Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Still, I pulled the hat low on my head and went inside. As I figured, it wasn’t nearly as full as it had been on the weekend. There were people there of course, dancing, laughing, and hanging out, but it wasn’t packed, and there were empty spots toward the end of the counter.
The counter where Declan was.
With another sigh and more shame than I was willing to admit, I walked over and slid onto a stool. “Come here often?” I asked.
Declan looked over at me from where he was cleaning one of the beer spigots from the tap.
He frowned.
Fuck.
“I was…in…the…neighborhood…?” I drew out the lie, which wasn’t a total lie. I mean, I had been close, but on purpose.
The right side of Declan’s mouth curled up in a half smile, and some of my worry evaporated.
Without a word, he started to make me a rum and Coke, just how I liked it. He slid it over to me, then looked around, maybe to see if anyone was close. He had other bartenders there, but they were helping customers or cleaning.
He said, “I assume it’s normal to feel out of sorts after what you’ve been through,” and I would have never admitted it, but his words were exactly what I needed to hear.
“Even if it puts me into creepy territory by stalking you?”
Another smile, this one a little bigger. “Even then, I guess.”
I took a drink, ran my finger along the top of the glass, tracing circles. “You should probably admit you’re glad I came. If I hadn’t, you likely would have tortured yourself about calling me because you regret saying no to lunch and you want to hang out.”
“I do?” He cocked a brow, but I could tell it was playfully.
“You do. Not only am I an excellent fuck, but I’m a great friend. Funny thing has happened recently, and I’ve realized I don’t have a lot of those.”
Declan was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you think it could be the bad hats?”
A laugh tumbled from my lips, and damn, it felt good.
“At least you got rid of the sunglasses inside this time. It was very serial-killer-esque. I can see that chasing people away.”
“But I have such a fabulous personality.”
“Yeah, but do they have the chance to figure that out if they think you’re going to serial-kill them?”
Again I chuckled, and Declan did too, then sighed.
A customer walked up to the bar, and he left me to make him a drink, then someone else and another. I waited, drinking my rum and Coke and wondering if I was the biggest fucking loser on the face of the earth. I was coming off as pretty needy here, and I couldn’t say I liked it. At all.
When he finished, I realized the bar had slowed down even more. A twinky bartender with buzzed, dark hair, brown eyes, and skin a few shades lighter, approached him, looking up at Declan like maybe he had a crush, and Declan told him, “I’m gonna get out of here. If it gets busier and you guys need me, text and I’ll come back.”
“Sure thing, handsome.” He winked.
“You’re a brat,” Declan told him with a playful smile.
This was strange to me. I knew from things Declan said that he didn’t think he was good with people, but he really was. They were drawn to him, liked him, and I thought maybe they felt safe with him. I always had.
“Do you like brats?” the twink asked.
“Be good.”
“Aw, where’s the fun in that?” He sashayed away, tossing Declan a flirty look over his shoulder.
Were they sleeping together? Why did I care? But I couldn’t deny the twitch of…something in my gut.
“Finish your drink, and I’ll meet you outside,” Declan said to me.
I pulled out my wallet. “Wait.”
“It’s fine.” He waved me off and headed to the back.
I tossed back the rest of my rum and Coke, then went out the front door. Declan was walking around the side of the building as soon as I got there, like all he’d done was use a separate exit. It seemed like he didn’t want them to know he was meeting up with me, which stung a bit.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
I nodded.
He went down the street some, then turned for a road with beach access. He was wearing cargo shorts, for Christ’s sake, and a T-shirt. He definitely wasn’t into fashion. When we got to a bench, Declan stopped and took off his shoes, so I did the same.
It wasn’t until we were on the sand, walking along the beach, that I said, “So this is romantic.”
“Bite your tongue.”
I snickered. “Geez, you really know how to build a guy’s ego.”
“Is that what you’re looking for?”
“No!” I rushed out. “God no.”
“Ouch. Who knows how to build a guy’s ego now?”