Briggs’ POV
I walk away. At least—that’s what it looks like. From the outside, it’s simple. A brief interaction, few words exchanged, nothing that should matter. I’ve had hundreds of conversations like that. Short, direct, forgettable.
This should’ve been one of them, but it isn’t.
I don’t go far. I stop near the edge of the room, just enough distance to blend back into the environment, but still close enough to see her clearly. The lighting here is dimmer, the kind of spot most people overlook.
My gaze shifts back to her almost immediately. She’s still at the bar, in the same seat.
“She’s interesting…” The thought comes uninvited, unnecessary.
And that is exactly the problem.Because I don’t do anything “interesting.” I don’t stand around watching women, longer or revisit conversat
