"You're not even trying anymore," Mark said.
"Sure I am."
"You haven't answered a single question in the last three rounds."
"I've been thinking."
"About Riley."
Grant didn't deny it.
Riley and Hannah won by two points, and the whole booth erupted in cheers. Riley was laughing, accepting high-fives, looking flushed and happy and beautiful, and Grant's heart did that complicated thing again.
He was so gone for her it wasn't even funny.
The bar got louder as more people arrived—Saturday night in Pine Valley meant everyone came out. Grant was helping Mark order another round when he heard a voice that made his spine stiffen.
"Well, well. Riley Monroe. You get more beautiful every time I see you."
Grant turned to see Brad Carlson leaning against their booth—older, softer around the middle, clearly drunk, wearing that same cocky smile that had annoyed Grant in high school.
Riley's expression shifted to carefully neutral. "Brad. Hi."
"Hey there." Brad slid into the booth—into the space Grant had just vacated—sitting way too close to Riley. "Heard you were back in town. Couldn't believe it till I saw you."
"Just for the holidays."
"Shame. Town's better with you in it." Brad's hand landed on the booth behind Riley's shoulders, not quite touching but close enough to make Grant's jaw clench. "You look amazing. City life must be treating you well."
"It's fine."
"Better than fine, looks like." Brad leaned in, his voice dropping. "You seeing anyone? Because I just got back fromDenver myself, and I'd love to catch up properly. Maybe grab dinner while you're in town?"
Riley shifted away slightly. "Actually, I'm?—"
"Come on. For old times' sake?" Brad's smile turned sly. "We had some fun back in the day, didn't we? Senior year, that party at Miller's farm?"
Grant's hands curled into fists. He didn't remember Riley and Brad ever being a thing, but the way Brad was looking at her—like he had a claim, like they had history—made Grant want to throw something; like a punch to Brad’s face.
"Brad, that was one dance at a party ten years ago," Riley said, her voice tight.
"Still. Best dance of my life." Brad's hand dropped to her shoulder, squeezing. "What do you say? Dinner tomorrow?"
That was enough.
Grant crossed the bar, Mark calling something after him that he didn't hear. He stopped at the booth, and Brad looked up with a lazy smile.
"Lawson. Hey, man. Long time no see."
"Brad." Grant's voice came out flat. "That's my seat."
"Oh, sorry." Brad didn't move. "Just catching up with Riley here. We go way back."
"Do you."
"Sure do." Brad's arm stayed draped behind Riley's shoulders. "Riley and I were just talking about getting dinner. You don't mind, do you? I mean, you two aren't together or anything anymore, right?"
Riley opened her mouth, but Brad kept talking.
