“Yeah. I think it’d be epic. I’ve always wanted to give her that day, and what better way to do it than on her birthday?”
“Are we talking about Halle baby’s birthday coming up?” Connor chimes in.
“Don’t call her baby,” Asher snaps at him, his tone sharp.
Madison snickers, her eyes landing on me, and I can’t help the smirk that pulls at my lips. I swear, Connor does it just to wind Asher up, and it works every time. Her laugh hangs in the air, cutting through the tension that’s been building all night. She looks more at ease now, and I hope like hell that when these idiots finally clear out, that calm doesn’t disappear.
Shaking my head, I point at Connor. “Stop teasing him. And yes, I was thinking we could road trip it out to Ashfalls. Hit their arcade for a few hours, then grab burgers and milkshakes at that diner before heading back.”
“Hell yeah, I’m so down for that. Their burgers are so bomb,” Connor says, leaning an elbow on the bar.
Asher’s mouth twitches as his hand drags over his jaw. There’s a shift behind his eyes, something I can’t read, but it’s gone before I can make sense of it.
“There’s also that art store she loves in Ashfalls,” he adds after a beat. “She’d probably want to hit that up too.”
“I’ll work out the details and let ya’ll know, but it’ll just be us and maybe Sarah and Remi.”
Connor straightens at the mention of Sarah, the lazy grin slipping for half a second before he catches himself. Iarch a brow at him in question when Asher nudges my shoulder, glancing toward the door, and back to me with a look that says,Time to go. I nod with a silent thank you. Reaching out, he grabs the back of Connor’s shirt and tugs him toward the exit.
“Dude, what the hell?” Connor yelps, stumbling after him.
“We’re heading out,” Asher says, tone casual, his eyes dart briefly to Madison. “Have fun, you two.”
“Alright, alright, keep your pants on,” Connor grumbles as Asher keeps tugging him.
I chuckle at the sight. They’re not making this awkward at all.
“Wait!” Connor calls, twisting in Asher’s grip, and I send up a silent prayer. “Call and scream if you need me, Queen.”
The door swings shut behind them, Asher’s faint “you idiot” echoing on their way out.
Silence settles over the bar, the low hum of the fridges the only sound left. My pulse kicks up when Madison’s gaze finds mine again. There’s something in her eyes, uncertainty, hesitance, and it knocks the air from my lungs. She has no idea what she does to me. How my skin heats under her stare, how every inch of me aches to close the space between us. To touch her. To earn back the right to. It’s raw, instinctual. She’s it. She’s my future.
“They couldn’t have been less subtle if they tried,” she says with a laugh, the sound light and teasing.
Fuck, I can’t screw this up.That laugh… I need to hear it again and again. I need it to be the sound I drive home to, the sound I fall asleep to. This is my one shot to start making things right with her, to explain myself. If that makes me desperate, so be it. I have no shame in letting the whole world see just how much I need her.
My fingers tighten around the stem of the glass, a small tremor running through my hand. “Wine?” I ask, lifting the glass.
“One drink, Hunter,” she warns with a look that shoots straight to my core. “That’s it.”
“Well then,” I reply with a smirk. “I’d better make it a big one.”
Tipping the bottle, I watch the wine swirl and climb to the brim. The rich red catches the light, shining between us. I steady the glass with a careful hand and slide it toward her, careful not to spill any.
“You’re impossible,” she murmurs, but there’s no heat in her voice, just the faint trace of a smile she tries to hide behind her glass.
I round the bar, my hand grazing the back of her stool—fingers brushing lightly against her spine—before reaching for the one beside her and pulling it out. Her breath hitches, soft but sharp, as I slide onto it, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her. I take a slow sip of my whiskey, the burn grounding me, my eyes never leaving her. She fiddles with the stem of her wine glass, tracing the rim with her thumb, her chest rising and falling heavily as her eyes look anywhere but me.
“Madison,” I drawl, angling my body toward hers.
“Hunter,” she shoots back, voice low and teasing.
I grip the edge of her stool and give a gentle tug. She spins to face me, one arm braced on the bar, the other falling to her lap. My knees frame her, the space between us vanishing as I slide her closer. The scent of wine mingles with her perfume, warm and sweet, invading the air between us. Her pulse jumps at the base of her throat, and I swear it’s matching the rhythm of my own. It’s dizzying, the way everything else fades. My thoughts unravel, leavingnothing but the pull of her, the want and need. For a second, I completely forget why we’re here.
“Tell me why,” she whispers into the space between us.
My mind snaps back, reality crashing over me like cold water. I stare at her, at the understanding in her eyes. She knows this isn’t easy for me. Over the years, she’s been the one I’ve leaned on through the grief of losing Mom. I’ve told little bits of how hard I tried to shield Halle from our stepdad, how his cruel words would cut through her like glass. How I would step in, distract him away from her.
