Page 27 of Old-Fashioned

His beautiful dark eyes stared at me from his spot on his bed as I walked out of the door and locked it.

***

Had I known the events that were going to take place this morning I would have stayed with Ryker, curled up underneath a blanket, a glass of wine, and a good movie.

“Two Coors lights, a vodka on the rocks, and a gin and tonic.” I placed my order with Abel, trying to control the shakiness in my tone.

“Who was that?” He asked, those midnight blue eyes searching for something, and add to the fact the weird tone he had used.

I've never heard him use it in all the time I’d been working here.

Shrugging I said, “That’s the man I used to worship. The man I used to look up to.”

A low growl came from him, he leaned forward resting his tightly clenched fists on the top of the bar. What the hell was up with him?

And then I had an idea, one that I hoped I wasn’t making up in my head, and it was proven by the way he said six words, “The man you used to worship?”

“My big brother.” And those three words?

Well, they did something.

One, they caused his shoulders to drop.

Two, they caused his hands to unclench themselves.

And three, they caused a light that hadn’t been in his toffee-colored eyes with hints of green in them, to shine.

Oh, man.

I took the drinks over to the man that I knew was my brother, and do you want to know the gut punch reaction I had? He didn’t even recognize me.

There was zero familiarity.

That was fine with me.

I’ve gone seventeen years not having him in my life, I can go a lot longer than that.

With that thought firmly on my mind, I continued to serve drinks and take orders and make him exactly what he was. A memory, or if I was honest with myself… a figment of my imagination.

However, it would seem that things hadn’t gone my way, not when I was passing by his table, and heard him talking on the phone, “Yeah, baby, I’m still at work. Going to be late. You wouldn’t believe the terms the opposition is trying to negotiate.”

Then a few heartbeats later, I heard, “Love you, too. Call you when I’m on my way home.”

He was still at work?

Was he serious?

I didn’t know that downing a few shots in the middle of a bar and grill was working.

Let it go, Birdie.

It’s not your place.

He was the one to leave and not keep his promises.

And as I nodded at myself, and turned away, my feet wouldn’t move any further.

Damnit.

---