73

FANE

I walked toward the doors of Last Drop, my mind racing. I couldn’t believe I’d asked Thorne Beckett out for a drink. It was a bold move, but after everything with Brooks and my tire, it felt right. Thorne had helped me more than he could ever know today.

“Fane,” a familiar voice called from behind me while I walked through the parking lot.

I spun around to see Thorne weaving his way toward me.

“Hey, you came,” I said, unsure why.

“Of course I did. You offered to buy me a drink.”

“Right, that I did.” Ugh. I sounded like a complete idiot!

“I’m kidding. I would have come even if you hadn’t offered to buy me a drink,” he said, still sauntering toward me. An adorable grin hung from his lips, one that sent butterflies through the pit of my stomach.

Thorne was hot—smoking hot.

I scolded myself for the thought. This wasn’t a date. It was me buying him a drink because he’d helped me with my shitty Brooks issues more than once today. I shouldn’t feel butterflies while in his presence.

“Re