Chase clenched his fists under the table, dragging in a slow breath. “I never said—”
Sara cut him off with a knowing look. “You didn’t have to.”
His stomach was a damn wrecking ball, slamming into his ribs, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away. Savannah looked different, yet exactly the same. More polished. More grown. More… untouchable.
And yet, the way she was looking at him?
It told him she was feeling every damn bit of this moment, too.
Jaxon leaned back, shaking his head with a grin. "So, what’s the plan?"
Chase scoffed, his voice rough. "The plan? There is no plan."
Sara hummed, giving him a look that made it clear she didn’t believe him. "Bullshit. You’re a man with a plan, Chase Montgomery. You always have been."
Chase dragged a hand down his face, feeling the weight of everything. "I don’t even know what I’d say to her."
Jaxon shrugged. "Start with hello."
Chase huffed out a breath, his fingers tapping against the table as his eyes drifted back to Savannah. "Yeah. Easy. Hello. After all these years. After everything. Like that’s gonna fucking work."
Sara smirked, lifting her glass. "Well, the way you’re looking at her? She won’t be the one walking away first."
Chase swallowed hard, jaw tightening as Savannah took a slow sip of her drink, eyes never leaving his.
He was fucked.
The weight of the past pressed down on him, memories colliding with reality in a way that made his chest ache. He could almost hear her laugh, almost feel the heat of those stolen nights, the whispered conversations under starlit skies, the taste of goodbye that had never really settled.
And now, just when he thought he had buried it, just when he had convinced himself that history had been rewritten—
She was here, rewriting it all over again.
Chase leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table as if steadying himself.
Jaxon let out a low whistle. "Man, you look like you just seen a ghost."
He had.
And she was more real than ever.
9
Collision Course
Malloryreturnedtothetable, practically bouncing into her seat, her face lit up with barely contained excitement. She set Savannah’s drink down with a dramatic flourish and leaned in conspiratorially.
"Okay, check it out," she whispered, eyes gleaming, "that ridiculously hot guy sitting over there with a couple of people. And I swear to God, he just looked this way. Twice."
Savannah barely reached for her drink before she felt it—a shift in the air, a strange, unexpected tension that wrapped around her chest before she even turned around. Her fingers curled tightly around the glass, moisture from the condensation slick against her palm.
She should’ve ignored it. Should’ve rolled her eyes and laughed at Mallory’s ridiculous matchmaking attempts. But something in Mallory’s voice—some edge—made her pause.
And then she looked.
And everything inside her unraveled.
Chase fucking Montgomery.
