door opened behind me. I quickly turned to see who had caught me skipping out. When I recognized Blake, I immediately relaxed.
“I thought you were my mother or my aunt coming out here to drag me back in.”
“Nah,” Blake said as he walked down the concrete stairs and over to me. He pulled out a flask from his suit jacket. “You look like you could use this.”
I lifted the cap and took a long drink. The whiskey went down with ease.
“Thanks,” I said, handing it back. I wasn’t a huge drinker despite my choice of business, but sometimes, there was no substitute for alcohol.
Blake took a sip and gave it to me again.
“I probably shouldn’t,” I said.
“And you probably shouldn’t be hiding out in the garage after your father’s funeral.”
“Good point.” I took another drink. I tried to look inside. “There’s not much left.”
“Then, let’s finish it up.”
“If I get drunk, my mother is going to kill me.”
Blake scoffed. “You’re not going to get drunk. But if you’re lucky, you might get a much-needed buzz.”
MADELINE
I watched as Griffin and Blake came in from the garage, laughing.
I groaned and rushed over to them before all the guests saw them. I stopped them both with hands to their chests. “Gentlemen, I would like to remind you that you are at a funeral reception, and many would not appreciate your humor.”
They both tried to school their faces, but they couldn’t stop snickering.
I leaned in closer to them. “Are you drunk?”
There wasn’t any alcohol being served today, so I couldn’t be sure.
“Blake brought a little something,” Griffin said.
Blake put his hand on mine. “I would have saved you some if I had known you wanted to join us.”
“No, thank you.”
Griffin reached over and took my hand from Blake’s. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said to me.
I frowned. “Is something wrong?”
He seemed to think quite a bit about this. “No.”
“Then, can it wait? Your mother has guests. You have guests. They’re here to see both of you.”
“Please. I don’t want to hear one more person tell me they’re sorry.” He leaned down and whispered, “I think I might punch the next person who says it.”
I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Maybe it was a good idea to take him somewhere and talk to him before he embarrassed himself and his mom.
“Let’s go talk,” I said. I studied Blake. “Are you going to be okay? You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?”
He put his hand to his chest. “Moi?”
“Yeah, you.”
“I can hold my liquor. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
I rolled my eyes. I doubted that, but Griffin was my main concern.
“Will you go find Caleb, please?” I asked Blake. Hopefully, Caleb would keep an eye on him.
I put my arm in Griffin’s. “Let’s go talk.”
He led me down to his old bedroom. He stopped at the doorway and looked at his parents’ bedroom door. He must have realized he was staring because he shook his head and walked into his bedroom.
I closed the door behind me. “Okay, what is it—”
Before I could finish, Griffin was kissing me.
My best friend had been very needy and overly sexual over the last week. I had been there for him when he needed me, but now wasn’t the time.
I pulled away. “Griffin, did you have something you needed to talk to me about, or did you just want to come in here and have sex?”
He grinned. “I want to have sex.”
I put my hand on his chest. “No.”
“No again?”
“Griffin, I am not having sex with you here. The house is full of people mourning your father.” I took a deep breath and dared to say the next words. “You should be mourning your father.”
He lost his smile, and his face turned angry. “I don’t want to mourn him. I want him here.”
I picked up his hand. “I know you do, Griff, but—”
He yanked his hand away. “No, you don’t. You don’t know. Both of your parents are still alive.”
I nodded and looked down at my hands. “You’re right. Wrong choice of words.”
“Forget it. I’m out of here.”
I raised my head in time to see him throw open the bedroom door and march out of the room.
I followed him into the living room.
“Blake?” Griffin shouted.
Blake popped up. “What?”
“Let’s go.”
“All right.”
Within seconds, the two of them walked out the front door.
Camile came up and stood beside me.
“He’s grieving,” I told her.
“I know.” She turned and walked away.
Griffin didn’t come back, and when I