Page 10

nine

. . .

Griffin

That night, I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, flipping through Spanish flashcards on my phone—mostly to look productive while I wait for the group text to decide where we’re going tonight. The faint murmur of voices and laughter drifts up from the courtyard, where a few classmates are already pregaming with cheap tequila and bad dance moves.

Avery’s been holed up in the bathroom for a while now. She came back from dinner quieter than usual, which is saying something, considering she’s been pretty subdued since the breakup.

When she finally steps out, her hair tied back and her face freshly washed, she looks... tired. Like she’s carrying the weight of something heavier than she lets on.

“You okay?” I ask, leaning back against the headboard.

“I’m fine,” she says automatically, sitting on the edge of her bed and scrolling through her phone.

It’s a lie, obviously.

A thought hits me, and before I can second-guess it, I say, “A bunch of us are heading out tonight. You should come.”

She doesn’t even look up. “I’m good. Thanks.”

I grin, trying a different approach. “We’re going to dance.”

That gets her attention. Her eyes snap to mine, and for the first time tonight, I see a flicker of something other than exhaustion.

“Bailar, you say?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, vamos a bailar toda la noche,” I reply, throwing in a dramatic accent for good measure. “All night long, baby.”

And then—before she can roll her eyes, before she can shoot me down—I push off the bed, swipe my phone off the nightstand, and press play.

The opening beats of " Despacito " fill the room.

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You’re kidding.”

“Never been more serious in my life.”

I grab her hand and yank her up before she can protest, spinning her straight into my arms. She gasps, eyes going wide as I smoothly twirl her once, then again, pulling her close like we’re in the middle of a crowded dance floor instead of a tiny hotel room.

“Griffin!” she shrieks, already breathless.

“Shhh. Feel the music, Princess.”

I slide a hand to her waist and start swaying dramatically, singing along with absolute zero shame.

She loses it.

Full-on, hysterical laughter, her head tilting back as she nearly collapses against me, completely helpless. “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming.”

“Ridiculously off-beat.”

I gasp. “How dare you? I’m in my prime.”

I dip her suddenly, just to prove a point, and she yelps, gripping onto my shoulders as she laughs even harder. “Don’t drop me!”

Drop her? Oh, never. I grin down at her. “That’s the spirit.”

When I pull her back up, her cheeks are flushed, her eyes finally alive again.

She shakes her head, still giggling. “Okay, fine. Let me get ready.”

I release her with a grand flourish. “That’s what I thought.”

I watch as she disappears into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

And for the first time tonight, I don’t wonder if she actually wants to go out.

Because right before she walked away—just for a second—she looked happy.

If cheering up Avery is all I’m meant to do this trip, then so be it.

Fifteen to twenty minutes later, the door creaks open, and she steps out.

She’s wearing a simple dress—soft and flowy, with thin straps that frame her shoulders and just enough curve to make my brain short-circuit for a second. Her hair falls loosely around her face, and her cheeks have the faintest flush, like she’s trying not to seem like she tried too hard.

She looks stunning.

And for once, I’m trying not to be a dick about it.

Her eyes narrow slightly, like she’s reading my mind. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, grabbing my keys from the nightstand.

“Hmm,” she says, crossing her arms. “I feel like you’re going easy on me since the breakup. Do you actually have a soul?”

“Fine,” I say, standing up and grabbing my jacket. “Just for that, I’m going to try and make out with you on the dance floor tonight. Because what you really need is a rebound. And admit it: I’m perfect rebound material.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Not in a million years.”

I smirk, opening the door for her. “C’mon, people did say we have ‘married couple’ energy.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a flicker of something else in her expression—something she brushes off almost instantly.

“First of all… no, Griffin. Second of all…” She hesitates a beat too long. Then, as if remembering, she adds, “Cassie would kill me. She’d kill both of us.”

I pause, giving her a once-over like I’m considering something serious. Then, in my most casual, deadpan voice, I ask, “So you don’t think I look hot in this shirt?”

Avery blinks.

Her mouth opens, then closes. Then—she laughs, shaking her head as she pushes past me. “Griffin. You’re pushing it, now.”

“I do love to push it.”

Her laugh follows me out into the hallway, light and unexpected, and I can’t help but grin.

Tonight’s going to be a blast.

The cantina is alive with music, laughter, and the kind of energy that makes you forget you’re supposed to be learning things on this trip. Lights strung across the ceiling cast a warm glow over the crowded dance floor, where couples spin and sway to the rhythm of the band playing in the corner.

Avery and I are at the bar, waiting for our drinks. She’s perched on the edge of the stool, her dress catching the light just enough to make me notice how good she looks tonight. Not that I’m going to tell her that.

She’s still nursing her heartbreak over Gavin. I can tell that despite the fact that she dumped him, she did get attached. She’s always loved hard. So, for some reason, I’ve decided to play the role of her distraction.

“So,” I say, leaning against the bar, “you’re actually having fun tonight?”

She gives me a side-eye glance. “Define fun.”

“Not thinking about Gavin,” I reply.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. “Maybe.”

Before I can tease her more, one of our classmates—a guy named Derek, who thinks he’s smoother than he is—sidles up to Avery, his drink sloshing slightly in his hand.

“Avery,” he says, his tone dripping with forced charm. “You look amazing tonight. Heard about your breakup.”

She blinks, caught off guard. “Oh. Thanks, Derek.”

“You should dance,” he adds, stepping closer. “With me.”

I raise an eyebrow, but Avery waves him off, smiling politely. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Aw, come on,” he says, leaning on the bar. “One dance won’t kill you.”

“I’m just…not in the mood. Thanks though.”

“But Avery?—”

“Bro, she said no,” I say before I can stop myself, my voice sharper than intended.

Derek looks at me, his brow furrowing. “What’s it to you, Knox?”

I shrug, leaning casually against the bar. “Look…there are times to push it, and times not to push it. Read the room, and just let her drink in peace, Derek.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, man. I’m doing you a favor. You’re hammered.”

“Dick.”

“Yup. Do you want to do something about it?”

He takes one look at me and leaves. Avery turns to me, her eyes narrowing. “Looking out for me? Really?”

“What can I say?” I reply, smirking. “I’m a hero. I mean, he asked three times. Two I’d be okay with. Three was too many.”

She shakes her head, her lips twitching like she’s fighting a smile. “You’re something. Let’s chill with the self-aggrandizing talk. For like two seconds?”

Before she can say anything else, a woman steps up to the bar beside me. She’s tall, with dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail and a confidence that could rival anyone in the room.

“Hi. ?Quieres bailar?” she asks, her voice smooth as silk.

I glance at Avery, whose expression shifts ever so slightly, like she’s waiting to see what I’ll say.

“You okay here?” I ask.

She nods. “I’ll be fine.”

“Me encantaría,” I reply, holding the woman’s gaze for a moment before turning to Avery. “I’ll keep an out for any more threats.”

Her jaw tightens, and for some reason, that tiny reaction sends a flicker of satisfaction through me.

I follow the woman onto the dance floor, feeling Avery’s eyes on me the entire way.

I smile back, maybe a little more than I would have a few days ago.

I mean, she’s single now.

Let the games begin.