Within Reach
843 Words
The thumping of her heart is only just starting to dissipate when her attention snaps to two voices beside her.
“Ah, finally noticed, did you? That guy has been staring at us since we walked in,” Jess whispers.
“Huh? I didn’t even notice,” Rayvn says. “Besides, even if he was, I’m not interested.” All the background noise was starting to bleed into a ring.
“Why wouldn’t you be interested?” Jess presses. “I mean—hello? He’s hot as hell.”
Jess side-eyes her girlfriend, surprised by how firm Rayvn sounds. Still, she can’t fault her. Rayvn had taken a deep emotional blow recently—they all had. Losing Elena was hard on everyone, but nothing compares to losing the one you were born with. Rayvn and Elena couldn’t have been more opposite, and since her passing, Rayvn has never quite been the same. Jess can tell today isn’t the day to push her.
“Come on, guys. If I wanted to talk to men, I would have dated one,” Jess blurts.
Both Emma and Rayvn stare at her as though she’s just grown another limb and started waving it around.
“Yeah,” Rayvn says dryly. “Not a mental image I want.” She chases the image down with a chug
Message delivered, the three of them fall back into easy conversation—laughing, catching up, letting the night pass. All the while, the stranger seems to wait. The tension at the base of Rayvn’s skull eases, but never fully disappears.
By the end of the night, Emma is drunk and Jess isn’t far behind, so they decide to call it.
“Text me when you get home safe, okay?” Jess says.
“Yes, ma’am!” Rayvn replies, saluting her as she sways and laughs.
Jess rolls her eyes. “Night. See you later, babe,” she says, guiding Emma toward the entrance.
The bar has mostly emptied by the time Rayvn turns back to the counter. A singeing pain bores at her temples almost like a warning. Before she can stand, a glass appears in front of her.
“The gentleman ordered this for you,” the bartender says.
Rayvn freezes—surprised, a little embarrassed, doubt flaring in her chest. Things like this only happen in movies. She isn’t someone who draws attention, doesn’t invite it. Sure, she’s pretty, but she keeps her energy firmly set at don’t f**k with me to avoid exactly this.
“Thank you,” she says to the bartender, glancing over her shoulder toward the man still seated at the bar.
“I’m glad you accepted.”
The voice is calm. Steady.
She turns.
“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” he says. “I thought I’d see if I could help. At least with a drink.”
“Cheeky,” Rayvn replies.
He isn’t wrong, though. She does have a lot on her mind—she just isn’t about to admit it’s because of him. His smile warms her cheeks, flushing them pink. The way his hair catches the bar lights, the sharp line of his nose leading down to lips curved in an effortless smirk—she could stare for far too long.
She forces herself to stop.
“Well,” she says, gesturing to the empty seat, “you might as well sit down. It’s a long story. It all started when I was born…”
He chuckles softly. “And you said I’m cheeky.”
“Lucas,” he adds with a nod.
“Hm,” Rayvn replies—not encouraging him, but not pushing him away either.
He laughs again, and something about the sound fills the space between them. His light green eyes hold her attention as he takes the seat across from her.
Okay, breathe, she tells herself. Just breathe.
It’s been a while since she’s felt like this. The moment he sits, heat rushes back through her, and the ache at the base of her skull flares, sharp and insistent. She stiffens, lifting her glass and taking a long drink, trying to steady herself.
“So,” he says easily, “now that I’ve bought you a few more drinks… could I know your name, love?”
He’s forward—confident. With looks like his, it’s easy to see why. He knows what he’s doing. The ache begins to fade, but the relief leaves her lightheaded, unsteady.
“Rayvn,” she says.
For a brief moment, something flickers across his face—irritation, confusion—as if she’s struck him. Then it’s gone, his calm returning. Rayvn notices anyway. She always does.
“You don’t look great,” he says—not softly, not loudly. Just certain.
“I’m fine,” she replies automatically.
He studies her for a moment. “You’re not.”
The bar suddenly feels too loud. Too bright.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks.
She hesitates.
Then nods. “Yeah.”
- Writer
