The blush that had been smoldering on his cheeks erupted into a full wildfire.
Neville's eyes went wide behind his glasses, his lips parted. For a solid three seconds, he forgot how to speak.
Beside him, Grayson's expression underwent a dark transformation.
To the people who didn't know him, nothing looked wrong in his expression. His hand was still holding Neville's, but the temperature around him dropped significantly.
The look he directed at Pete—who was casually lining up another shot—could have etched glass.
Pete blatantly ignored him and took his shot.
The cue ball cracked against the seven, which rolled wide and missed the pocket by a generous margin.
Pete straightened up with a mild shrug. He was utterly unbothered by both his miss and Grayson's displeasure. He just stepped aside so Julius could take his turn.
Grayson's eye twitched.
