Page 57 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
I catch sight of her near the back, tucked into a crescent-shaped booth with three others, framed by flickering candlelight and the blue glint of glass behind the bar.
Stevie doesn’t look bored. Her head’s thrown back in laughter, manicured hand resting flat on the table like she’s trying to steady herself. She looks lit from inside. Confident. Polished. Entirely at home.
When she sees me, her smile blooms instantly, the one that’s only mine. She waves me over and shifts sideways on the tufted velvet to make room. Her hand slides to my arm when I reach her, a quick squeeze on my jacket sleeve before her lips brush my cheek.
“You made it.” She beams happily. Her hand stays on my thigh as I scoot into the booth beside her. “Everyone. This is my boyfriend, Padraig. Padraig, meet Rhea, Anthony, and Cooper.”
Rhea’s angular and sophisticated in a pressed navy pantsuit and sleek bob. “Ah, the famous drummer boyfriend.”
Anthony’s in sales. You can tell before he opens his mouth. Pink shirt, open collar, charm dialed up enough to make you wonder if he’s ever actually off the clock. He gives me an easy grin and raises his glass.
Cooper’s the last to look up. He’s a normal dude in a white button-down, sleeves rolled halfway. Sharp jaw with dark curls smoothed back. Steel-blue eyes. Something unreadable sits behind them. He lifts his glass in a slow half toast but doesn’t say anything.
His fingers tap the base of the glass once. Then again.
His elbow’s hooked along the back of the booth, behind Stevie and I’m not proud of how fast I clock the distance. He’s not touching her so it’s not inappropriate. Too comfortable, though.
“Good to meet you all.” I nod politely.
Stevie’s hand shifts beneath the table. Finds mine. She laces our fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She leans in, her shoulder against mine, warm and solid.
“Sorry we started without you,” she whispers close to my ear.
“I don’t mind.”
She squeezes my hand again, and turns back toward the group, launching into some story about a vendor double-booking a ballroom. They laugh. I listen. Mostly to her voice. The way she’s mastered the rhythm of this new world. She’s light, witty and self-deprecating and sounds like she was born here.
I keep my eye on Cooper, though. He’s not watching her constantly. That’d be obvious. He’s aware of everything she does. He laughs when she laughs. His gaze drifts when she speaks. Every time she shifts, his posture adjusts by degrees. Always a few beats behind. Always tuned in.
It’s not possessive. Not even flirtatious. It’s worse.
It’s familiar.
He looks at her how I look at her.
She turns to me when the server stops by. “You want a drink?”
“Sure.”
“What do you feel like?”
“Root beer, if they’ve got it.”
My order gets Cooper’s approval, though I don’t need it. “Good for you. Stevie said you never drink alcohol. I admire a musician with discipline.”
I’m taken aback a bit. Has Stevie told him about my family? “Uh, thanks.”
The drinks arrive and Stevie settles into my side. Her knee touches mine. She’s warm. Engaged. Not hiding our relationship, in fact she gushes about how long we’ve been together. Part of me is surprised her coworkers know how important I am to her. The other part is proud.
We hold hands under the table and, once again, I realize I’ve never seen her this alive talking about anything that didn’t involve both of us.
It makes me feel small, in a way. Which sucks and isn’t fair. I haven’t made any progress since she left. I’m living in Pullman. Fireball’s on the brink of imploding due to tension with Felicity. Everything’s up in the air because Linus confirmed he’d have to leave next year.
What the fuck am I doing?
I glance down at our joined hands. Then at Cooper. He’s fully engaged in a discussion about some valet scandal with the others. He may look at her adoringly, but Stevie isn’t interested. He also doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d step in where he doesn’t belong.
In an instant, I realize, he’s not the threat.
