A Little Secret (The Little Things #4)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

GRIFFIN

A few years ago…

“ W ell, would you look at that.” I pull Finley into a hug, realizing the girl barely reaches my armpit. “You shrunk.”

My best friend’s little sister has always been short. Or maybe the age gap has always been too big, and now that I’m officially a senior in high school and have hit a few growth spurts, she’ll never catch up.

This doesn’t mean she hasn’t changed since I last saw her, though. The baby fat from her face is missing, making her look older and more mature. Her mascara makes her gray eyes pop even more than I remember, too. And, thanks to her braces being removed since the last time I saw the girl, her smile is whiter and brighter than ever. Simply put? My best friend’s little sister is fucking gorgeous.

Craning her neck up at me, Finley arches her brow. “I grew two inches since the last time you saw me, thank you very much. You just happened to grow a foot. That’s a you problem, not a me problem.”

My mouth twitches. “Like everything else in the world. Right, Fin?”

She grins. “Exactly.”

And just like that, my childhood crush flares to full force. I’ve always had a thing for Finley Taylor. I won’t ever do anything about it, especially after my half-assed comment in the car with Ev earlier. He’s my best friend and Finley’s older brother. I’m not gonna lie. I was curious if time and distance would affect my attraction to her. All it took was two seconds to debunk the theory, leaving it dead in the water.

“Hey, man, I’m gonna shower, then we can go out,” Everett announces beside me. He had to pick me up at the airport straight from hockey practice, thanks to my flight’s early arrival. After I jokingly asked if he’d be cool if I took Fin on a date while I was visiting, he shot me down flat. I figured he’d watch me like a hawk while I’m here, so the fact he’s willing to leave me alone with her while he showers must prove he bought it. That I was lying. That I didn’t mean it. And maybe I didn’t. Maybe I shouldn’t. I shake off the thought and tuck my hands into my jean’s pockets.

“I’m sorry. Did you say you want to go out?” Finley interjects. “You two are gonna ditch me? Rude.”

“We could always stay in,” I offer. “Play a game or something, then go out tomorrow night?” I turn to Ev. “Not gonna lie. I’m pretty wiped.”

Like the Fourth of July, Finley’s stormy, almond-shaped eyes light up. “I am a hundred and ten percent on board with this idea. I’ll get the cards.”

As she darts away, Everett squeezes the back of his neck and watches her go, calling out, “I didn’t say yes!” She doesn’t even bother acknowledging him. Shaking his head, he turns to me. “I’ll be back in ten. You good?”

“Yeah, man. I’ll hang out down here.”

“Not gonna hit on my sister, right?”

I lift my hands in defense. “It was a joke.”

“A bad joke.” He shoots me a glare, but it soon turns into a smirk. “I’ll be down in a few.”

The stairs creak beneath his weight as he strides up them, leaving me alone in the family room. I’ve been here a few times. The place is nice. It reminds me of their cabin back in Lockwood Heights. Same massive fireplace in the family room. Same epic kitchen. The only real difference between the cabin and this place is the location of the bedrooms. At the cabin, they’re on the same floor. Here? I glance at the staircase where Everett disappeared when Finley appears a few seconds later.

Flashing the red deck of cards in her hand, she asks, “Wanna play BS?”

I nod. “Yeah, sure.”

She motions for me to sit on the leather couch as she kneels at the coffee table and begins splitting the deck in two, leaving five cards in a separate pile. BS, er, Bullshit, is a simple card game. The goal is to get rid of your cards as quickly as possible by playing one or more cards face down in the center of the table and stating which cards you played. The player can either tell the truth or lie through their ass about which cards they play. It’s the opposing player's job to decide whether or not the person is lying. If they decide you’re full of shit, they call it out. If Bullshit is called, the cards are shown and one of the players winds up taking the cards. First person to get rid of all their cards wins.

“So…I heard about the Tornadoes contract,” Fin says, me ntioning the NHL team I signed with last week as she deals the cards. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you sad you’re gonna have to play against Ev’s team? I heard the Rockets are pretty badass.”

I shrug. “Not too worried about the Rockets, since I have a few years until I’ll have to think about it. For now, I’m gonna focus on college and LAU, where I get to play with Ev, so…”

Ev and I have both been accepted to Lockwood Ames University, along with the rest of our friends, and damn if I’m not excited to play hockey and share a place with everyone. Me, Ev, Mav, Archer. It’s gonna be amazing. As for our NHL contracts? Well. We’ll get there when we get there.

“Good point,” Finley offers. “Can I tell you how jealous I am that he gets to move back to Lockwood Heights while I have to stay here in Boringville?”

With a low laugh, I reach for my half of the cards and begin sorting them by number. “Come on, this place can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Debatable,” she humphs when a phone buzzes. I check my cell to see if it’s mine, and Fin does the same. Taking her cell from her back pocket, she nibbles the edge of her bottom lip, fighting a shy smile as she looks at her notification. The sight pulls in my gut, and my brows dip.

“Who are you texting?” I ask.

She glances up from her phone, but her attention falls right back to the screen. “Hmm?”

“I said, who are you texting?”

“Oh, a guy from school.”

“A guy from school, huh?” I scoot off the couch and onto the floor beside her. As if she has something to hide, she pulls her phone closer to her chest, her thumbs flying across the screen. Curiosity piqued, I tilt my head. “I thought this place was Boringville.”

Her lips purse. “Okay, maybe there’s a perk or two around here.”

Dylan, my little sister and Finley’s best friend, mentioned Finley found a guy friend at school. I assumed he was gay, but all it takes is one look at the girl in front of me to piece the truth together.

She’s interested in him. Really interested.

“You sure you’re old enough to be dating?” I ask.

She shoots me a look. “I’m sorry, are you my father or my brother’s best friend?”

