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Though Nora and Rowan were accommodating to me being a third wheel—apart from their laughable attempts to get Kip and me together—there was only so much of that I could do.
Beyond that, Nora had been through enough lately. She didn’t deserve any more drama.
Sure, I could be somewhat of a drama queen, but I’d done well at leaving all the actual drama on another continent.
So, Nora’s house was out.
But considering the letter I’d gotten today, I neededsomething.I could not sit in my little seaside cottage in my favorite place in the world contemplating the time I had left, contemplating what was waiting for me on the other side.
Yeah, the noisy bar and the shitty drink were definitely needed.
“Haven’t seen you in here before.”
I glanced to my right, to the man who had settled onto the barstool next to me. My immediate reaction was to scowl at him.
“Even if I had come in here before, I’m not in my early twenties, full of lip fillers and naivete. Therefore, I’m not on your radar,” I said sweetly.
Kip chuckled at the jab, as he tended to do whenever we spoke. It was irritating, the way he treated my disinterest ascute, as if it wasn’t something that should be used as a warning.
He wasnotcute. He was tanned, blond-haired, square-jawed, and muscled with blue eyes and the All-American macho vibe.
Sonot my scene.
He was used to being every girl’s scene, which was why he’d never left me alone. If I’d just let him fuck me the first time he’d tried to get into my pants, he’d likely find someone else to try to fuck.
But no way. I wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t another notch in some overgrown playboy’s bedpost.
“Touché,” he replied, sipping his beer. “But alas, there are no beautiful young women at the bar tonight, so I spotted you.” He winked.
“Charming,” I replied, finishing my margarita and gesturing for another.
It was a quiet night at Jupiter’s one and only bar that served cheap drinks, had a live band, and was a surefire place to find a quick fuck—if you were into that kind of thing.
Kip most certainly was.
“What’s got you sitting here on a Tuesday night drinking alone?” he asked, obviously settling in for a while. Unfortunately.
“Something that makes it so I’m not in the mood for company,” I said, not looking at him.
“If you weren’t in the mood for company, you’d be making your own margaritas at home,” he observed. “And if you were in the mood for good company, then you’d be at Nora’s place, drinking fancy wine and eating cheese boards or whatever the fuck.”
Ew. He was far too observant.
“But you’re here,” he continued, holding out his hands, “drinking cheap cocktails and snacking on peanuts.” He stared at the large pile of shells I’d accumulated from stress eating.
“Are you a construction worker or a detective?” I snapped at him.
He tilted his head, regarding me with dancing eyes. “I’m a curious dude.”
I took a long sip of my fresh drink, feeling drunk but, unfortunately, worse. “You’re not going to go away until I tell you, are you?” I sighed.
“Nope,” he said, smiling and holding his bottle up to the bartender, signaling another. “Like I said, it’s a dry night.”
Fuck.
Tequila loosened my tongue. Worse, I couldn’t keep this bottled up. This panic, this fear. It had to go somewhere. And, unfortunately, Kip was closest at my moment of weakness.
“I’m getting kicked out of the country,” I sang before taking another large sip, staring at the array of bottles behind the bar.
