The tequila burned going down, but it loosened something in me.I poured drinks, joked with customers, and even did another shot or two with Adam and one of the servers.For a moment, the gossip, the stares, the whispers, all of it, faded into the background.
I could breathe here.
And I knew part of that was because of who was watching me.
Brody.
He stood at the far end of the bar, leaning casually against a post, his eyes scanning the room, but I felt his gaze every time it landed on me.
I forced myself to look away, heart beating just a little too fast.
Clara and Mason arrived around nine.
Clara looked nervous, like she was waiting for the ground to shift beneath her feet, but Mason looked… hopeful.Happier than I’d seen him in months.
As they passed the bar, he brushed my arm lightly and whispered, “Thank you.”
Before I could respond, Adam swept past me, murmuring just loud enough for me to hear, “You’re magic, little Morgan.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but my throat tightened unexpectedly.
As the night wore on, I stole moments to watch them, Clara and Mason, dancing slowly in the middle of the crowd, laughing softly in each other’s space.My chest ached, but not in the way I expected.
After everything, after the wreckage and heartbreak, maybe they’d make it through.
Therapy.Honesty.The truth about Mel and her obsessive spiral.She had been stalking them long before he had ever hired her.Clara was letting him back in, bit by bit, and Mason looked like he’d crawl across glass to earn it.
I wanted that kind of hope for her.That kind of honest love.
Maybe, someday, for me too.
Love wasn’t easy, not for them, not for anyone.But watching them, I wanted to believe it was worth fighting for.
Five minutes to midnight, the crowd was electric.Someone popped a bottle of champagne behind the bar, foam spilling over onto the counter, laughter chasing it down.
I was setting fresh glasses out when I felt him before I saw him, the warmth at my back, the quiet gravity of him.
Brody.
His chest pressed lightly against my shoulder blades, grounding and steady.His hand brushed mine where it rested on the bar, just for a second, then moved away.
When he leaned down, his lips brushed the edge of my temple, soft and deliberate.
“Happy New Year, Cass,” he whispered, so low it was meant only for me.
My breath caught, but before I could respond, he was gone, moving back through the crowd to where Adam waved him over.
The countdown blurred by in a haze of champagne bubbles and confetti, accompanied by the pulse of music beneath our feet.
I laughed at something Adam shouted from across the room, clinked glasses with Clara, and tried not to think about the warmth still lingering at my temple.
Tried and failed.
Because the truth was, Brody Palmer terrified me, not because I didn’t trust him, but because Idid.Because when he’d asked me for tomorrow, for a day that was just ours, I’d said yes.
And I wanted it.
Maybe too much.
