Page 3 of How Not to Date a Griffin

Healthy. Sure, let’s go with that. Reid looked… healthy.

Reid nodded, and motioned to the phone still in Nolan’s hand. “Figure everything out?”

“Oh!” Nolan’s attention jerked back to the screen, the offending message now hidden from sight but very close in mind. “Uh…”

His thoughts spun. He could go back to the hotel, but now he needed another ride, and how embarrassing if he booked another griffin only for it to be Reid again. And yet telling him he’d been ditched by his coworkers seemed rather humiliating, and he’d rather directly avoid having to admit it aloud.

He could, however, panic about what to do after he paid the handsome gentleman for his time.

Even internally, Nolan realized how that sounded, and winced before typing a few numbers into the screen. “Yes. Tip sent. Thank you for the ride—uh, flight?”

Where did the saddle go? Nolan wondered as Reid pulled his own phone out and blinked at the screen.

“Is that a typo?” he asked, a frown marring his features as he looked back up.

“Hmm?” Nolan was distracted by the long, lean line of Reid’s figure, and snapped his attention back up.

“The zeros. That’s too many,” Reid said, and turned the phone to him, jaw grinding.

Nolan’s cheeks reddened further. “Ah, no. That’s correct.”

“What?! Why would you tip that much? Are you crazy?!”

Nolan held his ground as Reid stepped forward, and tried to get his tongue to work. “W-well, those rideshare apps kind of price gouge, don’t they? Especially during busy hours. And the drivers only get a small fraction of it. Plus, well, you quite literally flew me here, and that’s tiring manual labor, and I thought you should be paid as such. Is that… alright?” he asked, his tirade falling to a more suitable volume as his passion and embarrassment faded to a simmer.

“No, man, it’s just… a lot. I mean, you were my last of the night anyway, but now I can take off without feeling bad. Thanks.”

The smile he offered Nolan left devastation in its wake.

“You’re quite welcome.”

And then Nolan was stalling, waiting for Reid to leave so he could—

“So… you gonna go in?” Reid asked.

“What?” Nolan blinked at him.

“The restaurant? Now that you’re here.”

The text message ran through his mind again, and he cast a dubious glance toward the ritzy restaurant. “Uh… actually—”

Just then, he caught sight of familiar faces gathered around a table through one of the windows.

A few others from the office, all here for the event. Chase, the assistant, for god’s sake, the one who’d texted him. And his own father.

Nolan supposed giving everyone downtime in their rooms really only referred to Nolan himself.

The table laughed at something, and Chase clapped Nolan’s father on the shoulder, jovial smiles all around.

Figures.

Swallowing the confusion and frustration, he turned back to Reid. “Actually, no. I won’t. Something’s come up.”

His brow furrowed as he nodded. “Well, alright then. You sure everything’s alright?”

Nolan considered walking into the oncoming traffic. “Certainly. Why do you ask?”

“You’re gonna break your phone, man,” Reid said, and pointed to the tight—too tight—grasp he had on the device.