Page 62 of About That Night

It’s a chilly night, but I don’t care. I want her to see Conviction and Porte French from a new perspective.

Chastity takes my hand and ducks, climbing out. “Oh, wow…”

“Cool, isn’t it?” We’re on the third-floor balcony, and we have a view of downtown, the square, the trees beyond Main Street, and the night sky.

“It’s amazing up here.” She takes a tentative step forward. “Is this safe?”

“It is. I had an engineer look over the whole building, and he said this is still structurally sound. It’s built on the roof pitch of the second floor. Technically, I think that makes it a balcony, not a gallery. I love the view, at any rate.”

“I do too.” She puts her hands on the railing and breathes in deeply. “I’m glad I moved back home.”

“I’m glad you did too.”

She glances over her shoulder at me. “What about you? Do you miss New Orleans?”

“I miss certain things. People. My apartment, which I did love. The vibrancy, the laughter. But I’m happy to be back home. I’m ready to be settled.”

Her fingers grip the railing tighter. “About that night…”

“What night?” There are two she could be talking about.

“In New Orleans. That was a crazy coincidence, wasn’t it? Running into each other.”

“It was. I was usually in the kitchen. The odds that I would be in the bar of the restaurant right when you were there is a crazy coincidence.” I take a swig of the whiskey. “Or maybe it was fate.”

She reaches for the bottle. “I don’t know if I believe in fate.”

That makes me laugh. “You believe bad things happen in threes, but you don’t believe in fate? That’s convenient.”

Chastity takes a sip of the whiskey, her eyes bugging out. She chokes a little and shudders. “Oh, God, that stuff is terrible. Why is whiskey so popular?”

“It’s an acquired taste. Like me.”

That makes her laugh softly. “That’s not true.”

“I’m serious,” I say, wanting to push her a little. “How can you not believe in fate? Isn’t that what you said about Josiah? That he was the best thing to happen to you? Isn’t that fate?”

She rubs her chest like the whiskey is burning. “I suppose it is.” She looks at me. “Aren't you cold without a shirt?”

“No. I told you I run hot.”

“I’m cold.”

“Then come here.” I reach for her. “I’ll warm you up.”

She gives a little shriek. “No! You’re covered in paint.” Chastity takes a step backward, and her foot twists on an uneven board. She stumbles.

In a flash, I have a firm grip on her arm, hauling her away from the railing and up against my chest. “I got you.”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she stares up at me, breathing hard from the scare. For a second, I think she’s going to kiss me.

But then, she pushes past me and climbs back into the building. “I should go. Nevaeh has plans with Parker tonight.”

“Sure. Thank you for the cookies and the whiskey and the company.” I climb in after her.

I walk her downstairs and remind her, “See you at the game Saturday, right?”

She nods, but she won’t look me in the eye.

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