Page 14 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“The prizes are never as fun as earning the tickets, anyway,” Reid said, and sipped his drink.

“I don’t know,” Nolan disagreed and eyed the prize counter. “That banana shark was pretty cool.”

“Banana shark is the coolest,” Reid agreed. “Who even comes up with that?”

“Well, pear bear just didn’t have the same ring to it,” Nolan retorted.

Reid’s smile was impossibly dazzling. “Watermelon armadillo?”

Oh, Nolan liked this game. Mostly, he liked Reid’s smile as they played. “Pomegranate jellyfish.”

Reid slapped the bartop, then pointed at him. “See? There’s untapped potential here. We could make a whole ecosystem of fruit-animal hybrid…plushes.”

“Who’s to say it doesn’t already exist?”

He scoffed, lifting his drink. “Ours are better.”

“Why’s that?” The words came on instinct, because Nolan was too busy staring shamelessly as Reid’s lips curled around the edge of the glass, chasing a cherry as it neared the rim. With a shake of the glass, it tumbled into his mouth, and Nolan blinked himself out of the trance as Reid said, “’Cause they’re ours, duh.”

Nolan nodded vehemently. “Right, right, of course. I knew that.”

“Everything’s better at the Fruit-Animal Hybrid Ecosystem.”

Nolan chuckled, absentmindedly stirring the last of his drink. “Is that the official name?”

“Yep. Already got the patent for it. Trademark pending, all that.” He waved his hand in a very official manner, and Nolan was so besotted he couldn’t breathe.

“I hope production starts soon, I’ve heard there’s a high demand.” He wasn’t imagining it, right? The connection. The effortless way they matched the other’s energy.

Nolan really couldn’t have another drink. The conference was in the morning—nine sharp— and if he showed up late or, god forbid, hungover, he’d never live it down.

Reid bumped his hip into Nolan as they chuckled and finished their drinks, sharing a smile.

Unbidden, Nolan’s gaze dipped to Reid’s lips, reddened and shining from the cold, brightly-colored drinks.

He could’ve sworn it had only been a split second, but when he returned his attention where it belonged, Reid’s warm, brown eyes were glittering.

“Ready to move on?” Reid asked, voice low and soft.

Never. “Yeah, suppose it’s time.”

It took until they left the bar for Nolan to realize he was right. It couldn’t be one-sided.

If it was one-sided, would Reid trip over the lip of the door, stumble into Nolan, and wrap an arm around his waist to balance himself, only to leave the arm there as he corralled him down the street? Nolan froze, frantic in his desire not to mess this up.

What would someone who knew exactly what kind of situation this was do now?

And he did that, threading the fingers of his right hand through Reid’s where they rested on his hip. Nolan couldn’t look at Reid, but he didn’t not look at Reid, either, and saw the ghost of a smile tug at his lips.

This is happening, right?

Reid wouldn’t have dedicated his entire night to showing Nolan all his favorite places—places from his childhood, places that had meaning to him—if he didn’t enjoy Nolan’s company.

Reid slowed their pace before pausing in front of a restaurant and bar, string lights glowing warm in the windows, and waiters rushing to and fro as patrons laughed.

“What’s this?” Nolan asked, glancing up at the sign. Essie’s Place. It seemed familiar, but he couldn’t imagine why.

“This is my place,” Reid announced.