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And if that meant Booker bought the first round of beers to quiet his demons that night, he embraced it. An acceptable means of shoving all those lingering memories down until he’d need a spotlight to go hunting for them. Letting the alcohol soothe the restless feeling on the back of his neck that was more than his unresolved concerns over Calliope. This was the kind of nagging that had always warned him when shit was about to go sideways. Like that night, when he hadn’t been able to shake the itchy sensation between his shoulder blades.
He leaned against the bar, scanning the room, but if someone was watching him, they were doing a damn fine job of staying hidden. Which only made that irritating voice inside his head scream a bit louder. That edginess scratch at his conscience a bit harder.
“Booker. Buddy, are you okay?”
He stopped scouring the crowd long enough to glance at Wyatt — give the man a nod. “Aces. Why?”
Wyatt scoffed, grabbing one of the beers the bartender placed in front of Booker. “You’ve got that look.”
“The one that says I’m about to kick your ass at darts? Hell, yeah.”
Wyatt gave him a slight side eye. “The one that says you’re about to crawl out of your skin.”
Trust his friend to see through the bullshit. “Thinking maybe it’s time to cut you off.”
“You know I don’t drink that much, and never enough to read you wrong. We’ve been friends too long, and before you lie to my face — again — you’ve had it since we walked in here. Something you need to tell me?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe those voices are talking a bit too loud inside your head. Ever since Gunn mentioned the accident, you’ve been distant. I know that’s one of your triggers — having anyone thank you for keeping us alive that night, but I think it’s more than that. This… this is like that spooky woo woo crap we’ve all had once or twice. So, I’ll ask you, again. There something you need to tell me?”
“Not if you think I’ve got woo woo crap inside my head.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Stop deflecting.”
“It’s nothing, I just…” He glanced around the room, again, as he rolled his shoulders. “Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?”
“Yeah. For the entire time I was a SEAL.” Wyatt leaned in closer. “You sensing something?”
“It’s probably nothing, but ever since we left the facility, I can’t shake the prickling on the back of my neck.”
Wyatt nodded, taking another swig before casually scanning the bar withoutlookingas if he was scanning it. “Nothing jumps out at me, but… We’ll keep an eye out. If your instincts are telling you someone’s following you…”
“Probably just residual paranoia from getting shot at yesterday. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been involved in active fire.”
“You and me both, brother. Still, I’d rather we make fools of ourselves, than get caught with our pants down.”
“What’s the matter, buddy? Feeling a bit… inadequate?”
“I’m not the one going home to an empty bed.”
“And you aren’t? Unless… Don’t tell me. Kirby’s dropping by for a visit.”
“If she actually dragged herself away from her gorillas long enough to jump on the damn plane, she should be landing in a couple of hours.”
“Then, why are you still drinking? You don’t want to have any… issues.”
“This is only my second. Pretty sure I won’t have anyissues. Though, it’s sweet you’re worried about me.”
“More that Kirby might kick your ass if you’re down and out.”
“You really are a jackass, you know that?”
“At least, I’m not still pretending I’m not in love.”
Wyatt sighed, though, Booker didn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth quirked, or the slight slash of red across his cheeks.
“Shit. Youreallyare in love with her, aren’t you? Seriously, in love.” Booker shook his head at Wyatt’s glare. “I was mostly teasing all those other times. I mean, you have a tell, but christ… You’re not even trying to hide it.”
