This time she does smile.Small.Crooked.Like she's just decided I might be worth the effort."Enya."
"Tank."
"Tank," she repeats, eyebrow arching."Is that a nickname or did your ma hate you?"
"Nickname."
"Right.Let me guess, rugby?"
"Bike club."
Her eyes drop to the patch on my chest and linger there for a heartbeat, then come back up.Something shifts in her expression.Not fear, but not exactly respect either.Just...awareness.
"Fury Vipers," she says.Not a question.
"Yeah."
She nods once, then pushes off the bar and moves down to serve someone else.I watch her go.Watch the way she moves, all confidence and grace.Watch the way she pours whiskey without measuring, the way she laughs at something the guy says but doesn't mean it.
I shouldn't be looking.
I look anyway.
Twenty minutes pass, maybe thirty.I nurse my pint and try to focus on nothing, but my eyes keep finding her.She's good at her job; fast, efficient, and never flustered.But there's something underneath.Something tight in her shoulders, in the line of her jaw.Like she's holding something back.
I know that look.I wear it myself most days.
She comes back eventually and refills my glass without asking, then she leans against the bar again, close enough that I can smell her—something clean and sharp, citrus maybe, underneath the beer and smoke.
"You gonna tell me why you're staring?"she asks.
"Wasn't staring."
"You were absolutely staring."
"Observing."
"That what we're calling it?"Her lips curve."Alright, Observer.What'd you observe?"
I take a drink, set the glass down."You don't like it here."
Her smile falters.Just for a second."What makes you say that?"
"The way you stand.The way you look at people when they talk to you.You're good at this, but you don't want to be."
She stares at me long enough that I think I've fucked it, crossed some line I didn't know was there.Then she huffs out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh.
"Christ," she mutters."You one of those lads who thinks he can read people?"
"Just calling it like I see it."
"And what if you're wrong?"
"Then tell me I'm wrong."
She holds my gaze.Doesn't say a word.Doesn't have to.
"Thought so," I say.
