“At least he doesn’t draw all over the walls.”
“Yet.”
She snort-laughs. “Speaking of children, how’re you holding up?”
Propping a hip against the bar, I release a downhearted sigh. “I wasn’t prepared for the separation anxiety.”
Being away from Fénix, even if it’s only been a few hours since I got here, has been excruciating. How are working moms able to do this every day without their hearts breaking into a thousand pieces?
Shelby removes an elastic hairband she’s wearing on her wrist, gathers her long, dark hair, and secures it in a ponytail. “Ithink I cried my entire shift the first time I left Christian with Mom. Got good tip money that night. You may want to try it.”
With our busy schedules and her son’s bout with the flu, we’ve been like ships passing in the night. I’ll need to plan a girls’ night out with her and Raquelle soon. After being surrounded by male energy twenty-four/seven, I’m desperate for some female companionship.
“Invitation to spend Thanksgiving with us still stands,” I remind her.
“I wish we could, but Grandma would kill me if I skipped out on the family turkey supper. After feeding us, we’re put to hard labor. Christmas decorations. By the time we’re finished, her house looks like a Vegas casino that can be seen from space.”
Constantine has the same plan. There are boxes upon boxes of stuff he bought that are currently taking up the space that used to be Hendrix’s room. I can’t wait to see what the inflatable dinosaur looks like.
Froth sloshes over the lip of the pitcher of beer when Keith sets it down on Shelby’s tray. He adds four empty pint glasses.
“Thanks,” she tells him and promptly carries everything over to a group of after-work businessmen watching the football game on the big screen. I keep my wary eye on the blond who prefers looking at Shelby rather than the game being played.
“Bryan is harmless,” Keith says good-humoredly.
“As long as he looks and doesn’t touch.” Because the second he crosses that line, he’s going to wind up with ten broken fingers, and the wedding ring he’s sporting shoved up his ass.
“Table six.” Keith plops an IPA down in front of me and winks.
“Winking kind of gives you away.” I roll my eyes at his husky chuckle and grab the bottle by the neck.
Those damnable light-gray eyes quietly follow me as I walk over. “Would you like to order anything else? You must be hungry after staring at me for three hours.”
He slides out the chair next to him. “Sit with me.”
“I’m working.”
“Your break is coming up.”
It’s infuriating that he knows that. “Which I’ll be spending in the back room, eating cold pasta salad.”
“I miss you.”
God damn him. I miss him too. I see him every day, but it’s the emotional distance that hurts. I know it’s a chasm I created, but I didn’t know any other way to get through to him and make him understand that going after Viktor on his own—Pyotr notwithstanding—was reckless and dangerous. We’re stronger together. His battles are my battles. That’s what loving someone?—
Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!
“Shelby will close out your tab.” I ram into someone in my haste to get away and get beer spilled all over me.
“I am so sorry,” the guy stutters, immediately lowering his head and backing away when I pull at the bottom of my shirt that’s suctioned to my stomach.
I don’t need any kowtowing Society bullshit right now. It just makes me angrier, especially when I can feel Aleksander’s looming presence at my back.
“Not your fault,” I tell the guy and storm off.
Just as I open the door to Keith’s office, Aleksander pushes his way inside, his intimidating size blocking the only way out. “This avoidance crap is getting old.”
