Page 12 of I've Got You

“Hey, Scott.” His voice was smooth, calm, and a little quieter than his previous words.

I nodded. “Hey.” But I couldn’t muster a smile. I glanced away, no clue how to react or respond. If there was ever a time that I wanted to punch myself—and admittedly there’d been several such occasions over the past few weeks—now was the perfect moment. I felt pathetic and so out of my comfort zone, a hit of pain was a possible solution to getting me back on track. My whole life I’d played the part of arrogant and privileged. The truth was, though, there’d been no playing. I had been those things. My only chance of redemption was knowing wealth had been a noose and arrogance had been a ruse. But still, I’d lost who I was, and that was one heck of a hard pill to swallow.

I gripped my drink and took a big gulp, not even wincing at the burn.

Davis’s arm brushed mine when he angled himself closer to the bar, leaning over slightly with his outstretched hand. I willed myself to remain relaxed and ignore the contact, blindly and unsuccessfully refusing to pay attention to the heat traveling across my skin or the buzz of electricity the contact created. I had no idea how successful I was at concealing my reaction. I was just relieved I hadn’t broken into a cold sweat.

“Hey, the name’s Davis. New owner, right?”

Ted smiled and shook Davis’s hand. “There are no secrets in this place, huh?” I didn’t miss that Ted’s gaze landed on me briefly. “Ted. Nice to meet you.” He tilted his head to the side. “Another outta towner, right?”

I could imagine the grin on Davis’s face. I didn’t dare look at him; my fear stilled me.

“That’s right. We’ve been here about a year now. I own the Split Bean in town. The coffee shop.” I stilled at the news, wondering how I didn’t know that. The Split Bean made the best coffee in town. Admittedly, there wasn’t much competition, but it was still good. They also made amazing cakes. When I’d worked at the clinic, it was usually one of the receptionists or a nurse who grabbed orders for everyone at lunch, though, so I’d rarely been in there. “Not sure I’ll ever be classed as a local though, until maybe I’ve been here for thirty years or so,” Davis continued with a chuckle.

Smiling, Ted said, “I can imagine.” He wiped the bar top. “Beer?”

Davis nodded. “Yep, what’s on tap will be good.”

“Sure thing.” Ted took a glass and started pouring Davis’s drink. “You said we?” he pressed, his eyes flicking up to Davis at my side.

This time I risked a glance at Davis. He was smiling, apparently his natural state. The guy seemed so damn happy. My gaze roamed the side of his face, landing on the small creases around his eyes, and my gut clenched. Shit. Reality hit me. I was sitting silently at the bar like a spare part. I had no idea if I should get up and leave to find a table or stay. My inability to handle the situation made me jolt, or at least made my knee jerk. What the hell was with overanalyzing? I could play this game, right? Act like a goddamn human being at least. I told myself that playing was what I was meant to stop doing. In my world, playing tended to equal lying to myself and those around me. This was meant to be the new, brave, no-bullshit Scott.

Shrugging off my tension, I paid attention to the conversation taking place around me and jolted for real this time when one of Davis’s words registered. “You have a daughter?” I spun in my seat to look at him full on.

With a glance my way, he nodded, though his brows dipped in amusement, confusion—I had no idea what. Though he did seem to be working out what my outburst was about. His lips quirked into a smile. “I sure do.”

“But you’re gay.” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. My filter shattered. I would swear blind to anyone who asked that I wasn’t usually this way… this dim-witted or dense, but hell…. Daughter? Rattled wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what the hell my brain was playing at. It was trying and failing to make sense of everything. Not only was I still in a spin with my own revelations, but I was ridiculously affected by Davis. Apparently, so much so, common sense and all pretense of subtlety flew out the window. In its place, stupidity had taken root and made my brain its home.

Davis pursed his lips. I couldn’t help but be distracted by them, remembering all too clearly how they’d felt against mine. “Shit,” I managed. “Sorry?” Yes, it came out as a damn question. My eyes widened in horror, gaze firmly on Davis. I didn’t even glance when I heard Ted snort and place Davis’s drink down before his footsteps moved away.

With a raised brow, Davis asked, “Are you?”

Was I what? Sorry about asking? Sorry for saying something so inappropriate? Absolutely. But admittedly, I was as curious as hell.

Chapter Seven

DAVIS

A wide-eyed Scottstared at me. A mixture of horror and embarrassment swirled across his features, but I didn’t miss the interest either. He could’ve so easily turned away from me, just as he could’ve easily pleaded ignorance. Hell, he could have simply downed his drink and run. Instead, the confusion written on his face was intriguing and somewhat adorable.

For the briefest of moments, I contemplated playing a game, winding him up. But considering all I knew about Scott, I didn’t think that wise. “Libby, my baby girl, she’s almost one now.”

His attention was rapt, focused, and he was seemingly listening to every word. I paused a moment, waiting to see if he would respond. When he didn’t, I continued. “So….” I didn’t know where I was going at all with this half a conversation. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him about the other night, about his running off, and of course about the whole my tongue in his mouth incident. I was convinced he’d dive through an unopened window to prevent that conversation, though. I needed to think fast, as this was all levels of awkward. Hell, why had I even approached him? I ignored the obvious answer to that question and instead said, “You come here often?” I froze at how absurd I sounded. I seriously should have just backed away slowly, but then something happened that I didn’t expect, and damn if it didn’t make my gut tighten.

The handsome bastard smiled. It reached his eyes, and his mouth spread enough to show perfectly white teeth. “Do you need a moment to take it back, or are you just going to go with it?”

I laughed, possibly a little too loudly, but Scott was a conundrum. He appeared to teeter in fight-or-flight mode, while apparently throwing in an extraFof flirt for good measure. While the latter was definitely something I could get on board with, I didn’t trust how long this flirtatious Scott would last. A voice inside told me to be sensible and grab my drink and run, but I remained rooted to the spot, unwilling to pull away. “Not quite sure yet the best way to handle it, but perhaps it puts us on an equal footing of awkward moments and questions.”

Scott’s brows lifted a little, his mouth still curved upwards. “Touché.”

“Perhaps we can rewind just a little?” I reached out to pick up my beer and took a large mouthful. Cool and crisp, the liquid gave me a moment to collect myself. After swallowing, I angled a little more toward Scott, aware his gaze remained fixed on me. “So, you come here often?” My smile changed to a laugh in response to his deep snort and ringing laughter. “For real though, I mean with the new owners and such. You’ve been here a couple of months, right?”

With a bob of his head, Scott sobered a little, but there was still humor in his eyes. I hadn’t lost him completely. “Yeah, just a bit longer than that, but no, never this place. I wanted to check it out though, as I’d heard decent things about it.” His brown eyes remained connected to mine, and he smoothed his hair off his brow. “The owner, Ted, seems like a good guy.” He glanced around, possibly searching for Ted. I saw him standing off at the far side, pouring a drink and in conversation with a woman.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ve only been here for about an hour, and Ted seems really friendly.” I cleared my throat, hoping inspiration would hit for how to continue to hold a conversation. I was struggling, majorly. Was I so out of practice that I could no longer hold a decent conversation with a guy, who I admittedly found attractive, but whose presence confused me? I spoke to people all the time. Yeah, I liked to hide away in the kitchen whenever possible at work, but I could hold my own and carry conversations all day with customers. So why was I failing so spectacularly? I had no doubt at any moment he’d find a reason to leave, or hell, maybe he’d just tell me to fuck off.

I threw Scott an awkward smile, hoping it came off more relaxed and natural than it really was. The creases around his eyes dropped a little. I was losing him. “You been busy today?”

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