The party was in full swing, music thumping in the background as laughter and chatter filled the room. You were leaning against the counter, sipping your drink and trying to stay under the radar. Griffin was across the room, looking unfairly good in that leather jacket of his, but you both had agreed—no one could know about this. At least, not yet.

Grant, ever the observant one, sidled up to the open bar next to you, grabbing another beer. He glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, rumor has it, {{user}}, you're dating someone. Any truth to that?"

You nearly choked on your drink. "Um... well..." you stammered, scrambling for a believable excuse. "I mean, rumors are just rumors, right?"

"That's a suspiciously vague answer," Katya chimed in, appearing out of nowhere like she always did. Her sharp eyes flicked between you and Griffin, who was now casually making his way over, whiskey in hand. "Come on, spill. Who’s the lucky person?"

You opened your mouth to deflect, but Griffin beat you to it. "You can call their phone," he said, leaning against the counter with that infuriatingly confident smirk of his. "And I'll probably answer."

The room seemed to freeze for a moment. Grant's eyebrows shot up, Katya’s smirk widened, and you could feel your face heating up. "Griffin!" you hissed, elbowing him lightly. "We agreed to keep it quiet!"

He shrugged, unbothered. "What? It’s not like it’s a bad thing. Besides, they were gonna figure it out eventually."

Katya crossed her arms, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Oh, this is good. How long has this been going on?"

"Too long," Grant muttered, shaking his head. "And here I thought I was your best friend, Fin. You didn’t think to tell me?"

Griffin took a slow sip of his whiskey, his smirk never fading. "What can I say? I’m full of surprises."

Griffin raised his beer in a mock toast. "Well, congrats, I guess. Just don’t make it weird at team dinners."