It takes everything I have to drag my eyes away from her as she and Izzy put their heads together, looking over the gigantic binder she’s pulled out of her bag.
They’re at one of the longer tables near the back, the same one I walked in on Odette moving last week. She’d disappeared to use the bathroom, and when she was gone way longer than necessary, I went searching for her to find her messing around in here. She claimed she had to rearrange things for “aesthetics.” We argued for five minutes on that until I eventually walked away and let her do whatever she wanted. I hate admitting it, but I do like the new layout. In fact, I’ve liked everything she’s done in the taproom so far, from moving the tables and chairs around to redoing the decor on the walls to replacing our old board games without my permission. It’s small stuff, but it’s already making a difference with our customers.
“Worked the numbers again.” Ezra walks into the bar from the back office with his laptop, setting it down in front of me. “Don’t know what you’re doing, but we’re actually under budget on the barn.”
“I’m not done with it yet.”
“I know, but keep that up, and we might stay that way.”
He closes the laptop, rests his back against the bar.
“They working on the wedding?”
“Yep,” I say, still not looking away from Odette. Even though I should, I can’t seem to make myself do so.
Or want to.
As if she can feel my stare, she looks over at me, and our eyes connect.
I lose my breath. It’s like someone has reached right into my chest and has wrapped their fist around my lungs, squeezing so damn tight that I can’t breathe even if I tried.
And damn, do I try. Yet nothing happens until Odette looks away, her attention falling back to Izzy.
I release the trapped breath shakily, and beside me, Ezra grunts.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing, man.”
But the smirk on his lips doesn’t saynothing. It says a lot.
And I don’t know why I do it, but I find myself inching closer to him and saying, “We kissed.”
Ezra doesn’t react. Not a brow quirk or slackened jaw. Not even a twitch.
Did he hear me?
“We kissed,” I whisper again, my eyes darting around to make sure nobody is paying attention. They aren’t. Everyone is lost in their own conversations. “As in me and Odette. Last night.”
“I heard you the first time,” he says. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around why the fuck you thought that was a good idea.”
I exhale heavily, running a hand through my hair that I did absolutely nothing with this morning. “Fuck, I don’t know. I have no clue. I just ... I did it.”
“I know.”
“What?”
“I know why.”
“Yeah?” I huff. “Then tell me, oh wise one, why I fucking kissed my little sister’s best friend?”
“Because you wanted to.”
He says it so simply, like it’s the only possible answer.
And he’s right. Ididdo it because I wanted to, but I shouldn’t want it. I shouldn’t want her.
“I’m taking it Izzy doesn’t know?”
