“You ready?” Penny asked, spinning once for effect.
Arden smiled. Not just at her, but at the moment. At the promise of what the night could be.
“Let’sgo.”
Maybe she’d look up and find him already watching. Those gray eyes never missed much, and tonight, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be missed.
CHAPTER 24
A Night of Trivial Pursuits
The brewery was alive with sound—low music, bursts of laughter, chairs scraping over old wood. Outside, golden light spilled across the cobblestones, more invitation than ambience. Inside, string lights drooped from the rafters, their glow softening the sharp lines of brick and wood.
The air was thick with hops and fresh bread, edged by something sweeter she couldn’t quite place—caramel or maybe toasted sugar. Rich. Comforting. Like a memory baked into the walls.
Arden kept pace behind Penny, who moved quickly through the crowd, lavender-streaked curls bouncing wildly, violet dress catching light with every step. Penny didn’t just enter a room; she rearranged it. People moved for her without knowing why, their smiles lingering long after she passed.
They claimed a table near the back, just enough distance to take the edge off the noise, but close to the heartbeat of the room. Penny tossed her jacket onto a chair and surveyed her domain, like she’d been crowned queen of the misfits and liked the weight of the crown.
“This,” she declared, arms wide, “is the perfect launch point for our trivia world domination.”
Arden slid into her seat, lifting a brow. “You’ve already decided we’re winning?”
“Winning isn’t something I decide. It’s something I am.” Penny’s grin turned sly. “Let’s be real, though. It’s the beer I’m loyal to. Victory’s just the glitter garnish.”
Before Arden could fire back, two familiar figures stepped into view.
Gideon.
He moved like he owned the room but had no need to prove it: calm, assured, his presence quiet but absolute. Black button-down. Dark jeans. Broad shoulders relaxed, eyes sharp. When his gaze found hers, it held—for a second too long—and the flicker behind it wasn’t quite amusement, wasn’t quite warning.
Next to him, Dan was all easy swagger and unbothered charm. His eyes caught the light, brown with an amber gleam they got when he was amused. He stood like he owned the moment, hands tucked in his pockets, easy and unhurried.
He reached out for Penny’s hand without fanfare, that crooked grin sliding into place with practiced ease. “You must be Penelope. The way Arden talks about you, I was expecting fireworks the minute you walked in.”
Penny’s grin widened as she shook his hand. “And you must be Daniel. The way she talks about you, I was expecting someone taller.”
Dan let out a laugh, unoffended. At well over six feet, the jab was pure sport. “Touche. But at least I bring the charm. And let’s lose the formalities. Only my dentist calls me Daniel.”
“And only my mother calls me Penelope,” she countered.
Gideon slid into the seat beside Arden without a word, his presence a quiet gravity that pulled her awareness tighter. She didn’t have to look. He was there. Warm. Steady. His cologne lingered in the space between them. Her pulse kicked. She told herself it was nothing.
Dan leaned forward, mock-serious. “Alright. Ground rules. Arden and Gideon versus Penelope and me. Balance of power. Keeps it fair.”
Penny scoffed, arms crossed. “Fair? Please. That’s totally weighted in our favor.” Her sharp eyes cut to Gideon, teasing. “No offense, but you don’t exactly radiate trivia night energy.”
Gideon’s brow lifted. “And you don’t exactly radiate humility.”
Penny’s grin widened. “Oh, he’s got teeth. This just got interesting.”
“The game hasn’t even started,” Dan said, flashing Arden a grin, “and I already know this is going to be good.”
Arden rolled her eyes, but her smile slipped in anyway. “You two are out of control.”
“And yet, here you are,” Dan said, raising his glass. “To victory. And to Penelope terrorizing half the room.”
Penny clinked her drink against his with wicked delight. “Equal-opportunity menace, thank you very much.”
