Page 4 of More Than We Know

He guides me toward the bar, and I notice how he keeps a good amount of space between us while still staying close enough to talk over the music. Every movement is deliberate, calculated to make me feel comfortable. It's refreshing.

“I’m Quentin, by the way,” he says as we reach the bar.

“I’m Kat.” I settle onto a barstool, and we shake hands before he flags down the bartender.

I try not to think about why such a quick, normal touch feels so electric.

After ordering our drinks, he turns his seat toward me to give me his full attention. I do the same until our knees are barely an inch apart from each other. “So what brings you here tonight?” he asks.

“Just moved back to Chicago after being away for a long time. Wanted to check out the scene since this club didn’t exist last time I lived here.” I keep my answer vague, not wanting to dive into my whole life story with a stranger.

“Well, welcome back. Where were you before?”

“I was a travel photographer, so anywhere the wind blew me, really.”

“And it just happened to blow you back to the Windy City.”

I can’t help but laugh at the goofy dad joke. His handsome smile makes it a little less terrible. “Exactly.”

We fall into easy conversation about my return to the city, how it's changed, and what's stayed the same. He's charming without being overtly flirty, curious without pushing for too many details about my life, and handsome in that effortlessly casual sort of way. It’s too bad he’s not single, but I can see why his wife married him.

Speaking of... “So, which one is your wife?” I ask.

He smiles and, without looking away from me, he says, “She has short blonde hair and is wearing a red dress. She’s on the opposite end of the bar.”

I discreetly look in that direction and spot the woman, but her face is turned away as she talks to a tall man who's leaning into her space. It seems to be a semi-friendly conversation, but even from here, I can sense her discomfort by the way she's leaning slightly away from him and subtly covering the top of her half-empty wine glass with her hand.

“Well, as much as I’m genuinely enjoying this conversation,” I say, “it looks like your wife might need some more pleasant company.”

His gaze snaps over to her, and he must notice the same thing I did, because he says, “You’re right. Want to accompany me over there?”

“Won’t you lose your bet if she finds out you told me about it?” I tease, even as I stand to follow him.

“Probably, but I actually think you two would get along really well. I’ll risk losing a trivial bet to introduce you two. Come on.”

In any other case, I would worry that this was some elaborate setup for me to join them for the night, but there’s no way he’s been anything but genuine with our interactions.

He leads the way around the bar to where his wife sits, and when he leans in to kiss her cheek, the man who was encroaching on her space slinks away. Quentin is still standing in front of me and facing his wife, so I awkwardly shift on my feet until he steps aside to introduce us.

But before he can begin introductions, my heart stops. Even after all these years, I’d recognize her anywhere.

“Kat, this is my wife, Sarah. Sarah, this is—”

Sarah’s face lights up with recognition and mild shock. “Oh my god,Kat?”

CHAPTER 4

SARAH

I can’t believe it’s really her. In all honesty, I thought I’d never see her again, even though she still occasionally makes an appearance in my daydreams.

“Sarah,” she breathes. “Wow. It’s been, what, over twenty years now?”

Jesus, that makes me feel old. “Yeah, I guess it would be that long now. Feels like forever ago.” But at the same time, it feels like just yesterday. So many memories are flooding back as I look into her eyes.

“Wait, you two already know each other?” Quentin’s eyes narrow as he looks between us.

“We were friends in college,” Kat offers in explanation.

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