Page 15 of Beneath the Surface

He gives her a chin nod, and Annabelle forces a laugh. My eyes volley between them as her hand presses against his forearm. “Hewasplanning to leave, but I convinced him to stick around a while.”

I ignore the sudden pinch in my chest and force a laugh. “You’ve always been a good salesman.”

Alex clears his throat and shifts, his calf brushing mine just slightly under the table. Electricity races up my leg.

I sip from my water. “It’s a good thing you started showing up to our diner then, huh, Alex?”

“Itdefinitelyis.” Annabelle’s fingers tighten on his arm as she looks up at him adoringly. “Thanks for coming out, I didn’t know if you would.”

He shrugs. “Had some business in Phoenix this weekend, anyway.”

My eyebrows draw in as I wonder what he does for a living. As I wonder, for the thousandth time since he walked into my restaurant and sat down in my booth, why he’s here.

Annabelle leans in, whispering something in his ear that makes him grin, and I force my eyes away, not sure why the image of them together makes nausea churn in my gut.

Natalie smirks as she watches me from across the table. “Wanna go grab some drinks at the bar?”

My heart pounds faster against my ribs, and my hands grow clammy. “Oh, I don’t drink.”

Her smile falters. “What? Like… not at all?”

Gulping down air, I suck my teeth. “Not at all.”

Andthisis the other reason I don’t ever go out. Because I don’t particularly like being put into situations like this, where people expect me to cave in to societal norms. To live and breathe the pastime that gives them a simple night of fun, yet leaves me teetering on the edge of a crumbling cliff.

“Oh well that’s… boring.” She frowns.

The smile on my face grows as I push down the ache that’s splitting my chest.I shouldn’t have come tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair and sitting up straighter. “I like to think that I’m a naturally fun person.”

She makes a face, but doesn’t try to keep the conversation going, and a sour feeling swirls in my stomach. This is awkward. I haven’tpeople’din a long time, and where I used to be a natural, now it just feels… forced.

Maybe I’m just out of practice.

“You don’t drink?” Annabelle asks.

I shake my head. “Nope, not for years.”

“How come?” She tilts her head.

My fingers scratch at my wrist.

“Who cares?” Alex cuts in. “I don’t drink either.”

My breath whooshes out, and Annabelle’s head snaps to him. “What?”

His brow rises. “Is that a problem?”

“N-no,” she stutters. “I just assumed, I guess. Most people do, and—”

“So becausemostdo that meanseveryoneshould?” he presses.

A warmth unfurls through my chest, and I soak him in greedily while his gaze is stuck on her.

He definitely looks like a drinker, but I learned a long time ago that first impressions never tell the true story. Curiosity over whathisstory is wraps around my edges.

Annabelle shakes her head. “No, I—”

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