With one final, desperate pep talk "You will NOT die, you are a strong, confident woman, and if you panic, just order a shot and pray"—as she threw open the car door.
Her legs felt like jelly as she crossed the street, her pulse a chaotic drumbeat against her ribs.
Savannah stepped inside The Hollow, her pulse a frantic drumbeat in her ears.
The Hollow smelled like aged whiskey and warm candlelight, a heady mix of nostalgia and temptation that wrapped around her the moment she stepped inside. Neon lights flickered against the exposed brick, the hum of conversation rising and falling beneath the occasional burst of laughter.
And there, in the center of it all—was Chase.
Her breath stilled.
He hadn’t seen her yet.
But she saw him. And she felt it.
That undeniable, gravitational pull. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly he existed, how he commanded attention without even trying. People naturally gravitated toward him, drawn in by his easy confidence, his laugh—a sound she hadn’t heard in over a year but still recognized instantly. He moved through the crowd like he belonged there, every nod of recognition, every quick grin, sending a fresh wave of longing through her.
Mallory caught sight of her from across the room, lifting a subtle brow as if to say well? Motioning for her to come over.
Savannah forced herself forward, her heart hammering with every step.
By the time she reached the bar, her mouth was dry, her throat tight.
"Drink?" Gus asked, leaning on the bar in front of her.
Savannah’s mouth was too dry to answer, so she just nodded.
Gus, however, had already noticed something else.
His gaze flicked between Savannah and the man holding court across the room.
Savannah watching Chase.
Chase, oblivious.
A slow, knowing smirk curved Gus’s lips.
“Well, damn,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head like he had just put together the final piece of a puzzle.
Savannah tore her gaze away from Chase long enough to glance at Gus. “What?”
Gus wiped his hands on a bar towel, looking entirely too amused.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just—this is about to get real interesting.”
Before she could ask what the hell that meant, Mallory spoke.
“You okay?”
Savannah turned to her, but Mallory wasn’t looking at her.
She was looking at him.
And Savannah saw it.
The realization hit her square in the chest—Mallory liked Chase.
Not in a serious way, but—in a Mallory way. The way her eyes lingered on him, just a little longer than necessary. The way her lips curved just slightly as she watched him move through the crowd, laughing, joking, absolutely thriving in this moment.
