She pulled herself upright, re-centering. “Duty calls.” Her tone lightened. “Try not to scare off the locals while I’m gone.”
His answer came easy. “No promises.”
She turned.
His presence followed: quiet, focused, unrelenting.
When she came back,tray steady in her hands, he hadn’t moved. Same seat. Like he belonged to the space.
Fingers near the glass, gaze locked on her: not casual, not curious.
He looked at her like there were lines missing from the page, and he meant to find them.
A ripple passed through her: discomfort, curiosity, and something more primal.
She paused.
Too long.
Then stepped behind the bar, letting routine anchor her. Glasses clinked. Movement steadied her hands.
But he didn’t look away.
His silence pressed heavier than any pickup line.
She flicked a towel over her shoulder. “Planning to sit there all night, or just waiting for round two?” The question came casual, but her pulse betrayed her.
His mouth curved, slow and sure, hearing everything buried under the surface.
He’d noticed her voice immediately. Smooth. Measured. But textured beneath the surface. Not smoky. Not girlish. Something else. Something you remembered after one word.
“Didn’t plan to leave just yet,” he said, tone easy. “Unless I’ve worn out my welcome.”
Her breath caught; subtle, but real.
The challenge in his voice should’ve sparked a wall. Instead, it pulled her in.
His gaze dropped. Not leering. Not shy. Perceptive—noticing details like they mattered.
She didn’t match this place. Not exactly. But maybe that’s why she caught the light the way she did.
“Most people come here to drink,” she said, arms folding. “You don’t look like most people.”
“Neither do you.” He didn’t say it like a compliment. More like a fact.
She tilted her head. Studying him. “You never answered my question. What are you really doing here?”
He leaned back slightly, calm as ever. “If I said I was just passing through… would you believe me?”
“Not for a second.”
His laugh was low. Warm. Surprising. “You’re good,” he said.
She lifted a brow. “At seeing through bullshit?”
He took another sip. “At making me want to keep talking.”
The silence stretched again,but this time, it wasn’t sharp. Something was gathering in the quiet. Unsaid, but not unnoticed.
