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I nod, saying nothing as I watch Damon line up his shot. His form is perfect—always has been—and the ball curves exactly as intended, knocking down nine of the ten pins with a satisfying crash.

“Show-off,” Travis mutters, just loud enough for him to hear.

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Damon’s second throw takes out the remaining pin for a spare, and he turns with that cocky half-grin I know all too well. The one that used to make me melt against him in darkened movie theaters and quiet corners of parties.

“What was that?” he says in a smart-ass tone, holding a hand to his ear.

Travis rolls his eyes, but I can feel him tense beside me. “Lucky shot,” he says, sinking deeper into his seat.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” Damon’s voice is light, casual even, but there’s an edge to it that makes my stomach tighten. His eyes find mine for just a second—a flash of something familiar and intimate—before he returns to his seat beside Liz, whose attention is fixed on her phone.

“No wonder your date is practically ignoring you,” Travis snipes.

“Excuse me?” Damon jerks his head to where Travis is standing, ready to take his turn.

“Nothing.” Travis shrugs. “I’m just wondering why you’re even here when you and your date have barely said two words to each other all night.”

Damon’s lips twitch, twisting into a cruel smile. “Just keeping my word and seeing this through.” His gaze flickers to me. “Unlike some people.”

The barb lands exactly as intended. My cheeks flush hot as Travis glances between us, confused.

“Ancient history,” I explain, forcing a lightness I don’t feel.

“Doesn’t seem so ancient to me,” Travis says.

“I’m hungry! Who’s hungry?” Liz chirps, jumping in between us.

I blink, glancing over at her, relieved at the interruption.

“I could snack,” Travis says, the tension melting from his face. “You want something, Avery? Maybe some nachos? A beer?”

Resisting the temptation to glance Damon’s way, I nod. “Sure. Whatever you want will be great.”

“Awesome!” Liz claps, a little too enthusiastic when she says, “Trav, let’s go check it out.”

Shooting Liz a look of thanks, I wait until they’re gone before glancing over at Damon, only to find him studying me openly, and not in that casual, passing glance kind of way. No, it’s a full-on, green-eyes-dark-as-emeralds, unguarded stare. One that’s both haunted and familiar.

“You hate nacho cheese,” he says, studying me.

I lift a shoulder as if in defense. “It’s not real cheese.”

He grunts, toying with a bowling ball in the ball return. “Regardless, you seem to be hitting it off.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Anger? Frustration? I can’t be sure as he rakes a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, whatwouldyou say?”

Ignoring the question, I take a step closer, grabbing my water from the table between our lanes. “Liz seems nice,” I say lightly, nodding to where she’s standing with Travis at the snack bar, and pretending like I don’t feel every molecule of air between us.

Damon huffs. “Yeah.”

“Think you’ll go out again?”

He arches a brow at me. “Not sure she’d want to even if I did. She’s quiet. Not really into bowling. Or talking, apparently. Or maybe it’s just me she’s not into. It’s hard to tell.”

“A woman not into Damon Huhn?” I mock-gasp. “Impossible.”

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, and my chest tightens.