Page 3 of Griffin

I nod, pushing past Kevin into the kitchen.

“Let’s eat.”

“Ivy.” Kevin grins, ruffling her hair. “I got you noodles.”

Ivy’s groans fill the room as she wakes up, and I tilt my head to look at her. She’s yawning, her eyes still closed.

At twenty-one, I was working seven days a week. So I know how she feels.

“Did you get any food from work?” Kevin asks, taking the food from the bag.

Ivy walks into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

Ice-blue eyes meet mine as she smiles, giving me a little wave.

“Hey, Griffin.”

“Hey, Ivy.” I grin back and hand Kevin the plates.

“No, I left as soon as I finished,” Ivy says, wincing at me when her dad sighs.

“I know, but you must have time to pick up some stuff before you come home. We need milk, bread, and everything fucking else by the look of this.” Kevin stares into the empty fridge. “It’s only me and you, Ivy; how do we run out of food?”

Ivy points at me, and I roll my eyes.

“Don’t blame me,” I say, jabbing a fork into my food. “I don’t live here.”

Kevin and Ivy exchange a look, and I frown.

“What?”

Kevin chuckles as he heads into the lounge with his food.

“You spend as much time here as we do, Mason.”

“He’s right, Mr. Mason,” Ivy says with a wink, leaning around me to grab a fork. “You’re always here.”

Her perfume smells delicious, and her ass in that uniform — shit, I can’t think like this.

She’s my buddy’s daughter.

“Don’t call me Mr. Mason,” I mutter, trying to avert my eyes as she bends down to scoop up the cat who’s just strolled in. “Makes me think of my old man.”

Ivy mumbles something to the cat before letting him go, dusting the fur from her T-shirt. She looks at me and feigns innocence.

“Sorry,Griffin.”

I cut my eyes at her, and she holds my gaze for a second before grabbing her food.

“I’m starving.”

I follow her into the lounge, where Kevin is scrolling through his phone, shoveling food into his mouth.

“Shit,” he groans, and we look at him with surprise. “I’ve got to go back and shift some more stuff for Langley. Fucking hell.”

Langley is our supervisor and can always be trusted to come up with last-minute emergencies to ruin everyone’s weekend.

“Want me to come?” I offer, knowing it will be quicker with the two of us.

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