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Travis lifts a bottle of vodka in between himself and Dean. “I want to drink this and forget the last six weeks. You good with that?”
Dean nods to Travis. What Travis is offering is simple. Drown the memories. Forget. “Is it true you got shot?” Dean asks him, catching us both off guard.
I assumed Travis would have told him by now. Travis sucks his teeth. “Sort of,” he answers.
“Sort of?” Dean replies with a chuckle.
I scoff at Travis’ placidity to the fact a bullet—had it not been for a mobile phone, would have torn its way directly through his heart.
“I’ll fill you in, brother.” Travis pats Dean’s back. It’s nice seeing them back in each other’s presence. He then whistles, and Legs makes his way over.
Looking between us, I see a flicker of uncertainty swipe across Dean’s face. His time away is potent. He doesn’t know our routines.
“Legs will see Mads and Lauren home safely,” Travis informs him, also seeing him looking lost.
Dean keeps me close to him as he places a kiss on my temple. “Okay,” he says, almost unsure.
Red slides two glasses to Travis who grabs them and walks away, heading towards the sofas in the corner of the room.
“You going to be alright?” Dean whispers for only me to hear, looking at Red. He kisses me once more on the cheek.
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
Giving my bum a light squeeze, he turns and joins Travis, slumping himself down into one of the sofas.
I look to Red. Her eyes don’t track him like they usually do. Instead, they’re fixed on me. “Everything alright?” I ask unsure ofwhat to say.
“Yeah.”
Maybe she’s waiting for me to leave? I’m not certain. I grab my bag as I sip the remains of my coke, looking at her, only to notice her hair’s changed. I take the time to observe her. It’s no longer the shade of trampy red. I like it. The auburn strands curl under chin in an elegant way. There’s a word I never thought I’d associate with her.
I slow down my sipping, making it look like I simply need a breather. “That your natural colour?” My eyes flick to her hair.
She shrinks, but I don’t miss the twitch of her eyes. Is she nervous? She looks at me, her body shifting, her words coming at me all defensive. “Yeah. What of it?”
We may not always see eye to eye, but I know when someone’s hiding their vulnerability. “It looks nice,” I tell her truthfully.
She huffs pulling her head back, then stops, noticing I’m being serious.
Her words tell me one thing, but the councillor in me knows there’s more to it. “You can talk to me.”
Red laughs, moving to collect a tea towel, aimlessly busying herself. “The day I talk toyou,will be over my dead body.”
Letting out a sigh of doubt, I finish my coke then hit the glass to the bar. I lean forward grabbing a napkin, and reach into my bag for a pen. “You don’t have to be so defensive,” I tell her as I write my phone number down. “I’m simply pointing out that you don’t seem to have anyone to talk to. So, if you change your mind and manage to pull your head from out your arse, I’m actually a pretty good listener.”
I toss the napkin her way but she remains quiet, offering me nothing. Instead, she stares blankly at it, a look of confusion shimmering in her eyes.
Even if she doesn’t care to admit it, the environment sheworks in is not for the faint hearted. You need balls of steel and a solid wall of glass protecting you from the men in here. It shouldn’t be the case, but this many alpha males and a woman like Red… I hear the comments she gets; I see the way some of the guys look at her like she’s a piece of meat.
Turning, I swing my bag over my shoulder. Drained.
“Why are you being nice to me?” she asks.
I immediately stop and look back. “I just told you to pull your head out of your arse, that wasn’t very nice.”
Red smiles for the first time. It suits her.
I relax my shoulders. “Because I see you, that’s why. The changes you’re trying to make? I get it.”
