Page 39 of Through the Flames
Dom had just gotten up to order us drinks when the volleyball girls rolled in like a glam squad in sneakers — tan, confident, and ready to make Sierra feel like the queen she was tonight.
Someone must’ve shot them a text about celebrating, because they came in buzzing like they were already part of the plan.
We’d barely made it through introductions before the door burst open and a squall of big guys entered the bar.
They were clearly part of Dom’s crew — they were all loud and hyped up, like they’d started celebrating an hour ago.
Wouldn’t have surprised me. Those guys worked as hard as they played.
The booth we’d claimed got louder, warmer, and more chaotic. In a good way. Celebratory energy was buzzing in the air like carbonation.
Knox, one of the big lugs I was introduced to earlier, bumped his knee into mine. “So, what are we drinking, little Kincaid?”
“First off, rude. I’m the older one. Second, honestly, I’m not entirely sure. Tastes like lime and regret.”
A booming laugh rang out. At least someone could appreciate my humor.
Once everybody had congratulated Sierra, I ordered a round of shots — bye, bye, tips — to toast to her incredible success.
She hadn’t wanted to come out, but now her face was flushed, a smile playing around her lips.
Dom did the honors for me with an expression on his face I’d never seen before. Soft and filled with admiration.
“Darlin’, I’m so proud of you. You earned this, and most importantly, you deserve this. Here’s to you kicking ass in Cali!”
Raising my shot of tequila, I met her eyes. “As your future sister-in-law, I expect custom merch. I want ‘Sierra’s Hype Squad’ in rhinestones.”
She snorted, and we all downed our shots with varying levels of disgust and shuddering involved.
I felt him before I saw him, like gravity bending just a fraction tighter.
When I turned around, there was Hunter, leaning casually against the booth behind me, his eyes cutting straight through me.
When the fuck did he even get here?
I blinked and watched him out of the corner of my eye, like he might vanish if I looked too long.
How has no one noticed him yet?
It felt as though his gaze was burning into the back of my head, but that must have surely been my imagination.
The whole room didn’t shift. Just me, apparently. Just the part of me that had clocked something sharp and cold and magnetic and refused to look away.
He was watching us, not in a creepy way, but in the distinctive ‘Hunter’ way. Like he was running some invisible calculation.
His presence didn’t announce itself. It pressed, a quiet kind of gravity. My throat suddenly felt very dry.
Do not look again. Nope. Just keep sipping. Be normal.
Sierra was telling us about her future team, the Los Angeles Sirens, and I tried to focus; I really did. But I could feel my focus slipping, my eyes blindly tracking the condensation dripping from my can.
Why did he look like he was waiting for something?
Maybe he wasn’t even here for us. Maybe he’d just wandered in. Maybe he owned this place with his weird, shadowy hacker money.
Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at myself.
Girl. Calm down. He’s just a man.
