Page 21 of Fate

Then why did he kiss me the way he did? Touch his tongue to mine? That single touch shot a bolt of electricity so strong through me I have yet to forget the spark.

Shaking my head, I glance around the hopping pub and don’t see any open tables. Until my gaze lands on a pair of blue eyes in the very far corner. A pair I’d recognize in a sea of a hundred blond-haired, blue-eyed people. To me, they are the most unique eyes. Sky blue with a gleaming golden rim around the iris, as if the gods knew he’d need a halo surrounding him at all times.

Quickly, I glance down and away, heading toward the bar. What do I do now? Maybe he didn’t seeme.

I wave to the bartender. He gives me a chin lift, knowing what I want to order without me having to yell over the crowd. I’ve been here so many times, it’s my own personal Cheers.

Before I can ascertain if there are any individual seats along the bar, I feel a warm hand land on my shoulder.

“Hey, Sweetcheeks. Thought it was you,” Carson says while urging me to turn around.

I move, matching the momentum of his pull, a smile plastered to my face. At first, I think it’s going to be forced. I’m so used to wearing the mask that keeps everyone and everything at bay. My smile stays in place as I take in his shaggy blond hair—he must have run his fingers through it too many times—and the light stubble along his strong jaw after a full workday. The polo shirt he’s wearing has his company logo positioned right over the heart.

“Hi, Carson.” That’s about all I can manage to say, my tongue having swollen, choking off my words.

Be cool, Kat. Be cool. It’s just Carson.

“Busy tonight,” he offers while pushing both of his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Yep. Usually is on Fridays. I’m not normally this late.” I glance down at my watch once more, taking in the hour as past seven, far later than my average five thirty Friday night, early dinner alone.

He squints. “Oh, meeting someone?” He frowns, the simple gesture piercing my psyche.

I’m quick to allay his fears by shaking my head and looking down shyly. “No. I often come here to eat on Fridays. It’s kind of become my routine since it’s so close to my apartment.”

“Kitty Kat!” The bartender yells his nickname for me over the crowd of people, obviously not caring who he bothers in the process. He’s holding up a tall, beloved Poor Man’s Stout, more commonly known as a Black Velvet. My drink of choice.

“Add it to my tab. Thanks, Robbie!” I tip the drink back and swallow a large helping. The crisp notes of raspberry cider and thick coffee bean taste of Guinness mingle into perfection in my mouth. “Sogood.”

“I’ll say,” Carson mumbles under his breath and looksaway.

I take a few more sips of my beer, not knowing what to say or do. I’ve never been at a loss for words when it came to Carson. It’s odd, almost feeling as though we’d just met for the first time. I guess after not having seen one another for so long, it’s hard to bring back the casual banter we once lived offof.

I’m just about to say something when he gestures to his table.

“Eat with me?” His voice is hopeful with an edge of grit toit.

I weigh my options. I could pretend like I didn’t plan on eating here tonight, which would be a lie—and I’ve been trying not to lie lately, especially to people I care about. And even though Carson and I are no longer together, I still care about him a greatdeal.

“Um…” I glance around, looking desperately for a place to go to on myown.

Carson clasps his hand over my scarred one. I flinch but don’t remove it. My therapist encourages me to allow people to touch me platonically so I get used to human touch again. I resist the urge to remove my hand and instead squeeze his in return, sincerely wanting him to feel me. His eyes widen briefly and a smile breaks out across his face, making him impossibly handsome. I’d walk through hell and back just to see the smile on his face. I hadn’t seen it focused solely on me in so long, I’d forgotten how much I missedit.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve spent time alone together, Kat. Break bread, have some beers. We’re still friends, right?”

“Are we?” The coy note in my tone surprises me as much as I think it doeshim.

He smiles again, those beautiful teeth and blue eyes hitting my heart with a one-two punch. “Yes. Most definitely.”

“Okay. I did come toeat.”

“Me too. Right this way.” He lets go of my hand and guides me in front of him, his hand securely planted on my lower back the same way he used to guide me around before.

I close my eyes, imprinting the warmth. Last week at brunch was the first time I’d felt his touch in over two years. Hell, felt any man’s touch. Just as I’ve memorized the heat, it’s gone when he pulls out the chair at a table.

Once he sits across from me, he pulls my good hand up onto the tabletop and holds it with both of his. “Tell me what you’ve been up to. I want to know everything.” There’s a gleam in his eye I remember so well. When this man gives his attention to someone, he gives everything.

I laugh. I can’t help myself. Carson has always had the exuberance of a small puppy. Every moment in life to him has always been one to rejoice in and take advantage of. He’s not the type of person to ever let any bit of happiness he can glean go to waste. I’m thrilled to see this part of him has not changed.

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