Lukas chuckles, brushing her off, but something in his body language doesn’t match the easy tone. His gaze sweeps over the restaurant, quick but searching — scanning faces, corners, tables. Looking for someone.
When he doesn’t find them, a faint shadow crosses his features before he masks it with another grin.
I take a slow sip of whiskey, watching him over the rim of my glass. I’ve known Lukas long enough to know when he’s bluffing — and right now, he’s hiding something.
He catches me watching and raises his glass. “Good to see you, Chase.”
“You too, mate.”
Jas gives him a look that could slice through steel. “Don’t ‘mate’ him, Luke. He’s not here for your charm. He’s here to brood and drink expensive whiskey.”
“Ah, perfect,” Lukas says, sliding onto the stool beside me. “Two of my favourite hobbies.”
Jas mutters something under her breath and wanders off to serve another table.
Lukas leans on the bar, scanning the room again, that same flicker of disappointment crossing his face. Then he turns back to me with a too-bright grin. “So, how’s the empire? Still bossing everyone around?”
“Something like that,” I say dryly.
He chuckles, but his mind’s somewhere else — I can see it. It’s written in the restless tap of his fingers on the counter.
Interesting.
When Jas returns, she catches me watching him. “Ignore him. He’s being weird,” she says under her breath. “Has been all week.”
“Noted.” I down the rest of my whiskey, though the taste feels dull now. Something about Lukas’s energy lingers — the tension he’s trying too hard to hide.
Jas notices my silence and flicks my arm. “Hey. Stop analysing my brother like a case study. You were mid-crisis about your love life before he showed up.”
“Right.” I force a smile. “Back to my downfall.”
She rolls her eyes, but the softness returns. “You’re not doomed, Henry. Maybe it’s time you stop assuming everything good in your life has an expiry date.”
Her words sit heavier than the whiskey. I don’t answer — instead, I reach for my phone, the need to hear from Matilda gnawing at me.
Henry: Hey. How did the rest go?
Seconds later, my screen lights up.
Matilda: Good. I feel loads better. About to head back to it. I’m sorry I cancelled on tonight.
Henry: It’s fine. I probably wouldn’t have let you work anyway. Like you said — I can be a distraction.
Matilda: I know. It’s getting addictive. It’s a problem I really need to work on.
Henry: Is that what you want? For the problem to go away?
The message hangs there. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent it — but my chest tightens, needing the answer.
Matilda: Maybe I’m mad, but… no. I don’t want the problem to go away.
My heart kicks against my ribs.
Henry: Let me take you away this weekend?
Matilda: Where? What about the presentation?
Henry: I know a place. You could use the break. Clear your head. Just you and me.
