Page 21 of Twisted Paths

She shakes her head, grinning. “Nope. If you’d hated it, you’d have made an excuse and left as soon as we got back. But instead…” She gestures at me with her glass. “You’re here. Having a drink. With me.”

I glance down at my pint, rolling it slightly between my hands before lifting it again. “Maybe I just needed a drink before returning to my solitude.”

She laughs, the sound soft and warm in the space between us. “Nah, I’m not buying it. I think you’re less of a grump than you want people to believe.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think?”

She traces a fingertip through the condensation on her glass, eyes flicking up to mine. “I know.”

There’s a teasing lilt to her voice, but something steadier beneath it, too, something that makes my chest feel uncomfortably warm.

She shrugs lightly. “You turned up for a group walk even though you clearly don’t like group activities. You shared your lunch after Bernard’s… moment.” Her gaze lingers, unreadable. “Doesn’t exactly scream anti-social. Doesn’t even scream mildly miserable.”

I exhale through my nose, shaking my head. “You’re reaching.”

She smirks, taking another sip of her shandy. “You’re deflecting.”

I glance away for a second, watching the way the sun catches in her golden blonde hair, the way she absently runs a thumb along the rim of her glass. There’s something easy about this—about her. She doesn’t fill silence for the sake of it, doesn’t push too hard. And yet, she pulls me into conversation without me realising I’m in it.

I raise the pint to my lips, letting the moment settle between us.

For once, I don’t feel the urge to leave.

Chapter 6

Nancy

Luketakesaslowsip of his beer, gaze drifting across the beer garden as if he’s perfectly content with the quiet.

I watch him, letting my eyes settle on the details I hadn’t really noticed before. The way the stubble along his jaw catches the afternoon light, a few days past clean-shaven but neatly kept. The way his dark blue eyes shift, always taking things in, sharp, even when he isn’t saying much.

My gaze drifts lower. His hands rest around his pint, fingers long and strong but not oversized, not the kind that swallow everything they hold. They look steady, the kind of hands that could fix something, hold something, touch something—

I catch myself.

The thought comes out of nowhere, landing in my chest like a misplaced step on a staircase. A quiet jolt that shoots straight down between my legs and makes my clit perk up. Heat creeps up my neck.

I reach for my shandy, lifting it too quickly, the glass almost clinking against my teeth as I take a sip.

Luke’s eyes flick to me, his brow lifting slightly. “What?”

I grip my glass, forcing myself to look unimpressed. “Nothing.”

His mouth twitches like he doesn’t believe me. “Didn’t look like nothing.”

“It was.”

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, watching me with quiet amusement. “You blushed.”

I scoff, even as my skin betrays me. “I did not.”

His head tilts, eyes still locked on mine. “You did. You are still blushing.”

I shake my head and set my drink down with more force than necessary. “You’re imagining things.”

Luke doesn’t argue, but he doesn’t look convinced either. Instead, he lets out a quiet chuckle and shifts back slightly. “Alright then, not-blushing Nancy, tell me something about yourself.”

I arch an eyebrow. “What kind of something?”

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