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But that Nyssa hadn’t known Amell. That Nyssa never opened her heart even a fraction of an inch to anyone.
“Everyone,” I say slowly, choosing my words with care, “has a breaking point. Everyone has their moments of weakness. But you’re right… it was hard to break me, and I won’t let it happen again. Thus, I won’t be accepting drinks.”
Karen has no clue how serious I am, because she grins and shakes her head. “So you’re just going to be alone the rest of your life?”
“I’m good at being alone, trust me.” I pick up my beer and sip.
“Well, at least you can be my wingman.” Karen twists on her stool and looks out over the bar. “Oh shit… Jonas is coming this way.”
I let my gaze slide to the mirror behind the bar and see him sauntering over with his pool stick in hand. He approaches on my left and leans his arm on the bar.
“You too good to accept a drink from me?” he asks with a charming smile.
“Not at all,” I assure him as I turn slightly his way. “I’m just not interested.”
This seems to offend as his chin jerks inward. “It was just a drink, for God’s sake. Not like I’m asking you to sleep with me.”
I turn away from Jonas, take another sip of my beer. “That’s good, because I wouldn’t be interested in that either.”
Karen snorts, but it’s not really funny. It was a direct cut, delivered so he will go away and stop wasting time on me.
“Frigid bitch,” Jonas sneers as he pushes away from the bar.
I catch movement behind me in the mirror, a large presence that has moved in close, and the words make me light-headed. “I suggest you apologize to the lady before I knock your teeth down your throat.”
It’s not the words so much. It’s the voice.
Amell.
I focus in on the mirror, see his large frame behind me, how he towers over Jonas. How had I forgotten how tall he was?
Jonas tips his head way back and holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, man.”
“Not me,” Amell growls. “Her.”
I still haven’t turned around so Jonas has to push back in beside me and lean forward so I can see him. “Sorry, Nyssa. That was uncalled for.”
“It’s okay,” I murmur.
Jonas scrambles away, and now it’s awkward. I don’t look at Amell. I don’t know that I can handle it, so I hunch over my beer.
Karen nudges me again. “I don’t think this guy wants to buy you a drink.”
“I don’t know what he wants,” I say, and then loud enough so I hope he hears, “but it would be nice if he just went away.”
Amell moves to my left, takes the place Jonas just vacated, and leans on the bar. I refuse to look at him.
“I just want to talk, Nyssa.”
“You know this guy?” Karen gasps, then nudges me in the ribs again.
“Unfortunately, yes.” I look at Amell, and for a moment, I’m struck dumb by the yearning in his blue eyes. But I shut it down. “I don’t want to talk. Go back to Hell.”
“Damn,” Karen mutters, but she has no clue I’m not being rude. Just wishing him back to his actual home.
Amell sighs. “I wish you wouldn’t make this difficult.”
I open my mouth to tell him off, because how dare he accuse me of being difficult when he shredded my heart and kicked me out of his home. The same home he’d asked me to stay in forever.
