And then, in an act of utter betrayal, it bounces off the board and lands dramatically on the floor.
The silence that follows is deafening.
I stare.
Rachel makes a strangled sound. Kane lets out a low chuckle, running a hand over his jaw as he looks between me and the fallen dart.
“Well,” he drawls, titling his head, “you certainly made a statement.”
I exhale sharply, ignoring the heat rising to my face. “Oh, go ahead. Rub it in.”
His smile deepens. “You know… I could. But honestly?” He glances at the dart again, shaking his head. “I don’t think I need to.”
I stare at the dart on the floor, half tempted to throw another one purely out of spite.
Somewhere behind me, someone stifles a laugh and I fight the urge to groan.
Rachel, however, doesnothold back. Oh, no. She howls, doubling over like this is the funniest thing she’s ever witnessed.
I shoot her a glare. Traitor.
At least her cackling is distracting enough that the guys focus on her instead of me, the poor, unfortunate soul who just managed to defy the laws of physics in the most humiliating way possible.
Kane, naturally, is still watching me. Clearly enjoying every second of my downfall.Dick.
“Cam, you're up,” he says, laced with amusement.
He gives me a look like he can see right through me, like he knows exactly how much I want to crawl into the floorboards. And damn it, my face is burning. I just know it’s bright red.
Cam steps up, effortless as ever, sending his dart flying. It lands with a satisfying thunk, right on the board. Of course.
And just like that, we’re back to our regular scheduled programming.
Halfway through the game, Tyler, I think it was, insists on a round of shots. At this point, another shot can’t hurt. So why not?
I throw it back with zero hesitation, feeling the warmth bloom in my chest, loosening some of my residual frustration.
Shockingly, the game is actually pretty fun, despite the fact that I've only managed to makeonedart stick. And even that felt like pure luck. It’s a hell of a lot more enjoyable when you go into it with zero expectations. Especially about things like scoring points.
I’ll admit that these guys are stupidly good-looking. And, unfortunately, fun to be around. But no matter how beautiful they all are, I remind myself why I’m here.
I’ve sworn off men. I'm not interested.
Kane, in particular, seems like the exact type of man who’s fully aware of his effect on people. He’s smug, cocky, and too good at everything he does.
Annoyingly, he’s been throwing bullseyes like it’s second nature, every dart landing dead center with infuriating ease.
Hopefully, this is his only skill and he’s not obnoxiously good at everything.
“Do you just come here every night and play darts?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as he nails another bullseye like it’s nothing. “No one isactuallythis good at darts.”
I roll my eyes as he retrieves his dart, stepping back with a smile that makes me want to throw something. Preferably right at him.
“I didn’t peg you for a sore loser,” he says, his tone dripping with amusement.
My mouth practically drops open.
Okay, ouch.Buthe’s not wrong.
