Chase’s gaze lifted mid-conversation.
And landed directly on Tommy.
Everything narrowed.
Not dramatic.
Just immediate.
Green eyes locked on blue.
Tommy felt the same electric recognition from the hotel.
Only this time there was nowhere for it to hide.
Heat rushed up his neck.
He didn’t look away.
He couldn’t.
Chase’s public smile faltered slightly , not gone, just softer at the edges.
Like he’d forgotten the script.
Tommy became aware of Logan beside him again.
The warm pressure of Logan’s hand at his back.
The quiet steadiness of it.
I’m here.
Tommy swallowed.
And across the room, Chase set his drink down and started toward them.
Chapter Eight
Tommy
Tommy made it through exactly three conversations before he needed air.
Someone’s aunt had cornered him near the buffet with a story about when he was ten and fell into the neighbor’s koi pond. He nodded in the right places, laughed when she laughed, but the smile stretched thin across his face like it was being held there with tape.
Logan noticed before Tommy said anything.
Of course he did.
His hand shifted slightly at Tommy’s back, a quiet check-in.
“You want air?” Logan murmured.
Tommy nodded once.
“Yeah.”
Logan squeezed his shoulder, steady and grounding.
