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Moose chuckled, his ruddy features flushing. “Normally, I’d say all over, but Sage is an old friend.”
“Old friend, huh?” Kelsey gave me a look. “What kind of old friend? Sage, you okay?”
“Yep, I’m fine.”
Lies. All lies.
Oliver—and Seth and some other guy who looked vaguely familiar but whom I couldn’t place—were coming ever closer, and my pulse was picking up pace with every step. I grabbed my glass of vodka cranberry, hold the vodka, and tossed the last of it back, wishing it was alcoholic with a vengeance.
Too bad for me. Baby on board. And wasn’t that a perfect excuse to avoid a potentially awkward moment? Never mind my probably messed-up makeup from crying. I did not want Oliver to see me like this.
“Actually, excuse me, bathroom break,” I called, fleeing from the table as fast as my short, chunky heels could carry me.
I’d made it halfway down the hallway to the ladies’ room when footsteps sounded on the plank floor behind me.
“Sage.”
Had his voice always been that deep? It was as if I was in a deprivation state, and I couldn’t resist pivoting to suck down a quick, greedy glimpse of him. My heart turned over and my throat constricted, even as I backed toward the bathroom in self-preservation.
I wanted to talk to him. Just not yet. I was so vulnerable, so…
“Are you all right?” He was still coming toward me in slow, measured steps. “You’re pale.”
“And you’re at a bar. Why?” He stopped and dipped his hands in his pockets. My gaze dropped to his jeans—jeans?—and I gasped. “I-I can see your thigh.”
That made his lips quirk. “It’s a terrible look for me.”
“No, I wouldn’t say so. Actually, you’re insanely hot.” I swallowed and thanked the heavens I’d worn a heavy wool skirt because there was definitely some…liquefying going on between my legs as he flashed me a slow grin. “Ripped jeans, a beer T-shirt, hanging out at a bar. Have you fallen in with an unsavory crowd?”
His low laughter disarmed me enough that I almost didn’t notice he’d resumed his approach. I went still as he moved in, bracing his arm on the wall beside me. He reached out to touc
h my hair, trailing his fingers over the ends as if they were as delicate as satin. “You look beautiful.”
“You’ve been drinking.” I could smell the yeast on his breath, and rather than repelling me, it drew me closer. I never knew him to let down his guard even that much.
“You’re beautiful regardless, and don’t you ever doubt it.” He tugged on one of my curls. “Yes, I’ve been drinking. I wanted to get drunk out of my mind so I didn’t miss you anymore.”
Oh God. Vulnerable Oliver was going to lay me out on my keister.
“Did it work?” I asked quietly.
He shook his head, tipping his forehead ever closer to mine. “Don’t think there’s enough alcohol in the world for that.” Then his focus dropped to my throat. “You’re still wearing the necklace.”
“I love it.”
“Knots are tricky things. Some come apart so easily, with just the barest pull.” He drew gently on my hair, sparking a tingle in my scalp that reverberated straight to my overeager nipples. “Others are impossible to break. Strong enough to withstand anything. Time, force, the elements. Once formed, they’re unyielding, even if now and then some of the threads unravel.”
His words skated over my skin, creating little frissons of heat in their wake. “A knot can only form if both sides are pulled with equal intensity.”
“You need proof,” he murmured, his breath puffing over my lips and making them tremble. “The actions that go with the words. The words themselves. And the belief that I’m the man to stand at your side, not in front of you or behind you. Equal, one hundred percent.”
I nodded. “No matter who’s watching or what they see.”
Rather than respond with words, he cupped his hand over my belly and placed his lips tenderly on mine. He didn’t push for more, just tormented me with the soft, lingering weight of his mouth.
All too soon, he eased back, removing the warmth of his palm on my belly. “Have a good night.”
I was still shivering after he’d gone.
