Page 7 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“Well, I’d like to avoid that, so fine. Keep your secrets.”

The moment hung there, suspended between them in silence, and they might have been standing by a trash can, with noisy cars passing by and dawdling strangers giving them a wide berth as they stared at each other, but Reid couldn’t find it in him to care. He finally spoke. “So, ice cream?”

Nolan studied him, probably searching for that pity he’d expected. But empathizing with someone’s shitty situation and wanting to make their night better was different than pity, yeah?

Whatever Nolan found in Reid’s gaze was enough for him, and he finally nodded.

Reid didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until Nolan said, “Yes. Alright, let’s get ice cream.”

He just stopped himself from bringing his fist down in a fuck yeah, but couldn’t stop himself from grabbing Nolan’s hand again, if only to watch his cheeks flush and his gaze drop to where they touched.

Then he dragged him down the street, back toward the pizza place, and past it, around the block.

“How long have you been here?” Nolan asked, waving his unoccupied hand around them. “You sure know your way around,” he continued as Reid tugged them down the sidewalk.

“My whole life, since before the Big Reveal,” he said.

“And have you always been a rideshare, uhm, taxi?”

Reid chuckled at the title. “What is this, a job interview?”

At Nolan’s sputtering, he chuckled and gave his hand a squeeze. “Relax, I’m teasing.”

It was probably weird to be holding this guy’s hand, right? But he didn’t want to let go, and likewise, Nolan wasn’t trying to release his hand either.

So he didn’t.

And he zigzagged them around a few pedestrians, until the faded pink sign of a local ice cream shop called Chippy’s came into view, and he grinned, sharing his excitement with Nolan.

What must this fancy schmancy guy think of Reid bringing him to all these rundown places?

Their hands finally did part as Reid reached forward to hold the door open for him.

Nolan smirked. “Why thank you, kind sir.”

“After you, sir,” Reid retorted, and his dick absolutely showed interest in the way the word made Nolan’s cheeks go red.

“Everything is made in house, even the cookie pieces you can mix in,” he explained, and motioned to the case full of chilled metal containers, and the plastic bins holding all the toppings. On top of the case, the different bowl sizes and cones were lined up.

“There’s so many choices – how the hell do you decide?” Nolan asked, eyes wide as he took it all in. Very much like a kid in an ice cream shop and not a refined businessman in a suit.

“I have my go-to’s. But it’s fun to try something new,” he teased, nudging his shoulder into the back of Nolan’s.

Nolan shot a grin over his shoulder, and Reid wondered if needing three to five business days to recover from his smile was too much.

Nolan’s gaze dragged greedily over the chocolate dipped waffle cone and all the toppings. Reid pointed out all the flavors, and called his favorites off by heart.

So when they finally reached the counter, only for Nolan to order a plain vanilla scoop on a sugar cone… Reid was surprised. Slightly disappointed.

But he didn’t let that hold him back. He asked for his favorite combination on a waffle cone, and shot a wink in Nolan’s direction.

Before Nolan could assault the napkin station, Reid grabbed a handful as they waited for their cones. The hum of the air conditioner was loud, the shop was small, a little dingy, and Reid felt perfectly at home there.

His double-stacked cone was cold to the touch as he accepted it from the employee, and Nolan gathered his with two fingers daintily curling around the paper wrapper.

Reid held the door open for him and groaned as the humid air poured through the door.

Nolan’s jacket was tossed over one arm, and they stalled out on the sidewalk. “Where to now?”