“Hey,” I protest. “Give me a little more credit. I thought we were friends, too.”

Her gaze narrows, and she studies me carefully.

“What, we’re not friends?” I challenge. Fuck, it shouldn’t hurt, but, uh, what the hell?

“I mean, you’re more like a pain in the butt,” she offers dryly, “but I guess I’ll let you claim the title.”

“Gee, thanks.”

I almost forgot how sassy she is. The girl has had no filter since before she could walk. I should know. We’ve known each other our entire lives. Everett's my best friend, but with him a little older than me and Finley being Dylan's age, I always considered myself her friend, too. Only seeing them a few times a year since their mom took a new job far away from everyone else caused more than physical distance. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but where this girl's concerned, it only leaves me on edge.

With a wry grin, she bumps her shoulder with mine. “I’m teasing. You know you’re my favorite, Griff.” Phone buzzing, she looks back at the screen, distracted again.

Favorite, my ass .

“So, has Ev kicked the shit out of your little friend?” I prod.

“No.” She rolls her eyes, hits send on whatever response she’d typed, then sets her phone face down in her lap. “Not yet, anyway.”

I chuckle softly. “Does that mean I get to do the honors?”

“Pretty sure it’s never been your job, either.”

“Oh, it isn’t?”

“Nope. Besides, you’re too nice to beat up some guy all because he thinks I’m pretty.”

My heart thumps faster. “He thinks you’re pretty?”

“I mean, all guys think I’m pretty.” She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder and tacks on a pointed look. “Right?”

I don’t know how she does it. How she rides the line of being annoying and arrogant and sassy and cute as a fucking button.

“Yes, you’re very pretty, Fin.” My attention falls to her pouty lips for a split second, but I quickly pull my head out of my ass, reminding myself where the hell I am and who the hell I’m talking to, adding, “And humble.”

She laughs. “You know me too well. But even if you didn’t, my point stands. Friends don’t beat up other friends' boyfriends.” Hesitating, she glances at the cards lying on the white oak coffee table. “Friends also don’t get mad at other friends when the first friend ditches the second friend to hang out with a guy…”

My eyes bulge. “You’re ditching me for this guy?”

“I mean, ditching is probably a strong word.”

“It was your word, not mine,” I counter.

“Okay, you make a good point, but regardless, I’m not ditching you. I’m…thinking about taking a rain check on the game. ”

“Thinking about it, huh?”

She grimaces, her nose scrunching. “Maybe?”

Maybe.

Maybe means yes. The realization shouldn’t be a hit to my ego, but it is. I know I’m only her brother’s best friend, but I haven’t seen this girl in months, and she’s ditching me for a guy she could see every other day of the week? What am I? Chopped liver?

“What’s his name anyway?” I ask.

“Drew.”

“Drew,” I repeat.

“Yes. Drew,” she volleys. “What, did I stutter?”

No, she didn't. The girl doesn't stumble over anything. Nah, she charges in full force with zero hesitation, wearing her confidence like a second skin and doing nothing half-assed. Including dating, apparently. The idea shouldn't bother me, but it does. And I don't exactly care to witness it firsthand.

“And this…Drew”—my expression sours, and I lean into it, hoping she buys the response as over-the-top sarcasm or some shit—“is better company than me?”

“I mean, I get to kiss Drew without the guise of a bet, so I’m gonna go with…yeah.” She winks. “He’s a lot better company than you.” Her smile stretches. “He’s also a better kisser.” My jaw drops, pulling a laugh from her until she waves me off. “Okay, okay. If it makes you feel any better, I was his first kiss, so I basically taught him all he knows. And in a weird way, I have you to thank for it.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better at all,” I counter, remembering the last time we played Truth or Dare and wound up kissing. It wasn’t much—barely a peck. But I could’ve sworn she lingered, and damn, if the memory hasn’t been taunting me for months.

“Why?” Finley asks. “Because I passed along all the knowledge I gained from our kisses during Truth or Dare to the guy who sits by me in English?”

“You saying I was your first?” I ask.

“Technically, Chad Godfrey in kindergarten was my first, but sure.” She squeezes my forearm and bats her long lashes up at me. “I’ll let you claim the title.”

“Friend and first kiss,” I muse, cocking my head. “Yet here you are, ditching me.”

The girl has the decency to look contrite as her teeth dig into the inside of her bottom lip. “Like I said, ditching’s a strong word.”

“Still doesn’t make me feel any better,” I grumble.

“Of course it doesn’t. Didn’t make Ev feel better, either,” she adds with a laugh. “Don’t worry, though. Between Ev, you, and the rest of the guys, my expectations on how I deserve to be treated are through the roof, and I think you’d approve of him.”

Seriously. What the hell happened while I was away? I stare at the cards, forcing my grip to loosen so I don’t crumple the shit out of them as I clear my throat.

“Him,” I repeat.

“Yeah. Drew.” She rolls her eyes again. “Keep up, Griff.”

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t picture you as someone who’d be interested in dating and shit.”

“I mean, maybe not the shit part yet, but yeah. I guess I am interested.” She scoots closer. “Anyway,”—her lips brush against my cheek—“it’s good seeing you again. I’ve missed you.”

The feel of her mouth against my skin fucks with my head, making my jaw tighten. I shouldn’t crave it. Hell, there’s nothing to crave. She’s a friend. Only a friend. Not even a friend, apparently. Just Everett’s little sister. Turning my head, I take in how close she is. How easy it would be to capture her mouth with mine. To make her stay. “Missed you, too, Fin.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, for sure.” She stands, and I watch her walk toward the front door. “Keep it PG, all right?”

“Yeah, okay, Dad .” Wiggling her fingers back and forth as she walks out the door, she adds, “Toodle-oo!”