"For crying out loud, Taylor. We're not dating. You don't have to leave us alone."
Taylor's head tilted to the side. "Does he know I'm here?"
"What? No. I don't know. Why?"
"Because that boy is super comfortable around you, but he doesn't really know me yet. And if he's meeting you here instead of at The Fix, don't you think that means he wants some chill time where he can just feel comfortable and not worry about what folks are thinking about his scars?"
"Why do people need to think anything about his scars?" Megan countered, though she knew the question was stupid. A childhood accident had left Griffin with massive scarring all over his right side. And though she didn't even notice anymore, she knew that outside of his family, she was unique in his life.
She'd told the truth about her and Griff; there was nothing romantic between them. But Taylor was also right. Megan and Griffin had clicked right away, and though they'd both thought that meant they should date, after one awkward kiss, they'd quickly realized they were more like brother and sister than boyfriend-girlfriend. So, yeah, Griff probably would like some down time with her before they joined the crowd.
With a sigh, she shrugged. "Okay, go ahead. We'll meet you there."
As soon as Taylor was out the door, Megan returned to the second story living area and peered out the window, watching her friend head toward Sixth Street even as she looked for the battered Mustang that Griffin was in the process of rebuilding.
Frowning when she didn't see it, she started to pull away from the window so she could grab her phone and send a text asking for an ETA. But the sight of a black car across the street made her pause. She hugged herself, warding off a sudden chill as she tried to chalk it up to the tank top she was wearing with her jeans. But it wasn't the outfit; it was that car. Had she seen it before? Had it been parked there yesterday?
A series of prickles raced up her spine, and she jumped a mile when the gate buzzer sounded. She clapped a hand over her chest, sighed, and told herself sternly to quit seeing ghosts where there weren't any. Los Angeles was behind her; nothing but a memory.
She had Austin now, a place she'd chosen on a whim that had turned out to be brilliant inspiration. She loved this town, and she had yet to be disappointed. The food was great, the vibe was excellent, and she'd already surrounded herself with a fabulous circle of friends. Including the one who was at her gate at that very moment. And she was not going to screw it all up by worrying about shadows from the past. Carlton wasn't here. He wasn't coming here. And she needed to quit being paranoid.
After one more deep breath to steady herself, she trotted to the wall, then pressed the button for the intercom. "Griff?"
"You ready?" he asked from the pedestrian gate. "Or should I come in?"
"Come on in," she said as she hit the button to open the gate. "I still have to do my make-up." She didn't, however, intend to change clothes. Her jeans and Keep Austin Weird tank top might be ridiculously casual, but no one here would care. In LA, everyone had gotten dressed up for everything, but Austin was so much more laid-back. Besides, she still hadn't gotten used to the heat and the humidity, and tank tops had become her summer uniform of choice.
"Sorry I'm running late," she said when Griff reached her door. "Taylor came over for a while, but she cut out when I said you were on your way. Said she'd meet us at the bar."
"Yeah? Why didn't she stay?" he asked, pulling his hoodie off his head with one quick motion of his hand.
Megan gave herself a mental kick in the ass, because she wasn't about to admit to him that Taylor was being sensitive about his scars. "I'm pretty sure she thinks we're secretly dating."
"Quite the secret," he said, "considering neither of us is in on it."
Laughing, she hurried upstairs to finish getting ready. Which, considering they really weren't dating, didn't take that long at all. She put on light make-up, then pulled her hair up into a ponytail to keep the back of her neck from getting sweaty in the Austin heat.
"I'll have to tell Taylor that she can tell we're not dating by the fact that I'm wearing a tank top," she added when she returned to him.
"What? I'm not cool enough for you to dress up for?" he teased.
"This town's not cool enough to dress for. Honestly, maybe I'll hold off dating until fall," she added. "It's a wardrobe thing."
"A valid choice," he said. "I'm holding off until the next millennium. It's an ego thing."
"Griff..." She trailed off with a shake of her head. It was an argument they'd been having since almost the first day they'd met. "You don't need to be so self-conscious. We almost dated, and you weren't ever self-conscious around me."
"Yeah, but you're a make-up artist."
She paused at the door, baffled. "That doesn't make sense. I'd think you'd be more self-conscious around me."
He shook his head. "No, you're trained to see past flaws. To you, enlarged pores are as much of a chall
enge as this mess." He indicated his face, only barely visible now that he'd pulled his inevitable hoodie back up. "Most people just see the surface and not the potential. If I date--"
"When you date," she corrected.
"When I date," he began again, "it'll be a woman who knows how to do that."