Two Wedding Crashers (Dating By Numbers, #2)

by Meghan Quinn

Griffin smirks to himself, cutting fudge flavor after fudge flavor. “You know, Griffin, what’s with you men? Huh? What makes that little brain of yours tick?” He hands me the first five flavors and I shove them in my mouth, not even caring about the tastes mixing. Despite my mouthful, I say, “Why are you so annoying?” Griffin raises an eyebrow at me. “Well, not you in particular, but men. I mean if I say it’s over, it should be over, right?” “Uh . . .” “And if I want to stop communication”—I shove three more pieces in my mouth—“I should have the right to stop. What’s with this”—two more pieces—“alpha-male pursuit, huh?” I pick up a green piece of fudge and hold it up. “What’s this flavor?” “Key lime pie.” “Oh fuck that.” Inappropriately—because I’m so mature—I toss it back at him. “I want nothing to do with Key lime anything.” I point my finger at Griffin. “Do you hear me? No Key lime.” “Uh, yeah, no Key lime. My mistake.” Poor Griffin, he was right. No one else could handle me at this crazed moment.