Page 21 of Rhys: and the girl who was always his

ALLY

“You owe me for this,” I grumble, arms crossed, as I glare at Rhys from across the table. I try to project an air of annoyance, but I know he can see through it.

He smirks, leaning back in his seat with an infuriatingly smug look. “You act like I dragged you here against your will.”

I roll my eyes. “You did. You just used emotional manipulation instead of force.” The truth is, it’s hard to stay mad, but I’m doing my best. It wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t being a little defiant.

“Worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smirk.

I huff, but I can’t deny it. I owe it to him after our conversation at Grumpy’s. Rhys caught me off guard and cornered me in the kitchen this morning. He had looked at me with that familiar determination burning in his dark eyes and suggested we get dinner somewhere casual, somewhere familiar.

“Grumpy’s,” he had said. “Just a normal night out. No pressure.”

It made sense. We came here all the time, and if anyone saw us together, they wouldn’t think twice about it. That was the only reason I agreed. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

But as I sit across from him, watching him nurse his beer while I toy with the condensation on my glass, I realise there’s nothing normal about this.

Not the way he keeps glancing at me like I might disappear. Not the way my pulse races every time his foot brushes mine under the table.

There’s an energy pulsing between us, more real than I am ready to admit.

It’s terrifying. And thrilling. It’s so completely Rhys that I’m at a loss as to what to do with it.

“This isn’t terrible, right?” he asks, raising a brow.

I snort, trying to hide my nervousness. “Give it time.”

And then, as if summoned by the universe to prove my point, the door to Grumpy’s swings open, and trouble strolls in.

Arden leads the charge, flanked by Chase, Yasmin, Ella, and—because apparently, I pissed off some cosmic deity—Ashley. I freeze, gripping my glass tighter as they scan the bar, their eyes settling on us like we’re a spectacle they can’t wait to crash. The second Arden spots us. His lips curl into a knowing smirk.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I mutter, slumping back against the booth.

Rhys exhales sharply. “Fucking Arden.”

Before either of us can make a move, our so-called friends descend on our table like seagulls sensing fresh hot chips. I watch them shuffle chairs around, excitement buzzing off of them in waves.

“Well, well, well,” Chase drawls, sliding into the seat beside me with a grin that’s half teasing, half congratulatory. “Look who we found sneaking off on a little date night.”

“This isn’t a date,” I say quickly, my voice higher than I intend.

Rhys glares at Arden, who has taken the seat to his right. “You tracked our location, didn’t you?”

Arden doesn’t even try to look innocent. “Duh. You both left separately but within ten minutes of each other. Acting all weird. What were we supposed to do?”

“Mind your own business?” Rhys suggests dryly.

Ella gasps dramatically. “Where’s the fun in that?” Her elbow nudges Yasmin, who nods and agrees with her.

I shoot Yasmin a pleading look, hoping for a shred of mercy, but she just grins, clearly enjoying this. “I mean, you guys do look a little suspicious,” she says.

Ella leans forward, resting her chin in her hands as she studies us like we’re a puzzle she’s about to solve. “You’re sitting closer than usual.”

Rhys grits his teeth. “You’re imagining things.”

“Are we?” With a sharp but amused look flickering between us, Ashley finally breaks her silence.

A slow wave of heat creeps up my neck. Ashley knows. Not sure how, but she does. And the worst part? She doesn’t look mad. If anything, she looks… pleased.

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