Page 27 of On the Breakaway

I come to my senses and regret asking immediately.

Forcing his attention back to me, I grab his arm before he realizes who I was asking about. “Forget I asked.” My smile is tight, but he nods.

Someone starts yelling his name from across the room, loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

“Shit,” he glances toward the rookie flagging him down. “I have to go take care of that.”

I nod because it’s not like I need a babysitter anyway. For a second, I lean back against the bar, letting the noise settle around me again now that my buffer is gone, my eyes drifting back toward the roped-off tables, deciding where to go next.

It doesn’t take long.

I spot Becca across the room, tucked into a conversation with a girl I vaguely recognize and a guy I definitely don’t. No one is hanging on to him, though, which is promising for me, considering I’ve just decided I need a distraction.

I push off the counter and make my way over, introducing myself to the girl, whose name I immediately forget. Becca turns to me, a knowing grin on her lips, “And this is Luke.”

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and the kind of effortlessly put-together that suggests he didn’t try very hard and still got it right. His attention shifts to me as soon as Becca says my name.

“Hi,” he says, a little slower, like he’s already decided he’s interested.

“Hi,” I echo, letting my gaze drag over him longer than necessary before meeting his eyes again.

I can work with this.

“Friend of Becca’s?” I ask, leaning toward him.

“Friend of a friend.”

“Dangerous category,” I reply lightly. “You never really know what you’re getting when it comes to a friend of a friend.”

He smiles. “And what do you think you’re getting with me?”

I shrug, taking a small step closer. “I guess I’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Becca makes a noise beside me, like she’s trying not to laugh, but I refuse to glance at her when I already know the look she’s probably giving me.

But hey, I said I’d be nice.

The conversation flows, and a teasing edge slips into his tone. His body angles toward me more and more as the minutes pass. It should feel natural, but tonight, I’m forcing every step.

Until my eyes shift across the room again to find Grayson in the same corner, still talking to Sloane, her hand brushing against his arm as they laugh.

I drag my attention back to Luke.

“What do you do?” He asks.

I blink once, trying to focus on his question. “Play soccer.”

“Explains the legs.” His eyes drop briefly to them before flicking back up.

I huff out a quiet laugh. “Bold.”

“Honest.” He grins, stepping a fraction closer, his hand brushing lightly against my arm.

I don’t pull away. Why would I? Maybe I just need to rip the band-aid off. If Luke’s here, and Becca knows him, he’s probably a good guy. He could end the drought.

This is exactly what I do. Or at least, what I need to do. Fun. Easy. Nothing more.

I lean in, letting my fingers skim his wrist when I laugh at something he says. I’m close enough to blur the line between casual and intentional. Our conversation turns charged, teetering the line between casual and more without ever fully crossing it.