Page 112 of Offside Attraction

He leans back, stretching comfortably, eyes fixed on me as he flips through the menu like he’s in no rush. Like he’s got all the time in the world.

“So tell me, what made you choose an escape room for our little bonding moment?”

Hayes smiles a little as he glances around the small diner. My guess, to stall.

“Why do I have a feeling you can’t get enough of me, huh, Griffin?”

“Is that so?”

I shrug, tapping my fingers on the back of the booth as I stare at him.

Hayes chuckles softly, his fingers playing with the straw on our table. “You got me, Miller. Spending an hour locked in a room with you was at the top of my bucket list.”

“Probably.”

Hayes scoffs, his smirk slipping off his lips as he licks his bottom lip. Our eyes are locked, and involuntarily, I let my eyes drop down to his lips before quickly snapping them back up to meet his gaze. My chest tightens as I realize he noticed. Hissmirk returns, smaller now, but sharper, like he’s figured out something I didn’t want him to.

“Careful, Dakota,” he says softly, his voice low enough that it feels like it’s meant only for me. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you’re the one who can’t get enough of me.”

I scoff, leaning back in the booth to create some distance, even though my pulse is racing. “In your dreams, Griffin.”

“Maybe,” he replies, his focus still fixed on me. “But I’m not the one staring.”

I roll my eyes and look away, grasping for literally any distraction. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was just trying to figure out how someone so annoying even exists.”

Hayes chuckles, the sound deep and warm, and somehow more irritating than his usual mocking tone. “Keep telling yourself that, Miller.”

The tension between us crackles like a live wire, sharp and dangerous, and I can’t decide if I want to punch him right now or… something else I refuse to even think about.

Thankfully, a waitress approaches our table, putting whatever the hell this is to a stop.

“Hello, boys,” she purrs, bending slightly with her palms pressed to the table as her attention lands squarely on me. Her smile is bright—too bright. Flirtatious. Her lips are painted a bold red, and the top two buttons of her blouse are undone, her breasts threatening to spill free if she leans any closer.

“Ready to order?” she asks, biting her bottom lip as she straightens, pen poised.

I glance up at her, her gaze lingering just a beat too long, sliding over me in a way that makes my skin itch. It’s not that I’m not used to attention like this—I am. What makes me uncomfortable is the way Hayes is watching me.

Staring.

There’s something off about his expression. The smirk he wears so easily isn’t quite there, and his eyes aren’t filled with that usual mocking amusement. Instead, there’s something darker, tighter—something sharp and restrained. It’s subtle, but it’s there, burning beneath the surface.

Jealousy.

The realization hits me harder than it should, sending an unwanted flip through my stomach. I almost laugh at the absurdity of it. He treats me like shit, pushes every button I have, and yet here he is, bristling because a waitress dared to look at me too long.

What a fucking dick.

The petty part of me—the part that refuses to go quietly—decides to savor it.

“Grilled cheese sandwich,” I say, meeting the waitress’s eyes with a slow smirk. “And a bottle of water.”

Her cheeks flush instantly.

Hayes scoffs, the sound sharp, immediate—like he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.

I turn to him, one eyebrow lifting. “Problem?”

He glares at me, jaw tight, and answers without so much as sparing the waitress a glance. “Burger. Medium rare. Fries. Diet Coke.”