Page 94 of Exposé

"Jesus."

"Yeah, I don't share that with many people."

I offered him a small smile as we commiserated together. "Thanks for sharing it with me."

"I feel like I can tell you anything..." He pointed his finger at me with a smirk. "So long as it's off the record."

I laughed as the space between us lightened, my fingers twisting the wine glass by its stem. "No worries there. All of my friends know it's off the record with them."

"Does that include your cop friend?"

"Liam?” I nodded. “Especially him."

"How long have you two been friends?"

I raised a brow. "You have nothing to worry about there."

Nate's chin, covered in a five o'clock shadow, scrunched as he shook his head. "I wasn't. But you guys seem close."

I let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not close with anyone anymore."

"Is there a story behind that?"

Bringing my glass to my lips, a shiver ran down my spine. "Not one I want to get into tonight."

"Hint taken."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Nate raised his hand, grabbing the waiter's attention. "Typical tragic story. Boy loses family, boy starts fights. Joins the military to work off his anger, ends up a maintenance man because the US government doesn't know how to take care, or transition, their military members."

"Goddamn. Sorry."

The waiter stopped at the side of our table. "Can I get you anything else? Dessert, perhaps?"

I glanced down at my plate as Nate sent me a side-eye. "I'm good. Thank you." The food sat heavy in my stomach, and if I were to drop another bite into the bubbling mixture, I'd burst.

"Me too. Can we get the check, please?"

"Right away, sir." He gave a slight bow and turned away.

"Is working maintenance your final stage, or do you have other plans?" I swallowed the remnants of my wine, the buzz hitting my brain like a fuzzy towel wrapped around my eyes.

"I'd like to—"

My phone's ringtone blared like a church bell on a quiet Sunday morning, making me cringe as I bent over and dug inside.

Becca?

I glanced up above the table. "I'm sorry, I need to take this. Are we going dutch?" Sitting straight, I pressed the phone to my ear. "Give me a moment to find a private space." I lowered the phone, muted the microphone, and put it to my chest.

"No. I've got this. Meet me out by your car."

"Are you sure?" I winced as though I were bailing on him.

"Yes, go." He waved me off, and I spun away on my heel, thankful for his understanding.

The cool air caused a shiver as I wrapped my coat around my shoulders and leaned against the car, my eyes swiveling around me. I put the phone to my ear. "Okay, sorry about that. I was out to dinner."

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