I slapped matching sympathy on my face and smiled sadly up at him. “Are you gonna be hanging with Orson today?”
“Yeah. Porter and I are going to take him out to a late lunch, grab some beers, play hooky from work. He needs it.”
“That’s real good of you, Dad.” I listened for signs of my lie and detected none. Maybe all it took was practice. Our parents had decades of it.
Dadshrugged humbly. “That’s what friends do for each other.” His eyes danced with mischief. “Though you and Griff are more than friends, huh?”
For an instant my jaw went slack. But I pulled myself together quickly. When he waggled his brows teasingly at me, I pretended to blush while shooing him from my room.
He scooted out with a trail of laughter so convincing I briefly wondered if our parents had missed their calling. They would have killed it as actors.
I bolted from bed so quickly that Bobo leapt off after me with an excited bark. I whipped around toward him.
“Bobo, no!”
He stilled, confused.
I wasn’t supposed to remember that Bobo and I had leapt from a rapidly moving Clyde, hitting the pavement hard before rolling. But his body would. He’d broken his leg and recovered without the benefit of paranormal healing abilities.
He stared up at me, tilting his head from side to side, and whined.
My shoulders slumped. I squatted next to him, scratching again behind his ears.
“You did nothing wrong, boy. You’re such a good dog. I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”
He whined again. I gave him some more good scratches, then stood. Excited tingles already raced through my body.
“I’ve gotta hurry for Griff.”
I got ready for school in record time. When the growl of a well-tuned engine drew near—not the one I recognized as Clyde’s, since the most recent version of Clyde had been blown to bits along with Griff—I bounced while rubbing absently at my bicep. No doubt the unexplained soreness was from last night’s nonconsensual shot.
Too anxious to wait, I started walking up my long drive, and when Griffin drew to a stop beside me, I was far enough away from the house that I didn’t have to worry about my superspy not-parents reading into my expression—I didn’t think, anyway. Maybe they’d hidden cameras in the car’s interior, but probably not on the outside.
As far back as my memory went, Clyde had originally been a shiny silver. Then the car was black. This replacement Mustang was silver, but a more matte paint job than what Griff had used.
The passenger-side window was already lowered, and Griffin leaned across the gearshift to gaze up at me. His smile was vibrant and devilish and absolutely fucking gorgeous. It lit up his face, making the many forest shades of his hazel eyes dance. Man, Griff was the hottest dude I’d ever seen in my entire life.
“Hey, baby,” he said in that deep rumbly voice of his that made my toes curl that morning. “You’re looking especially fine today.”
I had so much I wanted to say to him. All that slipped out was a squeak as I gawped at him, unable to stop taking in the radiance that was Griffin Conway come back to life in one glorious, stunning whole. The man was making my insides smolder simply by existing.
His brow furrowed. “You all right?”
That was my cue to put on a show for anyone listening. After swallowing, I nodded. “Yep.” But I sounded like I’d just sucked the helium out of a balloon.
I cleared my throat. “Just happy to see you is all.”
He hummed appreciatively, eyeing me up and down. “Before you ask if that’s a rocket in my pocket or I’m just happy to see you too, it’s both.”
He winked, and I swear I fucking swooned. My vision actually wobbled for a fast second.
Me, swooning. Who even was I anymore?
I finally managed a chuckle and lowered myself into shotgun. I was stashing my bag alongside my feet when Griff shifted Clyde into neutral and tugged on the emergency brake. I was about to ask him what he was doing when his hands wove behind my neck and guided me toward him.
His lips were on mine before I registered he was about to kiss me. His lips were full and soft, warm and absolutely freaking delightful.
A growl slipped from me, buzzing against our joined mouths. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer. Slid across the leather of my seat as I parted my mouth, inviting our tongues to dance, and kissed him and kissed him and fucking kissed him. I kissed him until I could almost forget watching his car explode into nauseating flames, until my heart felt less broken and we were both panting. The cool fall day felt hot, my skin flushed beneath all the stupid clothes that separated my skin from his.
