His eyes widened, then narrowed. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
For a moment, I thought he might argue. His jaw worked, hands clenching into fists. But then he backed toward a sleek Porsche SUV. “This isn’t over,” he said, pointing at me. “I know people. Important people. You just made a big mistake.”
“Get in your car.”
He did, slamming the door hard enough to make the frame shudder. The engine roared to life, and he peeled out of the parking lot, gravel spitting from his tires.
I stood there in the darkness, watching his taillights disappear down the road. My heart was pounding, adrenaline singing through my veins.
Despite the noise and voices coming from the bar, the parking lot was now quiet. I strode toward my car and got in, hitting the locks.
Donny Phelan was gone. But as I drove out of the gravel lot, I could’ve sworn I still felt hostile eyes on me.
CHAPTER TWO
Keira
My house wasquiet as I went inside and turned off my security system. I was ready to get cozy, put something mindless on TV, and hopefully drift off without too much sleeplessness tonight.
Tossing my keys on the table, I stripped off my jacket, then my holster and gun. The handgun went in my lockbox in a kitchen cabinet, where I usually stored my service weapon at home. I had a personal gun locked in a safe in my bedroom too. As a cop, I appreciated always having a weapon close.
Had that been the case since I’d started this job? Honestly, I couldn’t remember. But maybe I’d gotten more cautious over the last couple years in particular. Not so optimistic and dreamy-eyed.
Heartache could do that to a girl.
I switched on the lights in the kitchen, then grabbed a pot and set it on the stove. Some warm, spicy chai. That was what I needed.
While I stirred in milk and the spice mix, I checked my phone. Vivian and Stephie were home safe and sound. Steph had even shared a few details about the rest of the date.
Stephie
The guys are really sweet. We might go out with them again. Maybe one of them has an annoying older brother for you?
I smiled as I sent a message back, telling her goodnight.
After the chai was ready, I added a little bourbon. Then snuggled on my couch and turned the TV on low.
Yet even sitting here curled up with a throw blanket over my lap and my hands around a warm mug of sweet milky tea, I felt an ache for the things I didn’t have.
Maybe I should’ve tried harder to date. I could’ve accepted the drink from that guy at the bar earlier. Gone home with him… spent the night.
Why didn’t I want that? Why did this empty space inside me have the exact shape and feel of the person who didn’t want me? Who hadn’t even cared enough about my friendship to stay in my life.
It wasn’t like Dean and I never had any contact. We were on a group text thread. Just a few weeks ago, Aiden had shared the latest picture of his and Jessi’s baby girl, Zoe. Dean and I had each given the picture a heart and said she was precious.
But we didn’t talk directly anymore. We used to be close. Maybe not best friends, but tight. Now, he felt like somebody I’d known in high school. Somebody who’d shared a brief part of my history, but who was essentially a stranger now.
Two years should’ve been enough to get over him. And yet it wasn’t. It was just enough for all those feelings I’d had for him to turn bitter. Like a jar sitting on the shelf too long and going rancid.
Damn, I sounded cynical.
I set down the tea and flopped backward on the couch, wishing I’d kissed him just once before he left so I’d knowwhat it was like. Would that be better, the knowing? Or worse?
He was probably an amazing kisser. Giving and careful in bed with a woman, at least at first, and then later he would turn those intense blue eyes on her and pull her so close she could hardly breathe, and then…
“Why?” I asked the quiet room. “Why do I do this to myself? How am I this pathetic?”
