But that was fine. I wasn't shiny. I was something else. I bit my lip. I was…functional…like a dependable toaster.
I squared my shoulders.But so what? Not everyone could be golden.
And besides, it didn't even matter. It's not like Griff and I had that kind of relationship.
We worked together. That was it.
I mean, it's not likeI'dbeen interested.
But if that were true, why did I feel like someone had just knocked the wind out of me?
23
Making Conversation, Allegedly
Griff
One bite was more than enough. Yeah, the cookie was terrific, but as soon as Maisie was out of sight, I planned to set the rest of it aside for later.
I was stuffed.
A full steak, a baked potato, and three slices of key lime pie – this had been my breakfast. Yeah,threeslices. Call it half a pie, courtesy of Ryder, who claimed that it would make up for the raisin-gram – whatever that meant.
Just before leaving for work, I'd eaten all of this straight from the takeout boxes that Ryder had shoved at me last night.It wasn't gluttony. It was practicality. My fridge sucked, so I'd wolfed down everything this morning before the glorified icebox could turn it bad.
I wasn't even sure the piewouldgo bad, but I'd eaten the slices just the same. And one thing was for damned sure.The meal had been big enough to last me the whole day.
Now, the last thing I needed was more food. But Maisie had looked so enthused about the cookies that I'd finally tried one to avoid being an asshole.
Sure, Icouldbe an asshole. But for some reason, I didn't want to be one now.
And yet, judging from Maisie's expression, the jury was still out – like one girly bite of cookie hadn't been proof enough.
Screw it.I lifted the rest of the cookie to my face and shoved it into my mouth before I could think better of it. I swallowed hard and waited for her reply.
She blinked, as if coming back from a daydream. "Sorry, what was that?"
I recalled the conversation. "So…your roommate, what's her story?"Fucking Ryder. I had no idea why he cared, but I'd known the guy for a long time, and he didn't ask questions like that without a reason.
Maisie hesitated. "What do you mean?"
Hell ifIknew. "Has she been living here for long?"
"No, actually." Maisie crossed her arms. "Just a few weeks. Why?"
"Just curious."
Maisie gave me a long, irritated look, like she'd just caught me flipping through her roommate's diary.
I couldn't say I blamed her. If someone were probing me about Ryder, I'd probably tell them to shove it.
But she hadn't yet, so like someone who couldn't take a hint, I asked, "Do you know how long she's staying?"
"No. Not for sure." Her mouth tightened. "But I'm guessing through the summer."
Over the past couple of days, Maisie had tried several times to make friendly conversation. Small-town nice – that's what they called it. As for myself, I'd been less than forthcoming – not rude, exactly, but not eager to share either.
No doubt, she was thinking of that now, wondering whysheshould talk when I'd been so silent. It was a fair point, even if she hadn't said so.
