He smiles through it.
But by the time the last couple of them head for the door, there’s something quieter in him.
Like he was doing a job and has just been left off duty.
Interesting.
He stays at the empty table for another minute, then heads for the bar.
A few places down from me, he orders another lager.
Card in hand.
Waiting.
I watch him because at this point there seems very little point pretending otherwise.
He glances down the bar.
His eyes hit me.
There’s the smallest pause.
Caught.
Before either of us can do much with it, Callum says something low enough that I have to turn towards him.
“You know,” he says, “if this goes well, I expect applause when I leave.”
I snort a laugh. “I expect a written statement from her in the morning confirming temporary insanity.”
He grins.
I shake my head, still amused, and look up into the mirror backing the bar and catch the blond guy looking at me.
This time our eyes meet properly.
Direct.
Blue eyes.
Very controlled face.
He picks up his pint, still looking.
Callum nudges my shoulder. “Heather and I are off to make irresponsible choices.”
“Good luck with that.”
“No promises.”
He claps me once on the back and heads for the door with her.
I barely react.
Because I’m still looking at the man at the bar, and he is still looking at me like neither of us has found a compelling enough reason to stop.
I feel my mouth curve.
