Chapter 48 Game And Question
Briar's POV
In the car, Rowan's mood shifted so fast I barely had time to process it. One second she was slumped in the back seat muttering about how Garrett was an asshole who deserved to suffer, and the next her voice dropped into a soft, pleading tone that made my eyebrows shoot up.
I glanced in the side mirror and caught a glimpse of her leaning toward Garrett, her hand reaching for his sleeve. Her entire demeanor had transformed from fury to vulnerability in the span of a breath, and I watched as Garrett's rigid posture gradually softened under her coaxing words.
Within minutes, he was the one apologizing, his voice low and reassuring as he promised to answer her calls next time. I sat back in the passenger seat, slightly stunned by what I'd just witnessed.
Rowan had completely turned the situation around, going from being the one in the wrong to making Garrett feel guilty for upsetting her. It was masterful, and I made a mental note to ask her later how she did it. That kind of skill could definitely come in handy.
Lucian drove us to a quiet bar tucked into a side street, its neon sign flickering softly in the night. The place looked low-key, the kind of spot where you could actually hear yourself think.
When we stepped inside, Rowan immediately insisted on a private room upstairs to avoid disturbing other patrons, though I suspected it was more about having space to continue whatever was happening between her and Garrett without an audience.
The four of us settled into a booth in the second-floor lounge, and almost immediately, Rowan and Garrett started a silent competition. Every time one of them lifted a glass, the other followed, their eyes locked in a stubborn standoff that would have been funny if it wasn't so ridiculous.
Garrett, to his credit, stuck to soda water since he was driving. Rowan matched him drink for drink anyway, her competitive streak refusing to back down even when the stakes were nonexistent.
I poured myself a glass of wine and took a slow sip, the warmth spreading through my chest as I leaned back against the cushioned seat. Beside me, Lucian lifted his own glass of soda water and clinked it gently against mine.
I glanced at him, surprised. "You're not drinking either?"
"Someone has to make sure you get home," he said, his voice low and easy.
I smiled despite myself, the weight in my chest lightening just a little. Across the table, Rowan and Garrett's competitive clinking had shifted into something else entirely. Their eyes softened, their movements slowing as they leaned closer to each other. The tension between them transformed from antagonistic to something charged and intimate, and I realized we were about to become very unwelcome third and fourth wheels.
I caught Lucian's eye and tilted my head toward the door. He nodded, already standing, and we slipped out of the booth without a word.
The second-floor terrace was quiet, the night air cool against my skin as we stepped outside. Wind chimes hung from the eaves, their soft tinkling blending with the distant hum of traffic below. The space was dimly lit, just a single lamp post in the center casting long shadows across the wooden benches lining the walls.
We walked to the far corner, away from the door, and sat down on a bench tucked into the shadows. The wood was smooth and worn, the kind that had seen countless late-night conversations. I set my wine glass on the armrest and leaned back, letting the breeze cool my flushed cheeks.
Lucian sat beside me, his arm resting along the back of the bench, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him but not quite touching. I glanced at him, my eyes drawn to the ring on his pinky finger. The metal caught the faint light, and I could just make out the engraved letters on its surface.
I wanted to ask about it. The question sat on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't think of a natural way to bring it up without sounding nosy or overly interested. I needed an excuse, something casual that wouldn't make it obvious I'd been staring at his hands for the past ten minutes.
Then it hit me.
"Let's play a game," I said, turning to face him.
He raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a faint smile. "A game?"
"Yeah. The loser has to answer one question from the winner. Any question."
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Lucian's POV
I could see exactly what she was doing. It was almost endearing, watching her try to be subtle. But I wasn't about to call her out on it. If she wanted to play games to get her answer, I'd play along. I leaned back against the bench and nodded, letting my voice drop low. "Alright. I'm in."
Briar pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times before holding it up. "Stack Tower. You just tap the screen to drop the blocks. Whoever stacks them higher wins."
I stared at the brightly colored blocks moving across the screen, their cheerful animation somehow mocking me. I looked up at her, letting a slow smile spread across my face. "I'm not very good at these kinds of games."
"It's just tapping a screen," she said, her tone light but her eyes bright with anticipation. "It's easy."
I leaned back, my gaze dropping to her lips for just a second before meeting her eyes again. "My fingers are usually busy doing other things."
Her face went red so fast I almost laughed. She turned away quickly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried to hide her reaction. I let the silence stretch just long enough to make her squirm before I straightened and took the phone from her hand.
"Show me how it works," I said, keeping my voice even.
She hesitated, then leaned closer, her hair falling forward over her shoulder as she pointed at the screen. "You just wait for the block to line up, and then you tap right here when it's centered."
Her scent hit me immediately—something floral and clean, mixed with the faint sweetness of wine on her breath. Her hair brushed against my shoulder, and I had to force myself to focus on the screen instead of the way her skin glowed in the dim light, the delicate line of her collarbone visible where her shirt dipped low.
"Got it," I said, though I hadn't absorbed a single word she'd said.
We started the game, and I lost within thirty seconds. The blocks toppled almost immediately, my timing completely off. Briar laughed, the sound bright and unguarded, and I realized I didn't mind losing if it meant hearing that.
"Okay," she said, setting her phone down and turning to face me. "One question. Have you ever had a girlfriend you couldn't forget?"
I looked at her for a long moment, considering how to answer. The truth was simple, but it felt heavier than it should have. "No. I've never had a girlfriend at all."
Her eyes widened. "Never?"
"Never," I said.
When I started my first business, I was too focused on keeping it afloat. My father tried to interfere, and when that failed, I had to pivot fast to avoid being dragged back into the family. After that, I opened the bar to throw him off, and then Apex took off. By the time I had any breathing room, I was too busy and too picky to bother.
She stared at me like she wasn't sure whether to believe me.
We played again, and I lost again. This time, I didn't even try to win. I watched her face light up as her tower climbed higher, the way her tongue peeked out slightly as she concentrated, and I decided that losing was worth it.
"Alright," she said, turning to me. "Your ring. The one on your pinky. What letters are engraved on it?"