Page 13 of Other Side Of Never
Taking advantage of the relative quiet as the band took their break, I slid onto the vacant stool beside Kian.
Lifting my drink, I found the straw with the tip of my tongue and drew it into my mouth before taking a sip of the deceptively sweet concoction.
Kian’s eyes dropped to my mouth, his lids growing heavy as he watched.
The zing that jolted through my pelvis warned me to go easy on the cocktails.I cleared my throat.I was here to make him feel welcome, not welcome him to cop a feel.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
He lifted his glass.“Straight up Pepsi for me.”
“You don’t drink?”
Kian shook his head and looked down at the bar for a second before answering.“Never.”
That ephemeral something I noticed last time I’d been with him hit me again.Despite his large stature, the breadth of his shoulders, and the steely muscles in his arms, he needed someone in his corner to protect him from shouldering the harsher realities of the world alone.
A soft place to land.
For reasons I couldn’t begin to understand, my desire to be that someone bordered on desperation.
My chest expanded to house the unfamiliar warmth even as I considered his words.I cocked my head to the side and leaned closer.Dropping my voice for his ears only, I asked, “Alcoholic?”
He slanted me an amused look.“You’re very forward.”
You’re too brash and abrupt.It’s off-putting.And frankly embarrassing.
“Sorry.”I drew back immediately.Struggling to meet his eyes, I apologized.“None of my business.”
His eyes softened.“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
I snorted and hazarded a second glance.“Isn’t it?”
The laugh lines around his eyes deepened.“At least there’s no room for miscommunication.”
Shaking my head ruefully, I corrected him, “Oh no, apparently I’m lacking there as well.”
“Hm,” he hummed.“I lost my wife to a drunk driver.Haven’t been able to stomach the stuff since.”
My startled gaze flew up to find his eyes soft on my face.“I’m sorry.”
As soon as the words passed my lips, I winced.Was there a weaker phrase in the English language?‘I’m sorry.’Of course you’re sorry.We’re all fucking sorry.
Sorry doesn’t change anything.
I winced.
“Thank you.”He tipped his glass up to his mouth.
Loathe to leave him to his solitude, I wracked my brain for something else to talk about.“How are things going with Aaron?”
He sputtered and coughed, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then chuckled, his eyes alight.“You’re not very good at small talk.”
Inside, I shrank, curling my shoulders in slightly.Outside, I moaned theatrically to cover my shame.“I’m really not.”
Reaching out, he gently and all-too-briefly covered my hand with his.“It’s a good thing, Bridge.You’re a good soul.”His eyes twinkled.“There’s no doubt in my mind what you’re thinking.For me, especially right now, that’s a really good thing.”
It was the first time he’d truly looked at me without a single hint of wariness.The life and mischief he’d passed on to both of his sons shone in his eyes.
