Page 47 of Tangled Kisses
I am so not good at being the center of attention.
Seems Griffin doesn’t care as he crosses the stage and hunkers down by the corner closest to me.
“She and her sister look like they’re having a good time,” Griffin drawls, that teasing smile still on his lips. “But I’m hoping I might make it even better. Ready, boys?”
I know the song on the first note. They’re playingBright Side of the Roadby Van Morrison. My favorite.
I veer off the dance floor and snatch my beer from the table. The glass chills my palm, but the sip never makes it to my lips. “Griffin said he didn’t know this song,” I whisper, staring at the stage like an awe-struck teenager.
“Someone’s got a crush.” Piper bumps her hip into mine and steals the beer right out of my hand.
“I do not.”
Liar, liar.
“Who said anything about you?” She grins wickedly and grabs my hand, tugging me back into the spin of dancers.
We whirl, we laugh, we belt out lyrics like we’re teenagers again. And every time I look up, Griffin is there, smiling like the song belongs to me.
Then he leans back into the mic. “Think we’ve got one more. This one’s for you too, Reese.”
The band shifts gears, softer this time, more deliberate. Another Van Morrison classic—the love song that unravels me.Crazy Love.
Piper loops her arm around my shoulders, giggling as we sway. Before I can catch my breath, Jimmy steps in, offering his hand with a grin.
“How about a dance, Ms. Reese? If Piper doesn’t mind sharing.”
My sister presses a hand to her chest, mock glaring at the comely bartender. “Fine. But only one, Jimmy. Return her in one piece.”
He twirls me into an easy rhythm, steady and kind—the exact sort of man I should want. But my smile slips the second I glance at the stage.
Griffin’s eyes are locked on me again. Not playful. Not smiling. Brow furrowed, jaw tight—like the song isn’t for the room, it’s for me alone.
And here I am, dancing with another man.
A shiver ripples through me, even in the press of bodies on the dance floor.
There’s no way Griffin is jealous. Absolutely not. He doesn’t get jealous. He has no reason to be. We’re not dating. We’re not even close to dating. He fucks women for a living, for God’s sake.
But the way he’s looking at me?
It scorches, like a brand pressed to my skin.
And then—just like that—his gaze cuts away. For the rest of the song, Griffin doesn’t glance my way. He stares out over the crowd like I’ve ceased to exist.
I focus on Jimmy’s polite chatter, grateful for the distraction, but the moment feels… off.
When the last notes fade, I clap along with the crowd, louder than I need to. “Amazing!” I call up to the stage, my voice carrying despite the noise.
Griffin doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t even flicker. Just gives a stiff nod to the crowd before setting his guitar aside and turning his attention to the women swarming him.
Of course. Just me reading into things again.
Note to self: never pour beer on your heartstrings—it makes you see things that aren’t there.
“Thanks for the dance,” I tell Jimmy with a polite smile before slipping back toward Piper.
She’s already at the bar settling the tab. “Ready to go?”
