graffiti

Lyss looked up from her morning coffee, dark circles under her eyes, visible bitterness in her grimace.  “Whatever that thing is in the attic needs to be gone by tonight. I can’t do this anymore, I’m barely sleeping and I’ve half a mind to forgo the whole summer vacation bit and go straight back to New York, pandemic be damned.”

Taking a sip of her third free drink of the night, Lyss glanced over at her phone, ignoring the fourteenth text in a row, Griffin blowing up her phone. He knew it was girl’s night and yet… The blonde rolled her eyes, looking over at her best friend, the bartender already bringing over another drink courtesy of one of the hopeless men trying to get laid. “Did you read the new edition of Elle? Supposedly woven handbags are coming back.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I’m not trying to look like a grandma going to the dollar store.”

Seth didn’t do this. Didn’t meet strange women in restaurants for dinner after chatting on an app. If Griff or Owen knew.... well he’d never hear the end of it. For them, apps were meant for one night stands or their latest hookup. But then again, Seth had always been different, had always wanted something more permanent than one night. Sure, it was fun from time to time - especially after his last fiancee broke things off a week before their wedding, Seth letting his best friends hook him up as a way to drown out the feelings. But he’d always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, something that was resurfacing as he’d healed from the heartbreak. It was with amusement that he watched the woman across from him ramble on, just as attractive as her pictures were on the app. “Please, don’t sweat about it. It’s only a few minutes. Besides, even if you do have the wrong blind date, I think I’d rather be on one with you anyway. I’m Seth.” He grinned, leaning back in his seat slightly, already at ease around Kennedy. “So you own your own business?” He did too, though he wasn’t exactly a founding member.

Maybe it was one of the side effects of living with a smaller dog, but Bryce hadn’t been expecting to be bowled over by bigger dog. Especially not one at the dog park that so eagerly jumped up on him. “It’s fine,” he called, getting to his feet, more preoccupied with finding Slinky than looking over at the other dog’s owner. Bryce had always preferred pitbulls, but when he’d gone to the shelter to adopt his first dog, the poor little chihuahua in the second cage looked so sad and couldn’t stop shaking. Bryce had had him ever since. “Some help you were,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth at the older pup. Turning to face the other owner, Bryce shook his head. Of course she just had to be gorgeous to boot. “No need to exchange insurances. I promise - I’m tougher than I look.”