“Definitely good,” she says, almost under her breath. Heat shoots straight through me.
“Some of us peaked after high school,” I joke, mostly to keep from saying something else.
Her smile falters for a second, that fragile look from the other day at my shop returning. “Yeah. Some of us did.”
Paige claps her hands together. “Alright, nostalgia hour’s over. Who’s getting the next round?”
We migrate toward the pool tables, our little group expanding to make room. It feels weirdly easy, falling back into a rhythm with people I mostly knew as background characters in my teenage years.
I show Marcus the shot he’s lining up is trash and lean in to adjust his cue. Rachel heckles me from the sidelines. Macy andKyle start some heated debate about which local brewery makes the best IPA.
But, out of the corner of my eye, I keep track of Jenna. I couldn’t take my eyes off her if I wanted to.
At first, she’s right in the mix, laughing, sipping from a bright-pink cocktail, her cheeks flushed. But as the night wears on and the drinks keep coming, she drifts a little. Her smiles take a beat longer to show up. Her gaze goes unfocused when she thinks no one’s looking.
But I’m looking. I’m always looking.
She wanders over eventually, swaying just a little as she comes to stand at my side.
“Hey,” she says, drawing out the word. “You’re the chocolate guy.”
I bite back a smile. “Still am, last time I checked.”
She leans in a fraction, close enough that her shoulder brushes my arm. She smells like citrus now too—probably from her drink—layered over the green apple and something sweet that’s just her.
“You know what’s funny?” she says, her words a little looser around the edges. “I’ve lived in this town my whole life. Thought I knew everybody.”
“World’s full of surprises,” I say.
She tips her head back to look up at me, her eyes slightly glassy. “You’re very… tall now.”
I chuckle. “I was tall then too, Jenna.”
Her brows pinch. “Yeah, but now it’s like… on purpose.” Her hand makes a vague gesture from my chest downward that I try very hard not to interpret. “You talk different. And you have this whole…” She waves her hand again, up and down my torso. “Thing.”
I arch a brow. “A thing.”
“Yeah,” she says solemnly. “Like a… hot chocolate daddy thing.”
Marcus, lining up a shot nearby, misses it completely as he chokes on a laugh.
I scratch the scruff along my jawline with a smirk. “Hot chocolate daddy, huh?”
She nods, looking very pleased with herself. “You’re hot. You make chocolate. And you have this…” She squints. “Bossy, take-charge energy. Daddy vibes like the boyfriends in my books.”
If she keeps looking at me with those big hazel eyes while calling meDaddy, I’m going to do something very stupid right here in front of everyone.
Macy appears at her other side, placing a steadying hand on her elbow. “Okay, Jenna,” she says, laughing. “You’re harassing the nice chocolate man.”
“I am not harassing him,” Jenna insists, swaying. “I’m complimenting him.”
“I’ll allow it,” I say with a dopey grin, unable to help myself.
Jenna beams at me, bright and tipsy.
Macy rolls her eyes. “The singles table is right over there, babe. Come keep me company before I die of secondhand embarrassment.”
She gently tugs her friend away. Jenna goes, but not before looking over her shoulder at me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
