The dartboard loomed behind us, and my gaze snagged on it before I could stop myself.
A memory surfaced, unwelcome and vivid.
Last year. Same bar. Same dartboard.
“Hey,” Ledger said softly, pulling me out of it. “You okay?”
I blinked. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About darts?” he guessed, following my line of sight.
I snorted. “Is it that obvious?”
A slow smile curved his mouth. “A little.”
Before I could respond, Ridge was already on his feet. “Game on,” he announced. “Ledger versus Roxie. For old times’ sake.”
My stomach flipped.
Old times’ sake was one way to put it.
The last time Ledger and I had stood on opposite sides of a dartboard in this bar, it had ended with raised voices, bruised egos, and me storming out into the night, furious at him and more furious at myself for caring.We’d been all sharp edges back then. Competitive, defensive, and too quick to assume the worst of each other.
Ledger glanced at me, eyebrows raised, not challenging. Asking.
The difference mattered more than it should have.
I wavered, memories tangling with the present. Part of me wanted to say no. To avoid reopening something that had once split open so easily. But another part, the part that had noticed how his hand found my back instinctively tonight, how he’d laughed more easily, how something between us had softened, wondered if maybe this time would be different.
Ifwewere different.
I exhaled slowly, making a decision that felt bigger than darts. “Fine.”
Ledger’s mouth curved into a slow smile, like he’d felt the weight of it too.
We took our places in front of the board. He handed me the darts, our fingers brushing just briefly, and something settled into place.
The game was close. Annoyingly so.
Ledger still had that infuriating determination when he played, jaw tight, eyes sharp. He leaned in just a little too close when it was my turn, murmuring commentary under his breath that made my pulse jump.
“Careful,” he said as I lined up a shot. “You always rush when you’re irritated.”
I shot him a glare—and nailed the bullseye.
His grin turned feral. “Oh, it’s like that.”
Laughter bubbled up, surprising me. The tension that had once fueled anger now sparked something else. Something warm. Exciting.
We were tied when a guy at the bar leaned too close, eyes sliding over me in a way that made my skin crawl.
“Need help aiming, sweetheart?” he slurred.
I stiffened, fingers tightening around the dart.
Before I could say anything, Ledger stepped in.
“She’s good,” he said calmly. Too calmly. His body angled subtly between us, cutting off the guy’s line of sight like it was instinct. Like he’d done this before. “Back off.”
