Page 59 of The Bourbon Bet
Sebastian
My footsteps echo as I follow Daniel down the corridor, my fingers clawing through my hair, nails biting into my scalp. I don’t care if I look unhinged; it matches my roiling insides.
I touch my lips. The taste of Rosalia’s kiss lingers. My pulse quickens, recalling how her body melted against mine, how perfectly she fit in my arms. The memory alone makes my skin flush hot beneath my collar. But as the initial euphoriafades, reality crashes in. She’s working with Thorne. My brother. The man whose very existence threatens everything I’ve sacrificed years to build.
We reach the polished bar in the main ballroom. Daniel leans against the agarwood surface, his usual easy grin gone. I know him too well. He’s about to lecture me on the incredible kiss that captivated me, and now is suffocating me with guilt.
Yet after we order our drinks, he returns to staring at me. Annoyed, I roll my hand in an out-with-it gesture. “Say what you want to say.”
“Your bookstore bet seems to be going well. Does what I saw mean you’re taking my advice and trusting her?”
I scowl, tapping an agitated rhythm on the polished bar. I avoid Daniel’s gaze, focusing instead on the bartender mixing our drinks. “Trust her? Not a chance. I might understand why she’s doing what she’s doing, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to hand over my heart.”
Daniel’s brows raise. “And yet…”
I snort. “That wasn’t my heart doing the thinking…” That isn’t the whole truth. Yeah, I was turned on, but what I feel around her is more than lust. I press my thumb against the condensation on the bar top, drawing jagged patterns that mirror the chaos she’s creating in me. “I can’t help myself, dammit. When I’m near her, it’s like gravity.”
"What if she's acting," I mutter, running my thumb over my lower lip, the phantom press of her mouth still lingers against mine. Even now, well away from her, my body responds to the mere thought of her. She seems real. Genuine.
“What if she’s not?” Daniel counters.
The way she responded to my kiss didn’t feel fake. I shake my head and mutter, “I need to figure it out before I lose myself completely.”
Daniel’s staring again. “What?” I nearly growl.
“I’ve never seen you like this with anyone. Not with any girls you dated in college or even Tiffany. You’re scared,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “And not just of losing the company.”
I scoff. “Let me remind you again, psychoanalysis isn’t in your job description, counselor.”
“Stop deflecting.” Daniel leans in, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Every time someone gets close, you find a reason why it won’t work.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, but the words are hollow.
“Don’t I? You’d rather believe Rosalia is acting than consider the possibility that she might actually care about you. Because if she does, and you let yourself care back, you might have to face that you’re not as unbreakable as you pretend to be.”
I open my mouth to argue, then close it. The uncomfortable truth of his words settles in my gut like a stone. With a slight shake of his head, Daniel says, “You’ve backed yourself into a tough spot with her and this bet.”
“No shit.” I square my shoulders as if bracing for a fight. Which I am. I can’t afford to show weakness, not now, not with so much at stake.
“But what if she doesn’t go through with it?” Daniel asks.
“What if she does?” I counter.
“Then it sucks. I honestly can’t blame her, but if I were in your shoes, things would be over.”
“Besides all this, there’s more at stake than my damn ego.” I knock my fist on the bar top. “At this distillery alone, I have at least two thousand people working for me. Many for decades, but my brother would let them go if it’d save the company a short-term nickel."
“Okay, so fine, you’re in this mess. A big one. What do you plan to do to get out of it? Do you plan to make her fall for you so she doesn’t help Thorne, then dump her because you don’t trust her?”
“Fuck, I don’t know what to do,” I hiss. “I want her, but can’t trust her.”
Maybe that’s the answer. I could have her, be with her, but keep my heart out of it. We give in to our desires, but nothing more. At least until I’m sure I can trust her. Could I do that? I already like her way too much.
What scares me isn’t that I like her despite her lies, it’s the possibility that I could fall. With Rosalia, I catch glimpses of the man I could be if I weren’t so damn guarded. She makes me want things I’d convinced myself I didn’t need.
“The truth is,” I say, lowering my voice, "letting someone in again feels like handing them a loaded gun and hoping they don’t pull the trigger.”
“Just because there were some people who were supposed to have your back and didn’t, doesn’t mean everyone’s out to make you bleed,” Daniel tells me.
