Page 37 of Beyond Friendship

He agrees, nodding. “Let me know when you can come over to Six-Pack and we’ll walk through the plan then. Maybe new thoughts will come up.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “I’ll need to check with the owner, ask if I can come earlier so I don’t have to overwhelm Alisha during her pregnancy.”

Brian’s grin becomes electric, radiating a warmth that washes over me like a soothing balm. His intense gaze holds mine for a moment longer than necessary, and I feel my heart flutter in response. “You’re an amazing boss and friend, Amanda Brown,” he murmurs.

Our eye contact lingers in the silence; both of us straining against the electricity between us. The atmosphere becomes so thick with unspoken words that I can almost feel them crowding the air. He eventually steps away and strides to the worktop, yet it feels as if an invisible thread still ties us together.

He opens the cabinet. “Tea?”

“Sure, but since when are you drinking tea?” I say with a chuckle.

He gives a half-shrug. “Doctor suggested that I lower my alcohol intake, and I found out coffee later at night isn’t working out well for me. So my mum gave me this Relax Tea.” He holds up the small bag in his hand and smirks.

“How is your mom doing?”

He answers while opening the bag. “Much better, now that I’m out of the hospital. She only calls me once a day instead of three, which, to be honest, was getting a bit too much.” The soft smile appearing on his lips kindles warmth in my heart.

“Well, it shows what a caring mom she is.”

His face lights up with love and pride. “She is. She’s the most important person in the world to me. I try to visit her every Wednesday, and if I’m lucky enough, I get to have dinner with her. Best beef stew in the world, trust me.”

I grin at the scene painted before me and I whisper, “That’s sweet.”

His shoulders lift in a shrug, but I notice the corners of his mouth turn up as he turns away to fetch two mugs of steaming hot water. When he turns back to me, a daring question finds its way out of my mouth.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

My gaze locks with his and the amusement fades from his face. He takes a deep breath before answering, “Depends how personal?”

I feel the courage in me growing. “I’ve been wondering... why did you say no when I asked for your help?”

His eyes search mine for a moment before he looks away and speaks.

“I wanted to help you, but I had an appointment with the doctor earlier that day. He told me I needed to plan for an operation in a short time span. And since I planned on not telling anyone about it, I figured it was better to say no to you than risk having you find out.”

My heart clenches tight in empathy as I realize the lengths this man has gone to mask his illness. His façade is a tough shield of masculinity, but underneath it all, a fragile vulnerability persists. This moment marks the first time he’s ever been so honest about his emotions, and something about it is oddly comforting. “How are you feeling now?” I ask, praying that he’ll share more with me about his innermost feelings.

He sets the two cups down on the table, and after taking a seat opposite me, he places his clasped hands on the table. “Still struggling.” The soberness in his tone makes me swallow. “For years, I was able to brush off the random palpitations and dizzy spells as nothing, which made it easier to ignore the gravity of the situation. But now… seeing the scar and having lived through an attack, it’s hard to ignore.”

The fear and uncertainty in his soulful irises are almost palpable. The thought of him dealing with this on his own for all these years saddens me. Because they are the things you should share with people you trust so they can support you. Without thinking, I take his hand in mine. I want him to know he’s not alone anymore. His gaze darts to our now joined hands, and I expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. Instead, his thumb traces dizzying circles over my skin.

“When life gives you lemons,” he murmurs, “grab tequila and salt and start the party.”

In daily life, Brian tends to only show no other than the charismatic nightclub owner, but there’s no trace of the usual flirtatious behavior he normally has on. No, this is a side of him I love most, the side that draws me in and pulls at places deep within my heart.

We remain in silence, our hands locked, and I’m all too aware of the warmth of his skin against mine, and I can’t help but wonder if he can feel my heart beating faster. I could get used to this. Him and me. Sitting like this after a long day or simply because we want to.

My mind uses this moment to remind me of our conversation in the car this morning. The one where he admitted that his heart condition is the reason he’s been denying our connection. Before I can stop myself, the words spill out of my mouth in one breath. “So your heart condition is one of the reasons you stay away from romantic relationships?”

And just like that, the moment we’re sharing is gone and tension mounts as he slides his fingers away from mine. Dread fills my chest as I witness his expression changing into one of wariness.

“Romantic relationships just aren’t for me, Amanda.”

In the past, I would have accepted this answer, but with his tone carrying no conviction, I refuse to accept it so easily.

“How do you know if you haven’t tried?” I challenge him.

A heavy silence hangs between us before he responds, his tone sharp.

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