Page 9 of Made for Mayhem

My smile faded—not from fear, but from the sudden weight of how big this felt. How much this moment mattered. As cliché as the song was, I knew one thing for sure.

I’d never felt like this before.

Seconds ticked by, the world narrowing until it felt like we were standing inside a fragile bubble, stretched thin and shimmering. Waiting for him to kiss me. Or step away. To do something.

Whatever happened next, I was sure it would change everything.

A siren ripped through the night as it passed us, loud and sudden, and I jumped.

Huddy’s hands tightened on my waist, pulling me into his chest on instinct alone. My heart slammed hard, reacting before my thoughts could catch up—his heat solid and grounding through our clothes, soft and comforting and lighting me on fire all at once.

“Sorry,” Huddy said abruptly, releasing me like he’d crossed an invisible line. The loss of his hands was immediate and disorienting.

I cleared my throat and dropped my gaze to the cracked sidewalk between us, the scuffed high-tops I’d doodled all over suddenly fascinating. Safer than looking at the man I’d been certain was about to kiss me.

Get it together, Daisy.

“Burgers,” Huddy said, waving a hand forward like nothing else had happened between that decision and now.

He didn’t reach for my hand again, and the absence felt bigger than it should have.

I followed when he started walking, silence settling between us this time. Usually, I hated silence, filling every available second with words, jokes, songs—anything to keep things light and moving. But now my mind flickered anyway—headlights, screeching brakes, the way his hands had locked around my waist like he’d already claimed me as his to protect.

Two more blocks down, we stopped in front of McDermott’s Pub. The windows were a little greasy, the sign chipped with age, and neon lights flickered inside. This place was the definition of a hole in the wall, and Huddy stood there, holding the door open with an air of confidence that said this was not his first time here.

I stepped past him, shivering at the shift from wind to warmth as the heavy door swung shut behind us, sealing in fryer grease and stale beer.

The bartender looked up, rag frozen mid-swipe. His gaze bounced between me and Huddy, eyebrows climbing higher with every pass.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” His lips twitched. “Huddy, I’d have thought you’d take a pretty girl like this somewhere a little nicer than my pub.”

I blinked, then waved both hands in front of us. “Oh—oh no, no, we’re not—this isn’t—” My words tripped over each other, heat crawling up my neck. “You know what? Nevermind.”

Huddy adjusted his hat and looked down at his boots, and I filed that away. The motion was subtle, but I’d already noticed how he ducked his head when he was trying to hide something. This time, the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.

The bartender chuckled and went back to wiping the counter, though I could still feel his curiosity following us as Huddy steered us toward a booth near the back.

We slid into cracked vinyl seats, the silence settling in again—this time too loud to ignore.

“Truth or dare?” I asked.

“Truth.” Huddy grabbed a menu from the wall, handed it over, then folded his hands on the table like he was bracing for impact.

“Oh, I see.” I took the menu but didn’t open it yet. “Now you’re just trying to throw me off with all these truths.”

“Or I’m afraid you’ll dare me to do the Dirty Dancing lift in a grungy bar with slippery floors,” he said. “Risking both our lives.”

I laughed. “Nah. I need to keep that one in my back pocket. It requires the element of surprise.”

Before I could say more, the bartender appeared with a basket of fries, setting it down between us.

“Get a head start,” he said, nodding at Huddy. “This guy eats fast.”

Huddy leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. “Come on, Gus. Don’t do me like that.”

“Well, if you’re not gonna get my boys to playoffs this season,” Gus shot back, “I figure I don’t owe you shit.”

The words were light and familiar, spoken in a sarcastic tone I knew meant they were friends.