Dakota leaned in slightly, her expression unreadable. "Did you want to kiss her?"

Griffin didn't answer right away. Instead, he focused on his ice cream again, watching the way the swirls melted together like it held the answer. He shrugged, playing it off like it wasn't that deep.

"I don't know. But don't tell anyone I told you."

Tate grinned, elbowing him. "You really have this much trust in me?"

Griffin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Oh, God."

"Relax, dude," Tristan said. "We're not saying anything."

"No one," Dakota promised.

Griffin sighed in relief, letting his body sink back into his chair. The conversation faded after that, the tension settling, everyone returning to their ice cream.

And then-

"Oh my fucking God."

The voice cut through the air, sharp and accusing.

Every muscle in Griffin's body tensed.

Slowly, all four of them turned.

Standing just a few feet away, staring at them like they had just confessed to murder, was Bailey.

Griffin blinked. "Bailey?"

She didn't answer right away. Her wide-eyed expression said enough.

"What are you doing here?" he tried again, his voice careful.

Bailey scoffed, shaking her head. "Malachi and I come here all the time at night," she said, her tone dripping with disbelief.

Griffin's grip on his spoon tightened.

He straightened in his seat, choosing his words carefully. "Bailey. Did you hear any of that?"

Bailey didn't answer. She didn't need to.

The way she was looking at him, the way her lips parted like she was holding something back-it told him everything.

Griffin's chair scraped against the tile as he pushed back and stood, leveling her with a firm stare.

"Bailey Aurora Moody," he said slowly, voice low and serious. "Do not open your fucking mouth and tell anyone. Do you understand? No one."

Bailey's eyes stayed locked on his, her body stiff as she gave a single nod.

Griffin didn't break eye contact. "Bailey Moody."

"I won't," she said quickly.

He studied her for a second longer before exhaling, reluctantly sinking back into his seat.

Bailey hesitated for a beat, then turned on her heel, walking toward the door.

Griffin watched her go, his pulse still thrumming in his ears. He could feel the weight of his friends' stares, but no one said anything.

And then-

Just before Bailey disappeared out the door-

Her lips curled. Barely. Just a hint of a smirk.

And as she walked off, her fingers lifted at her side.

Crossed.