Drew smirked. “It’s on the house.”
“Trying to butter me up now?” I asked, suspicious.
He leaned against the edge of the booth, one brow raised. “Actually, I came to call a truce.”
I blinked. “A truce?”
“Yeah,” he said, straightening. “You’ve made it very clear you want me to leave you alone. So I will. Consider this my peace offering.” He nodded toward the drink. “Peppermint diplomacy.”
Lydia was trying, and failing, not to grin.
I forced a smile, ignoring the strange little drop in my stomach. “Wow. Look at you, all mature.”
“I have my moments.”
“Rarely.”
He laughed. “Probably for the best. Wouldn’t want to scare anyone.”
I rolled the shot between my fingers, pretending the fizz of disappointment in my chest wasn’t real. This was what I wanted—distance. No more teasing, no more late-night chaos, no more confusion.
So why did it feel like something sharp and cold had lodged under my ribs?
“Fine,” I said after a beat. “Truce accepted.”
“Good.” He straightened, that easy grin still in place but softer now. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”
And just like that, he walked back to the bar.
Lydia watched me for a long moment, her head tilted like she was trying to read my mind. “You okay?”
“Perfect.”
“You look… disappointed.”
“I’m thrilled,” I said, throwing back the schnapps. The peppermint burned pleasantly on the way down. “Can’t you tell?”
Lydia’s mouth twitched. “You always do that thing where you pretend you’re fine and then glare at a wall for thirty minutes.”
“I don’t glare.”
“You’re glaring right now.”
“I’m reflecting.”
She smirked. “Mmhmm. On what?”
“On how to get through this weekend without committing a felony.”
Her laugh was soft. “You could try just talking to him.”
“About what? The weather? His forearms?”
“I mean, those aretwogreat conversation starters.”
“Lydia—”
But she was already distracted, waving to someone across the room. “Oh! Beth needs me. Don’t drown in denial while I’m gone.”
