Page 46 of Fallen Stars

“Not here.” I scan the restaurant for prying eyes. “Maybe later.”

Kirsten rubs a hand up and down my bicep as her expression softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks, K.” Needing to get out of my head, I flip the attention on Kirsten. “How’s our favorite hot officer?” I waggle my brows. “He looks fucking yummy in his snug, short-sleeve uniform shirt.” A dreamy sigh leaves my lips as I fill ice waters for new customers. “Bless the summer months.”

“Ollie,” she chastises as she bumps me with her hip, then chuckles. “Travis is more than man candy.”

I load the glasses on a tray. “Is he, though?”

Her lips curve up in a dopey smile. “Yes.” The way she says it is as if she’s trying to convince herself. “But I have to admit… my man is more than easy on the eyes.”

“Mm-hmm.” I pick up the tray and start for the newly filled tables in my section. “Like I said, yummy.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention.”

I pause and turn to look at her. Her dreamy smile from a moment ago turns mischievous. I narrow my eyes at her.

“Trudie put Old Lady Hensen in your section.” She juts her chin toward a table near the window. A table obscured by a group of brawny workers. “Have fun.”

On a groan, I exit the server alley and move from one table to the next, delivering water glasses. I let them know I’ll be back in a moment to take their orders. And then I head for the table near the window, to Old Lady Hensen and her grabby hands.

Across the table and out of reach, I set a glass of water in front of her. “Morning, Ms. Hensen. Do you need another minute to decide?”

The corners of her eyes crinkle as she squints at the menu through her glasses. “Must be time to get my eyes checked again.” She points to something on the laminated page. “What does this say?”

I move around the table and stand next to her. Bend slightly and read the menu where her finger sits. “Spinach Florentine quiche.” Quiche comes out more like key-eee-uh-sh as I inch back from her.

Because, as per usual, Old Lady Hensen takes advantage of my hospitality and grabs my ass.

Although the action is meaningless and a way to get her jollies in her old age, it’s still unwelcome and awkward. Most of us brush it under the rug. Joke about how she’s just some dirty old lady. But after three years of ass grabs, I’m over it.

“Ah, yes.” She tips her head back slightly and peers at the menu through the bottom of her lenses. “I see it now. Must’ve been a smudge on my glasses.” Her eyes meet mine, a purposeful smile wrinkling her weathered skin. “I’ll have the quiche and a hot tea. Thank you, Oliver.”

I scribble down her order. “I’ll get that in for you.”

Bolting from her table, I tend to my other customers. When her order is ready, I let someone else run it to her table. I check on her a couple times, staying out of arm’s reach, but otherwise avoid her table.

As the morning rush thins and I have more downtime than work, thoughts of Levi trickle back in. Rather than think about our relationship, I focus on other things in his world, like work.

He hasn’t mentioned much recently about the huge case he and Tymber are working on. Whenever I bring it up, he skirts around the details. For obvious reasons, his work is confidential. He isn’t allowed to share specific pieces of information. I would never ask that of him or put him in a compromising position.

But it’s difficult to miss the additional strain in his posture since taking on the case. Every now and then, this dazed, haunted look takes over his expression. Accented by the bruisy crescents beneath his eyes, some days he appears lifeless.

Worst of all, he keeps it bottled up. He keepstoo muchbottled up.

Between the stress of work, the pressure from his parents, maintaining the facade with Abigail, and spending time with me, the burden of carrying so much weight is slowly chipping away at him. He won’t be able to burn the candle at both ends for much longer.

Loading a tray with the sweetener packet holders from the empty tables, I take it to the server alley and refill them. Halfway through the task, Kirsten rests her chin on my shoulder from behind.

“How about a movie night?” She straightens and moves to my side. “Since you have an out-of-town show tomorrow, we should all hang tonight.”

A night with friends, junk food, and laughter is exactly what I need. Something to distract me from my incessant thoughts.

“Sounds great. What should I bring?”

Kirsten pulls her phone from her pocket, taps the screen, and shakes her head. “Just you.” Her gaze lifts to mine, a soft smile on her lips.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out to read her message.

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