffin is confused.
My sister openly talked about Jake attending the wedding in front of him yesterday.
“I’ve been single for a while, I just, uh… haven’t told Claire yet.”
Griffin rubs his hand along the scruff of his jaw as he yanks out the stool next to me at the bar and sits down. “And why would that be?”
I do the dismissive hand wave thingy again, reaching for the new drink Griffin bought. I slurp loudly instead of answering him, savoring the vodka tang and the fresh strawberries mixed in. When I set it down, I let out a happy sigh. “God, that was tasty. It’s strawberry season, isn’t it?”
“You know it.” Griffin lifts his drink in response, which is a glass of dark amber beer. He takes a sip. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“True. I did not.” I sip again at the drink, and in the back of my mind, I know this is a bad idea. I’ve already had enough. But it’s so yummy. It’s so fruity. And I’m so nervous next to Griffin’s heat and strength.
“Who’s ready for pool?” Julie squeezes my arm as she gets up from her barstool. Roxie and Sara follow suit, and Branson is already halfway across the bar to the pool table.
“Not me,” I mumble, propping my head against my hand. The pool table looks so far away, and this stool is so comfy next to Griffin.
Griffin cocks his head, looks me up and down. Branson starts calling for Griffin, but he just turns around and shakes his head. “We’re not playing,” he calls out, which makes a silly grin sprout on my face.
“What’s so funny?” Griffin asks before sipping his beer.
I don’t know how to explain the swell of emotion in my chest. How happy I am that he’s here. How right it feels to gaze upon him. The way his presence has taken this evening from good to perfect. I could curl up in his lap and stay there until tomorrow. In fact, I want to.
But none of those things seems like “just catching up with old friends” territory. They betray the fact that I would do dirty things to those washboard abs of his. Not to mention those biceps, and those perfect, kissable lips…
“I’m just having a great time,” I finally say with a sigh.
Because it’s true. I’m with Griffin, and for one blessed night, I’m not thinking about what a mess I am.