Page 74 of When the Storm Breaks
The words barely exist in the space between us, but they hit me like a goddamn train.
She plops back down on the barstool, movements loose andunsteady. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against mine—light, tentative—before resting there. Waiting.
I flinch.
Pure instinct. Pure defense. But the look on her face stops me cold.
She’s drunk, yeah. A little lost in it. But there’s something else. Something raw and open in the way she let those words slip.
Like she didn’t mean to say it, but she won’t take it back either.
I can’t let her close up again.
I reach out, covering her hand with mine, leaning in slightly.
“What I think, Calla…”
She hums, eyes half-lidded.
“… is that you’re drunk, and it’s time for another glass of water and some sleep,” I finish, a slow grin tugging at my lips.
She laughs again. It’s like music. Golden, warm. Curling around my ribs.
I grab her water glass, refill it, and slide it toward her.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she announces, sliding off the barstool with a wobble. She grips the stool for balance, swaying slightly before straightening. “Can you watch my stuff?”
I glance around the now-empty bar and let out a short, dry laugh.
“There’s no one else here.”
She rolls her eyes, an amused smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
“Yes,” I say, still laughing. “I will watch your stuff.”
I watch her disappear down the hallway, my gaze lingering a second longer than it should before I turn back to the bar.
Grabbing a rag and a bottle of cleaner, I spray down the counter, wiping away the night’s mess. I rinse our wine glasses and leave herwater where it is—just in case she needs it when she gets back.
Movement catches my eye.
Tanner, hovering near the edge of the bar. His steps slower than usual.
“I’m gonna take off,” he says, voice subdued, not quite meeting my eyes. “Everything on my end is good to go. Tables are clean.”
I nod. “Sounds good. Thanks, Tanner. I’ll lock up in a bit.”
He nods back and grabs his jacket, heading for the door.
I exhale.
I can’t let him leave like this.
“Tanner.”
He stops, shifts slightly, but doesn’t turn all the way around. “Sup, Haiyden?”
I keep my tone even. “Sorry about earlier.”
