We eat while talking about the work we have done on the album and the things still in the pipeline.
“Come on, follow me,” he says, standing.
I take out my purse.
“What are you doing?” he asks, smiling.
“We have to pay, don’t we?” I offer, looking around.
He pulls me up by my hand. “I think they know where to find me. Let’s go, I’ll take you on a tour.”
“You sure?”
He shakes his head, an amused grin tugging on his lips. “Positive.”
We make our way through the entrance heading outside. He stops in front of a factory-like building, and my mouth drops when he opens a big wooden door leading to the distillery floor. It is massive.
“Is this all yours?” I ask, looking up at the huge boilers.
“I own it together with Nathan, so half is mine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you owned a distillery and bar?”
He brushes his hair behind his ears. A stray lock falls right back in front of his eyes. My fingers itch to run through it. I bite on my lip. Shit what am I doing?
“Began the distillery after I moved here a couple years back,” he answers, sounding proud. “Already had the bar in Los Angeles four years ago when we—” He stops talking and walks away.
And I know what he means. That time I went to LA to try and get him out of my life, once and for all. And I’m right back there, knocking on his door.