Page 25

AVERY

I shouldn’t be this aware of Damon?of every breath he takes, every slight shift in his expression, every time his gaze flickers my way like he’s trying not to look?but I am.

Then again, this is the way it’s always been between us.

Magnetic, like gravity pulling at all the parts of me that are still his.

He’s in the lane beside ours, arms crossed as he watches Liz line up her shot, her expression blank and posture rigid, like she’d rather be anywhere else but beside the man I want more than anything in this world.

Damon shifts his weight from one foot to the other, watching her with an intensity that feels forced, or maybe that’s wishful thinking. Maybe it’s jealousy speaking as he tosses a polite smile her way, which she neglects to return.

All things considered, Liz is doing a stellar job of icing him out, so much so, that if Damon didn’t have a legion of women chomping at the bit for a chance to date him, I might feel bad. But he has to know how wanted he is, how desirable.

Meanwhile, Travis is all energy beside me, teasing me in his deep baritone as I fumble my third gutter ball in a row. “C’mon, Avery.” He laughs, bumping his shoulder into mine. “Are you sure you’ve done this before?”

I offer him a playful smile that doesn’t reach my eyes, careful not to touch him back. “Once or twice. But it’s been a while,” I say, meeting Damon’s gaze as I think about how we used to play. Every Thursday night, to be exact.

Damon’s jaw ticks before he glances away again.

“I’m a little rusty,” I say with a sigh as I turn back to Travis.

“Maybe you just need a little instruction on your next turn.” Travis winks, stepping a little closer. He’s ready to wrap his arms around my waist when I feel a strong hand wrap around my wrist, pulling me back.

“You scored a ninety-five last game.” Damon gives a snort of derision. “Pretty sure she doesn’t need your help.”

Travis raises an eyebrow, his hand still hovering near my waist. “Pretty sure I’m her date, and she can decide that for herself, man.”

I freeze between them, the tension crackling like electricity, while Liz stands awkwardly by the score screen, pretending to be fascinated by the digital display.

“Um, Damon, I think it’s your turn,” I say, nodding toward the screen.

Damon holds my gaze for one heartbeat longer before releasing my wrist. The phantom warmth of his fingers lingers as he turns away, snatching his bowling ball with unnecessary force.

“Sorry about that,” Travis murmurs, his hand finding the small of my back as we return to our seats.

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, what would you 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.

“Do what?”

“Show up here and act like I’m all you want, then go on dates with other guys.”

I swallow, watching him carefully. “What if I said I’m only here for you?” I ask.

He stares straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

Encouraged by the answering silence, I add, “The girls told me what you and the guys had planned. That you were going to start dating again and looking to double date. So, we set this up.”

“Of course you did.” Damon drags a hand over his face, chuckling lightly, and I wonder if maybe I’ve gone too far. Then again, when it comes to Damon, I’ve never been good about boundaries.

He shifts his attention to the ball return and picks up a dark gray sixteen-pounder from the rack, striding toward the top of his lane, and I try and think of something to say to make him understand.

With the sweep of the arm, he releases the bowling ball in one powerful, effortless motion, knocking down all the pins in one go. Another strike .

Swallowing, I step closer, blocking his path as he returns with his head down, jaw tight. “I might be rusty, but you always were better than me,” I say.

“Avery, what exactly?”

A bark of female laughter interrupts whatever he is about to say, and when his gaze lifts toward the sound, his mouth curves into a frown.

I follow his gaze to find Travis and Liz talking by the snack bar. Liz waves her arms animatedly, both of them laughing at whatever she’s saying.

“Remember that night junior year?” I ask, pulling his attention back to me. “When we convinced the manager of Strikes to give us the whole place to ourselves if you won State?”

He stares at me for a moment, and all at once his gaze softens, lips twitching like he remembers, before he says, “We bowled in our socks, and you slipped on the waxed floor, taking me down with you.”

I shake my head, biting my lip at the memory. “You landed on your elbow and wouldn’t stop whining for a week.”

“Because it was practically broken,” he deadpans, but there’s a warmth behind his voice now?a playfulness I’ve yet to hear from him since I arrived in Ann Arbor.

“You dislocated it.” I roll my eyes.

“I had to wear a sling for three weeks!” He laughs, and the sound fills my chest with something dangerously close to hope.

“Hey, I felt really bad about that.” I poke him in the chest. “Remember how I signed it?”

His expression darkens slightly, his smile fading, and I wonder if I’ve ruined the moment when he murmurs, “Sorry I made you fall for me.”

I swallow, and my heart leaps into my throat. “I thought you blocked me from your mind? That I was the only one that remembered all the moments we shared?”

There’s a beat of silence, the sound of pins crashing echoing around us, but neither of us looks away.

“I never said I blocked you. I just didn’t want to remember,” he says, his voice soft, barely audible over the clatter of pins and music. “I remember everything, Avery.”

My heart flips. “We had a lot of good times, didn’t we?”

He nods, his throat bobbing as he stares off into the distance.

“It doesn’t have to be over, you know, if you’d just give me a chance. I promise it’ll all make sense when I explain.”

“ If you explain. So far, you seem to have come up short in the explanations department.”

“I can and I will. I just . . . I need to be sure you’re ready to hear it first, because I’d be risking everything by telling you.”

His gaze jerks to mine, and his eyes soften, as if seeing me for the first time. Then Travis calls my name, and the sound of him at my back is a reminder that Damon and I aren’t here together but with other people.

Everything about it feels wrong.

“I got extra cheese,” Travis says proudly, but when I don’t answer or even so much as glance his way, he asks, “Avery?”

“Your date is calling,” Damon murmurs, some unspoken emotion lingering in his eyes?an echo of something neither of us has quite let go of?before he quickly glances away.

And as he turns toward Liz, I think, I might have a fighting chance yet.