Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Was he?
Holy shit, was he here?
I pinned my stare to Abel, willing myself not to look any other way, and felt dread creeping up my spine.
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “Are you telling me that the Griffin you think I should talk to here tonight is the same Griffin who works at Adam’s restaurant?”
He lifted his brows and answered as if it was obvious. “Uh, yeah? How has that not been fucking clear?”
Oh my God.
No.
No, no, no, no, no, no!
“Because we’ve barely talked about him!” I whisper-shouted. “He’s been gone for a whole year, and all you said—allegedly—was that he’s a Daddy, which I clearly interpreted as you calling him hot.”
Abel nodded pensively. “You may have a point.”
I may? Oh, I fucking may?
Kill me!
I let out a shaky breath as a flurry of nerves shot through me and frazzled every fiber of my body. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Not only was I gonna have to work with Griffin again, he was also kinky? That grumpy piece of fuckknuckle who was always so uptight and rude?
I had only one other question, and I picked up my drink and braced myself.
“Is he here tonight?”
Abel made a yikes-face and nodded hesitantly. “He’s in the booth behind us with Mister Jameson and Justin.”
Fuck my life.
I nodded once in acknowledgment, then chugged my margarita.
In the booth behind ours…meaning, he could probably see me. If not now, then earlier when I’d arrived—except…I had spotted both Mister Jameson and Justin, so Griffin had to be across from them. Chances were he’d seen me.
I hissed and set down my glass, then promptly rubbed my forehead.
Abel winced and put a hand on my shoulder. “Brain freeze?”
I nodded. It hurt! My eyes became glassy, and the pain welled up in waves inside my head until it slowly faded.
“I’m really sorry, Tracy. I should’ve communicated better about Mister Griffin.”
I shook my head, having calmed down some. “It’s not your fault. Hell, he would’ve been perfect if he weren’t such a tool. I had the biggest crush on him when we first met. Then he opened his mouth, and here we are.”
He let out a surprised snicker, then made a face and shook his head too. “It’s strange to hear. He’s been so nice to me—and he’s close with Daddy.”
“Yeah, I already figured I was the problem,” I muttered. It still stung—I couldn’t deny that. “He’s close to Adam and Alessia too.”
“Well…could there be some misunderstanding?” he asked curiously.
No way. “I’ve been nothing but nice to him—at least the first few months. After that, I asked if I’d done or said something to offend him, and he brushed me off. So I got snarky and didn’t take his shit, but I never initiated any trouble.”
Abel hummed, thinking cap clearly on, and sipped his drink.
I blew out a breath, considering my next move. In a small community like this one, it was impossible to steer clear of a specific person. Even more so if we had kinks in common—and that was a mindfuck. He was a primal Daddy Dom? Really?
Just my damn luck.
Glancing toward Mister Madigan and Mister Dave, I guesstimated I had about five minutes before they wanted to discuss more event plans. For now, they were drinking beer and chatting with a couple other Doms.
A time frame was good to have. Could I knock out a quick talk with Griffin in five or so minutes? We just needed to reach an agreement to coexist without making each other miserable.
We’d have to do the same at work anyway.
“Wish me luck.” I finished my margarita in two swallows, then wiped my mouth. “I’m gonna see if Griffin and I can sign a peace treaty.”
Abel looked pleasantly surprised. “Okay, I’m rooting for you! That’s great.”
Yeah, we’d see.
I slid out of the booth and turned around, and then my breath got caught in my throat. Fuck. Fuck, fuck. He was watching me. Unreadable expression, jaw set. He wasn’t happy; I knew that much. I bet he hadn’t expected to see me here tonight.
Right back at you, buddy.
Man, it infuriated me that he was so devastatingly hot. All rugged, easily six foot four, devil-may-care…but I’d seen kindness in his green eyes too. He had a soft spot for Alessia and her and Adam’s son.
Why couldn’t he like me?
I swallowed a burst of anxiousness that tightened a noose around my neck, and I forced my legs to function. I had to get this over with.
Breathe.
I tried.
My walk toward doom was too short. Before I knew it, I was in front of their table, and Justin and his Owner fell silent and glanced up at me.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to make eye contact with Griffin. “Can we talk outside?”
He took a swig of his beer, which lasted about four seconds but felt like an eternity, before he nodded with a dip of his chin and set down his bottle.