Page 16 of Was I Ever Here

Quickly, I turn around, desperate to escape his penetrating perusal. My hands shake as I grab the ice pail and prepare his drink. Unfortunately, the task takes me less than a fucking minute to accomplish. I walk back to him on unsteady legs and slide his drink and napkin across to him.

“Thank you, Sunny,” he drawls.

I wince, my name on his lips jarring to my ears. His jade eyes never leave me. Never waning in intensity. His stupid grin still in place. My entire body is buzzing, desperate to walk away. But something equally powerful roots me in place.

I finally make up my mind.

I clear my throat and lean closer, false bravado written clear across my face.

“So are we just going to pretend nothing is going on here?” I give him my most provocative smile, the one I usually reserve for wealthy patrons with fat wallets.

He chuckles. Fuckingchucklesas he wraps his lips around his glass and takes a sip.

“Which is?” he says.

Even with the anxiety pulsing through me, I try my very best not to roll my eyes. The fucking gall on this guy. Scoffing, I cross my arms, feeling rattled. Or more rattled than I already was, his unrelenting eyes demanding respect. Respect and something else I can’t quite pinpoint as I gulp back the fear crawling like a spider up my throat.

Making sure no one is in ear-shot, I lean a little closer. “Did you kill Gary?” I whisper.

He takes another sip of his drink. His stare assessing me before finally responding.

“Yes.”

I suck in a breath. The edge of my vision grows dark, a tell-tale sign that I’m about to spiral into a panic attack if I can’t manage to control it. My hands grow clammy while I fight the urge to unravel.

Carefully, he sprawls his tattooed hands flat against the bar on either side of his drink. Condensation drips from the glass and onto the napkin underneath. He clears his throat and my eyes fly up to his as I watch something flit across them but it disappears as fast as it came. He leans closer.

“Look, I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just here to…” He trails off, his hand waving around in a lazy circle. “Make sure everything is as it should be.” He flashes a toothy smile, the left side of his lip dipping lower than the right and winks. I blink rapidly in disbelief.

Wait a second. Is he flirting with me?

I’m shocked into silence, trying my best to quickly process his demeanor. Hell, I might have even considered flirting back if the circumstances were different.

If he was literally anyone else.

Instead, I’m terrified but—I hate to admit—equally enraptured. I lean over and rest my hands on the bar in front of him, determined not to feel squashed by his aura or whatever.

“I haven’t said anything I wasn’t supposed to if that’s what you’re implying,” I retort, glaring at him from over his half-drunk scotch glass.

He leans back in his seat, glass in hand, and takes another sip. His eyes continue to burn a path down my skin, and I try not to shake under his stare.

Oddly, I’m also fighting with the conflicting need for him not to stop his slow peruse of my body. Taking a final swig of his scotch, he crunches an ice cube between his molars.

Shit,why does him breaking ice with his teeth feel like a power move?

Standing up, he fishes out some money from his jean pocket, drops the bills onto the bar and flashes his infuriating grin at me one final time.

“Good,” he growls, his voice coming out an octave lower than before. I can’t help but flinch at his tone. From fear…or something else?

Just as he’s turning to leave I stop him halfway.

“Wait,” I say, the word slipping out of me, my shaky hand reaching out towards him.

He looks back over his shoulder, and says nothing, cocking an eyebrow instead.

Fuck. Why did I just do that?

I swallow hard and say the first thing that comes to mind.

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