6 - Avery #2
I nod because it’s not like I need a babysitter anyway. For a second, I lean back against the bar, letting the noise settle around me again now that my buffer is gone, my eyes drifting back toward the roped-off tables, deciding where to go next.
It doesn’t take long.
I spot Becca across the room, tucked into a conversation with a girl I vaguely recognize and a guy I definitely don’t. No one is hanging on to him, though, which is promising for me, considering I’ve just decided I need a distraction.
I push off the counter and make my way over, introducing myself to the girl, whose name I immediately forget. Becca turns to me, a knowing grin on her lips, “And this is Luke.”
He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and the kind of effortlessly put-together that suggests he didn’t try very hard and still got it right. His attention shifts to me as soon as Becca says my name.
“Hi,” he says, a little slower, like he’s already decided he’s interested.
“Hi,” I echo, letting my gaze drag over him longer than necessary before meeting his eyes again.
I can work with this.
“Friend of Becca’s?” I ask, leaning toward him.
“Friend of a friend.”
“Dangerous category,” I reply lightly. “You never really know what you’re getting when it comes to a friend of a friend.”
He smiles. “And what do you think you’re getting with me?”
I shrug, taking a small step closer. “I guess I’ll have to stick around to find out.”
Becca makes a noise beside me, like she’s trying not to laugh, but I refuse to glance at her when I already know the look she’s probably giving me.
But hey, I said I’d be nice.
The conversation flows, and a teasing edge slips into his tone. His body angles toward me more and more as the minutes pass. It should feel natural, but tonight, I’m forcing every step.
Until my eyes shift across the room again to find Grayson in the same corner, still talking to Sloane, her hand brushing against his arm as they laugh.
I drag my attention back to Luke.
“What do you do?” He asks.
I blink once, trying to focus on his question. “Play soccer.”
“Explains the legs.” His eyes drop briefly to them before flicking back up.
I huff out a quiet laugh. “Bold.”
“Honest.” He grins, stepping a fraction closer, his hand brushing lightly against my arm.
I don’t pull away. Why would I? Maybe I just need to rip the band-aid off. If Luke’s here, and Becca knows him, he’s probably a good guy. He could end the drought.
This is exactly what I do. Or at least, what I need to do. Fun. Easy. Nothing more.
I lean in, letting my fingers skim his wrist when I laugh at something he says. I’m close enough to blur the line between casual and intentional. Our conversation turns charged, teetering the line between casual and more without ever fully crossing it.
And still, my eyes move. Again.
They’re still there. Still talking.
I look away harder this time, irritation flaring hotter, because I don’t know why the hell I keep looking at them.
If a distraction is what I need, then fine. I’ll distract myself.
“Come on,” Luke says, his hand settling more confidently at my waist as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to be heard over the music. “You’re barely paying attention to me.”
I meet his eyes, letting a small, apologetic smile curve my mouth. “That’s not true.”
His hand tightens at my waist, pulling me in so there’s no space left between us, and I let it happen.
Letting myself fall into the rhythm of someone else’s attention and interest has always been easy. Knowing that it never needed to be more made leaning in simple. Uncomplicated. Just like this should be now.
My gaze flicks over his shoulder.
The corner is empty.
I freeze.
They’re gone.
A sharp, unexpected flare of something shoots up my spine, and before I can even figure out what it is, Luke’s hand is sliding up my side, his other hand lifting to my jaw as he tilts my face toward his.
“Avery,” he murmurs, like he’s asking without really asking.
I should lean in. There’s no reason not to.
He’s hot and interested. He’s exactly the kind of guy I’m into, and this is exactly what I wanted when I came over here.
Simple.
But my head’s not in it, and my body is crawling at that contact.
His lips are a breath away when it hits, that same irritation spiking again, hotter this time, tangled up with a feeling I don’t even want to name.
“Wait,” I say quickly, pulling back.
He pauses, blinking slightly. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I nod, too fast, already stepping out of his hold. “I need to find the bathroom.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah,” I say, already backing away. “Sorry. I’ll find you.”
He nods, stepping back, and I don’t give him time to say anything else before I turn, slipping through the crowd a little too quickly, my pulse racing for no good reason.
I walk down the hallway toward the bathroom until the bass fades into the background. But when I get to the bathroom, I’m still antsy, so I keep walking toward the back exit.
Fresh air. That’s what I need, just some air and space to clear my head. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to restore my sanity.
When I push outside, my breath catches in the cold air. I immediately tilt my head back and close my eyes, letting the chill wash over me. Finally, after a few deep breaths, I walk down the steps and turn into the alley, prepared to expel all thoughts of Grayson out of my head for good.
“Hi, Chaos.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.