Page 19 of The Bridges I've Burned

Might as well enjoy the view.

He flagged down a waiter, who was thankfully very attentive and took care of adding my bar tab to my ticket. He ordered a double cheeseburger with extra fries and beer. He probably didn’t even think twice about it. I, on the other hand, stuck with the Caesar salad. I might be on vacation, but I had to squeeze into a formal gown in three weeks, and I’d already had my final fitting.

After the waiter left, a deafening silence settled between us until he finally spoke up. “Are you here on vacation? Solo, or?—”

I angled my head, giving him a sharp stare. “No personal questions, remember? And how do you know I’m on vacation? Or alone?”

His grin widened. “Well, other than the fact that you’re not denying it?”

He crossed his arms in front of him. I tried not to stare at the ink spread across them, but it was difficult. The word Creed stared back at me in bold, blocky script, written along the entirety of his left forearm.

His name? Last name?

Doesn’t matter.

Don’t care.

“You don’t look like a local,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You stick out like a sore thumb.”

My brow rose. “And you’d be an expert? You don’t exactly look like an O’Cocker yourself.”

He seemed impressed I knew the term locals used. He clearly did.

“You’d be surprised.” His expression darkened.

What was that supposed to mean?

Doesn’t matter. Don’t care, remember?

“So, you never answered my question before.” He met my gaze. “Why come to karaoke night if you’re not gonna listen?”

This was why I’d been discreet about the earbuds. “You’ll think it sounds stupid.”

That seemed to pique his interest. “Try me.”

“I wanted to be alone, but not?—”

“Alone?” he guessed.

“Yeah.”

Our eyes met, and something passed between us. A mutual understanding. I shivered.

“A bar gives you that, you know? You can be by yourself, but melt into a crowd and not feel isolated.”

His eyes softened. “Yeah, I know.”

I believed that he did—know, that was. Some people would just agree to placate you, but I had a feeling he got what I was saying on a deeper level. I’d ask him about it—except for that pesky no personal questions rule I’d instated.

“What about you? You don’t seem like the karaoke type. What brings you here?”

“Besides hot dinner dates?”

He meant it as a joke, but the way his eyes heated, even for just a moment, sent a zing of electricity down my spine.

And it had me seriously reconsidering my man ban.

I laughed, trying to cover the flutter of nerves he’d caused in my belly. “Right. Besides that.”

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