Page 117 of For the Plot

I smirk and clink mine against hers. “Good answer.”

We sip. Talk. Flirt. She’s leaning over the table more now. Letting her fingers graze mine. Letting her voice drop when she tells me I should wear my Henley more often.

And then it happens. She stiffens. Eyes fixed just over my shoulder. I clock the change immediately. Her breath slows. Shoulders go tense.

“Skye?” I murmur.

She doesn’t answer right away. Just stares.

“Tell me,” I say, quieter now. “Who is it?”

She lifts her glass and takes a slow sip, like she needs the burn.

“Shane.”

It takes a beat to register the name. Then the weight behind it. Shane. Her ex. The man she’s mentioned only once or twice but never with fondness.

I keep my expression neutral. My tone casual. “Want me to take you out the back?”

She smiles tightly. “I’d rather he see me.”

I reach across the table and place my hand over hers. “Then let’s make sure he really sees you.”

Before I can say anything else, he spots her. Stops mid-stride. His eyes widen like he wasn’t expecting her to look this good. To glow like this. He straightens his jacket and makes his waytoward us, smiling like he belongs at our table. Like he ever fucking deserved to be in her orbit.

“Skye,” he says, eyes dragging down her body in a way that makes my blood burn. “Wow. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Shane,” she says. Her tone is flat. “Didn’t think you liked places like this.”

“Didn’t think you did either but here you are.” He runs his eyes over her again, flashing that charming-on-the-surface smile. “Guess you’re full of surprises.”

His eyes flick to me, to the way our hands are linked.

He blinks. “Sorry, and you are…?”

I don’t stand. I just level him with a cool look. “Her date.”

“Right,” he says, not even pretending to hide the tension behind his smirk. “Shane.” He extends a hand I don’t take.

“I know who you are,” I say flatly.

Skye shifts beside me. I don’t let go of her hand.

Shane turns his attention back to her, reaching his hand out and casually wrapping his fingers around her upper arm. “Can we talk for a second?”

My spine straightens. Skye stiffens.

“No,” I say before she can answer.

His smile fades. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He turns to face me fully. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Yeah, but I’m talking to you.”

Skye squeezes my hand. He laughs, that mocking little huff like he thinks he’s still got a shot here. Like he doesn’t know he’s already lost.