I can’t help but grin, watching them, both of them completely tone-deaf and somehow owning it.
I take another sip of my drink. Nights like this are supposed to feel easy. Loud music, too many drinks, your friends making idiots of themselves on stage.
And mostly, it does.
Except for the part where I keep glancing toward the door.
I scan the room again, that stupid drop of disappointment settling in my chest when I still don’t see him here.
I edge a little closer to Ryan, lowering my voice. “Psst. You seen Hayes?”
Ryan doesn’t look away from the trainwreck on stage. “Didn’t come,” he says over the noise. “He said he needed rest.”
I nod slowly, pretending that makes sense.
Rest.
Bullshit.
He’s been dodging me all week.
Ever since the locker room.
Ever since I touched him and he?—
I take a sip of my drink, the alcohol burning a little on the way down. Not enough to distract me, clearly, because the memory plays in my head again.
The way he tensed under my hands. The way he flinched when he realized I’d noticed. The way I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
I drag a hand through my hair, scanning the room for something—anything—to pull me out of my head.
My gaze lands on the pool table across the bar where Aurora is bent over the felt, lining up a shot, her ass in the air and that trademark death-glare in her eyes.
And standing right behind her is Cole, his tattooed arm braced on the table next to hers, whispering something in her ear, one hand sliding to her waist.
My brows shoot up.
Well… that’s new.
I linger longer than I should, waiting for her to elbow him or stab him with the cue. But she doesn’t. Just tilts her head a fraction and listens.
I huff out a laugh under my breath.
Maybe hell really did freeze over and those two sorted their shit out.
I push myself onto my feet and make my way toward the bar, weaving through the crowd. I quickly ask the bartender for another beer, then turn to wait.
I catch a flash of blonde hair and glance down as a girl sidles up next to me. “You’re Logan, right?” she says with a smile I know all too well is flirty as hell.
“In the flesh.”
“I’ve seen you play,” she says, her smile widening. “You’re, like… really fast.”
I rest an elbow on the bar, a grin sliding into place. “That’s not what they usually say.”
She laughs, leaning in a little, and I should be reveling in this shit, giving her my number or asking for hers, but my focus is already slipping. My brain’s still buzzing, restless, chasing something else entirely.
My eyes drift toward the door once again, but this time I freeze.