Page 23 of Better Late Than Never

I took another sip and put the glass down. “Alhambra makes a lot of good beers.”

“Alhambra?” He tilted his head. “Isn’t that—I thought that was the old fort or whatever in Granada?”

“Oh, it is. But there’s a beer brand that uses the same name. Good shit. And the palace is worth visiting, too.”

“So I’ve heard. At least I’ll remember the name of the beer.”

“I know, right?” I laughed. “Do you like wine? Sherry?”

“Not sherry.” He wrinkled his nose. “Too fucking dry. I’ll cook with it, but…” He shook his head.

“Same. If you do like cooking with it, though, you’re in the right place—we basically live in the heart of Spanish wine country and the sherry capital of the universe.”

“Good to know. One of the doctors in my department keeps telling me I need to visit some of the bodegas.” He made a face and shrugged. “I like wine, but I’m not big on the whole wine tasting thing, you know? Just let me buy a bottle, damn it.”

“Ugh.” I groaned. “I got dragged on a bodega tour last year. I appreciate a good wine, don’t get me wrong; I justdo not carehow it’s made.”

“Right?” Connor raised his beer. “Or like the breweries that want to tell you all about every fucking step of the process.” He paused. “Though I think my issues with that are partly my brother’s fault.”

“How so? Home brewer?”

“God, yeah. And thanks to him, I know more than I ever care to know about yeast, hops, and…” He flailed a hand. “I swear, if I hear one more monologue about beermaking, I will drown myself in a fermenter.”

I almost choked on my own beer. He was always so mellow and calm at work—well, when he wasn’t nervous and stammering about us crossing paths on a hookup app. Watching him rant and rave was way funnier than it should’ve been. “He’s really driven you nuts with it, hasn’t he?”

“Ugh.Yes.” Connor took a deep swallow of his beer. “I just want to drink it and enjoy it. I don’t give a fuck about the rest.”

“Same.” I clinked my glass against his, and we both chuckled as our eyes locked.

And for the hundredth time tonight, I wondered if this was a good idea.

How the hell was I going to stay sane once every man in this building started to notice him?

CHAPTER9

CONNOR

When Alex and I had first walked into Castillo de Danza, I’d immediately thought,okay, this isn’t so bad.Loud and full of flashing lights, sure, but it wasn’t packed with people and didn’t seem like too much.

An hour or so later…

Holy fuck.

The dancefloor was absolutely packed with squirming bodies. The line at every bar was five or six people deep. The music had been cranked up so loud, the earplugs weren’t even helping all that much.

I was secretly relieved he’d brought us here early, before the real noise and chaos started up. I’d had a chance to adapt to the environment, scope out all the exits, and get used to the cacophony before it had all ticked up to this point. My combat PTSD was relatively mild compared to other people I’d served with, and places like this weren’t a massive trigger for me. Still, they did tug at some of the memories I’d made in warzones. Had I walked into the club while it was like this, I might’ve had to walk right back out. Taking some time to get acclimated made a big difference, though, and by the time it had reached this level, I was okay. My demons were tucked into the deepest recesses of my consciousness where they belonged, and I didn’t have that“oh shit” feeling I could get when something plucked at the threads of my past trauma.

I’d be fine.

The alcohol had helped, too. I wasn’t one for self-medicating and never had been, but even I could acknowledge there were times when it helped take the edge off.

Now if it could take the edge off my nerves about being here—being in a gay nightclub and maybe stumbling my stupid ass onto an attractive man’s radar—that would be great. No such luck so far.

Especially since, at the moment, I was alone.

Well, “alone,” seeing as there had to be five hundred people in this room. But I was standing by myself beside the table Alex and I had commandeered earlier. I felt a little like I was standing in the middle of a school of fish—they all whipped around me in a vortex of color and activity, but I doubted any of them even noticed me.

Was that a good thing? A bad thing? I couldn’t quite decide. I also hadn’t ventured far from this table since we’d gotten here, except to get a second round of beers for Alex and me.

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