“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Emma tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smirk as she swirled the ice in her glass. The dim light of the bar caught the gold in her hazel eyes, and she leaned forward slightly, her dark waves falling over one shoulder.

Sam chuckled, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “I’m listening,” he said, though his gaze flicked to the TV above the bar for a split second. They’d been friends for years, ever since they’d met at a mutual friend’s party. Tonight, though, there was something different—a tension neither of them had acknowledged yet. Emma wore a fitted black dress that hugged her curves, and Sam couldn’t help but notice how the fabric shifted as she moved.

“Okay, fine,” Emma said, setting her glass down with a soft clink. “But if you’re not going to pay attention, I’m cutting you off.” She reached for his beer, her fingers brushing his as she pulled it toward her. Sam’s eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the noise of the bar faded into the background. “You’re going to regret that,” he said, his voice low.