Page 28 of Ethan
And it was driving me crazy.
I stabbed my fork into my mashed potatoes, my tray sitting in front of me on an empty table I barely remembered sitting at.
The entire hall buzzed with shifter voices, laughter, the clatter of trays and boots. None of it registered.
All I could think about was Ethan’s tired smile and the way his fingers had lingered a second too long on mine when he handed me that stupid sandwich.
“Dean!”
I didn’t hear it at first.
“Dean!” A louder voice. Then a wave. Griffin, from across the room.
He was sitting at one of the long tables, half-finished plate in front of him, eyebrows raised as he motioned me over again. A few wolves glanced my way as I stood up, tray in hand.
I made my way over and sat down across from him.
“Saved you a spot,” Griffin said, casually. “It’s usually crowded at this hour.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, suddenly self-conscious. I didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed I was sitting alone, but apparently, someone had.
Griffin took a sip from his water bottle, then tilted his head. “You were really spaced out just now. You good?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just… thinking.”
His brows twitched, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Looking for someone?”
I looked up, caught mid-scan of the room. Dang it.
“I wasn’t?—”
“Ethan usually eats at the clinic,” Griffin said smoothly, like it was no big deal. “He gets stuck with late-night patients. Kids. Elder wolves. Whoever doesn’t heal right on their own.”
I flushed and stabbed at my mashed potatoes again.
“I wasn’t looking for Ethan,” I muttered.
“Really.”
I didn’t answer. Griffin chuckled under his breath and took another bite of his food.
After a minute, he leaned forward slightly. “Listen… about yesterday.”
I glanced up, surprised at the shift in his tone.
“You don’t have to…”
“No, I do.” Griffin frowned. “I jumped to conclusions. I should’ve handled it better. You were new. You were trying. I was?—”
“You were right,” I cut in.
He paused, eyes searching my face.
“I was reckless,” I said, voice lower. “And I was only thinking of myself. About proving something. I put you and Maurice at risk. That was on me.”
Griffin blinked. For a second, he looked genuinely surprised. Then he nodded. “That takes guts to admit.”
“I’ve got guts,” I muttered. “Just not a whole lot of brains, apparently.”
