“You’re drinking tonic water? You’re one of those LaCroix guys, aren’t you?”
“Cran-raspberry fuels me,” I said with a sniff. I wouldn’t deny it. I was a basic bitch. Sue me. I took a sip and grinned at him over the rim of my glass, and for a moment, I swore his pupils dilated. But maybe that was wishful thinking. I cleared my throat, then took another sip. “Can I go grab you something, or?—”
“I don’t drink,” he said. “Fucks with those meds they gave me for the nerve pain.”
I grimaced and nodded. “I’m not taking them now, but I have a stash in case it gets bad.” I flexed my stump, using the muscles I would have to wriggle my toes. “You, uh…”
“I don’t want to talk about recovery,” he blurted, cutting me off.
I held up my hands in surrender. “No worries, bud. It’s not my favorite topic either. But let me get you a Coke or something.”
He grimaced. “Just a water.”
It felt weird coming to the bar to order tonic and a water, but the fact that he agreed to meet me at all was sending my head into a spin. Things were better—yes. I feel like maybe hehated me a little less for being able to do more. And I understood where he was coming from and what he’d been through now that I’d finally started really listening.
“Heath?”
I jolted. Had he ever said my name before? Of course he had, but this might have been the first time it didn’t sound like he was spitting it at me. “Sorry.”
His lips twitched. “For what?”
I shrugged and gestured at myself.
At that, he threw his head back and let out a huge belly laugh—and god, the sound of his laugh was beautiful. “You’re so weird.”
I hunched a little. “I know. I get that a lot.”
His expression fell, and his hand twitched like he was going to reach for me but changed his mind at the last second. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’ve been such a dick.”
“I mean…yes,” I said with a quiet huff. “But I get it a little better now. I just…I don’t know. I didn’t realize how much your accident took from you.”
His face shuttered, but after a breath, he nodded. “Yeah. But I wouldn’t expect you to get it. You’re a civvie. And I don’t mean that as an insult,” he added like I might take offense to the truth.
“I didn’t think you were trying to hurt my feelings this time.” I shot him a smile because I couldn’t help it. He was still grumpy as fuck, but something about him just made me feel…I don’t know. Safe? Content?
There was some emotion building in my chest that I didn’t understand, but I didn’t want it to go away.
“I’ll be right back,” I said suddenly, hopping up from the booth.
His warm hand caught my wrist, and he held tight, freezing me with his gaze. “Did I say something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No. You just look thirsty, and I’m not going to let you hurt yourself walking around.” I carefully detached my wrist from his grasp and turned, forcing myself not to look back. I could feel his gaze on me as I reached the bar, then smiled at the bartender who wasn’t Zayd—and I was glad about that because the man always had me spilling my guts like it was my job every time he so much as looked at me. “Can I get an ice water?”
The guy nodded, then turned away, and I drummed my fingers on the marble. I needed to do something. It was shit or get off the pot time. I was afraid to test the waters with Creek, but I didn’t want to play this weird cat-and-mouse game with him any longer.
I was driving myself crazy.
I was?—
A warm hand touched my wrist again, and I jumped, spinning around. Creek stood there with one crutch and a dark gaze. He swallowed heavily, then pushed his body forward, pinning me to the bar.
“Heath,” he said again. This time, my name sounded like a prayer. I watched his full lips curve around the letters. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He licked his lips. “Kissing you.”
My body went hot. “I didn’t mind. I mean, I minded the moment and how it happened. But in different circumstances, I would have wanted it.” What was I doing?
