Chapter Eleven Maren #3
Griffin glanced at Maren. “Everything okay?”
The question was casual.
Almost.
But Maren saw his eyes move over her face, checking for cracks.
This time, there were none.
Not from hurt, anyway.
She lifted her chin.
“Carter just said my work is good and asked for my portfolio.”
Griffin looked at Carter.
Then back at Maren.
Something like pride moved across his face before he could hide it.
It hit her harder than Carter’s compliment.
“That makes sense,” Griffin said.
Maren’s throat tightened.
Damn him.
Damn him for making it sound obvious.
Carter looked between them and wisely stepped back. “Send the link. Cooper, pretend you like me for ten minutes.”
“No.”
“Five?”
“Three.”
They walked away.
Maren stared after them, still holding her phone like it might float off.
Griffin stood beside her.
Quiet.
Letting the moment be hers.
That mattered.
He did not step in. Did not explain. Did not congratulate her like he had caused it. Did not turn the compliment into something between them.
He just stood there, solid and present, while she absorbed it.
Maren hated how much she liked that.
Finally, she looked at him. “Coach Doyle?”
“Did not hate it.”
“That is good?”
“With Doyle, it is a standing ovation.”
“What did he say?”
Griffin looked toward the tent, then back. “He said the safety segment showed leadership.”
Maren’s smile bloomed before she could stop it.
Not polished.
Not strategic.
Just happy.
“For you?”
“For the weekend.”
She gave him a look.
His jaw shifted.
“For me,” he admitted.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The clean part.”
His eyes softened.
He remembered.
Of course he remembered.
Maren’s phone buzzed with another notification, and this time, for once, she did not flinch.
It was not Paige.
It was not an anonymous critic.
It was Carter following the official account and then her professional page.
She stared.
Then laughed once, breathless.
“Okay,” she said.
Griffin smiled.
Actually smiled.
Small, but real.
Maren saw it.
He did not hide.
That made her heart do something extremely inconvenient.
Then Tyler sprinted toward them, waving the forbidden sign overhead.
TRUTH TOSS: FEELINGS WITH HANDLES
Behind him, Denise chased him in a golf cart at a speed that suggested personal history.
Maren lifted her phone on instinct and started filming.
Griffin sighed beside her.
“Do not encourage him.”
“Hayes,” she said, tracking Tyler as he dodged around the alumni tent, “this is art.”
“This is evidence.”
“It can be both.”
Tyler darted past, yelling, “THE PEOPLE NEED TRUTH!”
Denise followed, calm and deadly. “The people need you to return my tape.”
Coach Doyle stepped out of the tent, watched Tyler run past, then looked at Nate.
Nate said, “He came like that.”
Doyle nodded slowly. “They usually do.”
Maren laughed behind the camera.
Griffin looked at her, and she felt it.
Not the public look.
Not the almost-kiss heat.
Something better and worse.
Shared.
Like they were both inside the same joke now, the same day, the same fragile, ridiculous thing that was starting to feel less like content and more like a memory while it was happening.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, Paige.
Maren’s stomach tightened automatically.
She looked down.
PAIGE: Saw Carter Vale’s comment. That’s actually a good contact. You should follow up professionally and maybe separate that from the Griffin stuff before people get the wrong idea.
Maren stared at the text.
It should have hurt.
It did, a little.
But not as much as before.
Because Carter had seen the work.
Denise had seen it.
Griffin had seen it first.
Maren locked the phone without answering.
Griffin watched her.
She smiled, and this one did not feel like armor.
“Still want no lying tonight?” she asked.
His gaze held hers.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the lawn, where the bonfire pit sat cold and empty now, waiting for night, waiting for questions, waiting for whatever version of the truth they would be brave enough to say out loud.
Then she looked back at him.
“Because I think I am getting tired of letting other people decide what is embarrassing.”
Griffin’s expression changed.
Slowly.
Like she had placed something breakable in his hands and he understood exactly what it was worth.
Before he could answer, Tyler yelled from the far side of the lawn, “TRUTH TOSS TONIGHT! brING QUESTIONS, COURAGE, AND DIGESTIVE SAFETY!”
Ava screamed, “Do not mention digestion near the snack shack!”
Maren laughed.
Griffin did too.
Not almost.
Not spiritually.
A real laugh, low and surprised and gone too fast, but real.
Maren turned to him, delighted.
“There,” she said softly.
He looked at her.
This time, he did not deny it.
This time, under the bright afternoon sun with the lake glittering behind him and chaos sprinting across the lawn in front of him, Griffin Hayes let the smile stay.
Only for her.
And Maren realized, with a terrifying little drop in her stomach, that tonight’s Truth Toss might not be dangerous because people would ask whether this was real.
It might be dangerous because she was starting to know the answer.