Page 152 of A Little Jaded
After he takes a sip, I grab it and do the same, adding, “To grumpy hockey players.”
His chuckle is low and throaty as he watches me steal another taste of hot chocolate, then grabs the mug from my fingers. “To gorgeous tattoo artists.”
Before he has a chance to sip it, I snatch it from him and give him a pointed look. “Tattooapprentices.”
“For now,” he argues but outstretches his hand, waitingfor me to give it back. When I do, he swallows another mouthful and sets it on the table beside us. “To graduations and proposals and babies and every other curveball life can throw at us. As long as I’m with you, I say bring it on.”
My mouth lifts as I lean closer, closing the space between us. “Bring it on.”
Then he seals the promise with a kiss, and even though it’s definitely PG, I know I’ll still crave it for the rest of my life.
Bring it on, Everett.
We got this.
The End
HIJACKED EPILOGUE
GRIFFIN
Let’s back up a bit, shall we?
“Hey, you good?” I ask.
My best friend’s little sister freezes and looks down at my hand wrapped around her bicep. Fuck, I didn’t even notice I grabbed her. Not roughly, mind you, but still. Forcing my fingers to relax, I lift them one at a time from forefinger to pinky, ignoring how soft her skin is, and let her go as the crowd moves around us. The bar is busy. To be fair, SeaBird’s always busy. With reasonably priced drinks, kickass appetizers, a live band most nights, a laid-back bouncer, and the perfect location a few blocks from LAU’s campus, it’s the place to be. It’s also why my friends and I shouldn’t have been surprised when we found out the girls slipped away to hang out here tonight. Dylan, my little sister, has been best friend’s with Ophelia and Finley since they were babies. It makes sense, since they were raised together, thanks to all of our parents being best friends in college. Raine, however, is new. She’s also Everett’s fakegirlfriend and the reason we showed up to SeaBird tonight in the first place.
Everything was going fine until the girls were on the dance floor and a group of guys approached them. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, and I doubt it’ll be the last. One after another, my buddies claimed their girls, and I stepped in to protect Finley from being hit on. Is she mine? Not even close. She’s my best friend’s little sister and has been dating a guy across the country for years now, but since attending LAU and moving into the place I share with the rest of the guys, I’ve offered a helping hand once or twice. Nah, fuck that. A hundred times. Maybe a thousand. We grew up together. She’s one of my best friends. And even though we’ve never crossed that line, she’s never been one to shy away from flirting or pretending we’re together if the situation called for it.
So why the hell did she run away when I pretended to be her boyfriend in hopes of saving her from a handsy guy on the dance floor? She looked like she wanted nothing to do with me. Like I was a fucking pariah or some shit.
“You good?” I repeat.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Finley whispers.
It’s a lie, and we both know it. Or maybe we don’t. Maybe I can read her better than she can even read herself. It’s not surprising, considering the girl in front of me.
“Fin,” I warn, then glance toward the crowded dance floor. “What the fuck was that out there?”
“It was nothing.”
“I was only messing around,” I argue.
“I know.”
“Then why are you lookin’ at me like this?”
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” she whispers.
“You’re right. You’re not looking at me at all,” I growl, moving closer until she’s practically pinned between me andthe rough brick wall. “What’s going on? Did Drew do something again?”
Drew. The asshole boyfriend she’s still with despiteliterallyeveryone telling her to dump his ass.
She rolls her eyes. “Griff?—”
“What did he do, Fin?” I demand.
“He did nothing, all right?”