Page 112 of The Rookie

My head snaps up, my eyes wide. “You can’t talk like that in public.”

“Why not?” he asks, leaning back in his chair like he owns the world. His grin widens, and there’s a mischievous glint in his bright green eyes.

“Because…” I swallow hard, my voice lowering. “Because I’m getting so turned on I can barely sit here without losing my mind.”

His laugh is low and sinful, his voice dipping into a teasing growl. “Good. That’s kind of the point.”

I glare at him, though it’s half-hearted at best. My cheeks are burning, my body on fire, and he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I take a long sip of my cappuccino, hoping to cool the heat pooling low in my stomach, but it’s a lost cause.

“You know,” Griffin says after a while, his tone softer now, “I get why he flew down here. Sorry. We said we’ll not talk abut him. My bad.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”

He shrugs, leaning forward to take a sip of his coffee. “If I thought I was losing you, I’d probably do something stupid too.”

My stomach flips, but I keep my face neutral. “Well, it didn’t work. Gavin and I were done long before last night. He just couldn’t accept it.”

Griffin tilts his head, studying me. “So why’d you stay with him as long as you did?”

I hesitate, fiddling with the handle of my cup. “Because it felt safe,” I admit finally. “It wasn’t exciting or passionate, but it was familiar. Comfortable.”

“Comfortable sounds boring as hell,” Griffin says, the corners of his mouth twitching.

I glare at him, but there’s no heat behind it. “That’s not fair. Not everyone needs fireworks and drama to be happy.”

“No, but you do,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re not the kind of person who settles, Sinclair. So why’d you settle for him?”

I blink at him, his words hitting harder than I expected. “Maybe I thought that’s what love was supposed to feel like,” I say after a long pause. “Maybe I was afraid to ask for more.”

Griffin leans back, his green eyes never leaving mine. “Asking for more isn’t selfish. It’s smart.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “And you’re an expert on relationships now?”

“Hardly,” he says, smirking. “But even I know you shouldn’t waste your time on someone who doesn’t make you feel alive.”

The words hang between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. I glance out at the water, my chest tightening as I think about how easy it would be to fall into the same patterns—to accept less than what I really want because it’s easier than starting over.

“Alright,” I say. “We better get to Spanish class. We’re going to be late.”

That evening, the sun is just beginning to set, casting long golden streaks across the pavement as we step out of the university’s WiFi range.

“Drinks?” Jake asks, tossing his keys in the air before catching them smoothly. “There’s a little rooftop bar near the hotel—happy hour margaritas, live music, the works.”

“Oh, I’m in,” Kayla chimes, linking her arm through mine.

Griffin raises an eyebrow at me, smirking. “What do you say, Sinclair? Think you can keep up?”

I roll my eyes, pulling out my phone absently as we head toward the street. “I can handle a couple drinks, Knox. Don’t get cocky.”

But then—my phone buzzes.

A single notification pops up at the top of the screen.

SUBJECT: FULBRIGHT FINAL INTERVIEW – TIME SENSITIVE

My feet stop moving. My breath catches.

I tap the email open, my heart pounding in my ears as I scan the words.

---