Page 18 of Midnights
I laugh to myself as I head toward the bar for some water. But just as I turn around, I walk straight into a wall of muscle.
Literally.
I bounce off him hard enough that I probably would’ve toppled over completely if two strong hands hadn’t wrapped around my shoulders, steadying me.
And if I'm being honest, he’s doing a lot more than just holding me up right now.
His grip is firm, and…incrediblyeffective at keeping me upright. Which, to be fair, is probably for the best, considering I was struggling to walk in a straight line earlier.
I try to look up, hoping to get a glimpse of his face, only to realize that I've run into an actual human brick wall. My heart skips a beat as I take in just how solid he is. It's the kind of effortless strength that makes my stomach dip unexpectedly.
He’s still holding onto me and trying to get a good look at his face is proving to be difficult.
Mostly because—holy hell—he’s tall. Up close, it's even more obvious. He has a strong build, and the kind of confidence that comes with knowing exactly how good he looks. Not that I care. But still…
I tilt my head back slightly, realizing I might need a damn step stool if I want a proper view. And then, he speaks.
“Excuse me, lass,” his tone is low and playful, but I can hear the amusement dancing in his voice. “Good thing I was here to catch ye, eh?”
Then, he winks. His blonde hair falls into his face and he shakes it back into place.
The accent alone makes the whole moment so much worse, in the best possible way.
Heat floods my face, betraying me instantly. I let out a nervous laugh, completely aware of how ridiculous I must look staring up at him like some kind of drooling idiot.
Luckily, I recover quickly.Mostly.
“Well, to be fair, if you hadn’t been standing there when I turned around, I wouldn’t have needed catching.” I keep my tone playful, despite the fact that my heart is hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.
His grin widens, and I become hyper-aware of the fact that his hand is still lightly resting on my arm. A slow burn seeps into my skin, making it incredibly difficult to think.
“However,” I add quickly, trying not to sound breathless, “I do appreciate it. I’d really hate to face-plant in front of a room full of strangers.”
He throws his head back and laughs. It's a deep, rich sound that seems to fill the whole room, and relief floods through me. At least he has a sense of humor.
“What are you two doing in a place like this?” His eyes are bright with curiosity. “Are you on holiday, or are ya here for work?”
I let out a soft chuckle, finally feeling a little steadier on my feet. “We’re here for anything and everything. Adventure. Exploring. Some family stuff.” I scrunch my nose at the thought of working. “And, unfortunately, I do have to work a little bit.”
Something unreadable flickers behind his eyes. The low lighting doesn't help. I can’t tell if the sudden heat creeping up my neck is because of him, but I suddenly feel very warm under his stare.
I shift, forcing a casual tone. “What about you?”
His chuckle is quiet. And that’s when I notice a single, devastating little dip on one side of his mouth.
Okay, he’s not thebeautiful man bun guyfrom earlier by any means, but he’s stillveryattractive. And that accent is enough to make any rational thought evaporate.
I realize that he’s still talking and my brain scrambles to catch up, praying I don’t look as dazed as I feel.
“... and yes, most of us live in the area. We’re actually out celebrating.”
Meanwhile, I’m standing here, barely holding onto my last two brain cells.
“Well, now I have to know,” I say, tilting my head. “What kind of celebration involves a dart game?”
His lips twitch like I just asked him something ridiculous. And maybe I have. But really, when I thinkcelebration,I don’t immediately picture a bunch of grown men yelling over darts like their lives depend on it.
“To be fair,” he laughs as amusement flickers in his eyes again. “It started with drinks, then someone made a bet, and now…” he gestures toward the commotion behind him, where accusations fly across the bar. “Now it’s a full-on war.”
