Controlled.
Devastating.
Every inch of my spine lights up.
He pulls back quickly, like the contact burned him.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
The word sounds strangled.
Ethan, now walking toward us with two cups of coffee, and mutters, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath.
Jace clears his throat. Straightens and forces his expression into something neutral.
“Well,” he says stiffly. “I won’t continue to interrupt,” he motions between us, “your date.”
“It’s not a…,” I start to say.
But Brian waves it off. “No worries, you’re good.”
Jace looks at him like he absolutely, one hundred percent wants to keep interrupting.
Then his gaze shifts back to me.
It softens for half a second, just enough for me to see the crack under all that restraint.
Then he steps back.
“Have a good morning,” he says, but the words scrape like he hates them.
“You too,” I whisper.
He turns away too quickly. Ethan gives me a sympathetic look mixed with exasperation, then follows him out the door.
The bell chimes again, and they’re gone.
The silence that follows is crushing.
Brian takes a sip of his coffee. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Did I… do something? Because I feel like I did something.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale. “No. You didn’t do anything.”
He nods once. “Right. Because that man looked at me like I offended him. Or maybe I was somewhere I didn’t belong.”
A weak laugh escapes me. “It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
I look down at my cup. “The kind of complicated I can’t explain.”
Brian considers this, then nods. “Fair enough. Thanks for being honest.”
I meet his eyes. “I don’t want to waste your time.”
“You’re not,” he says gently. “But you’re also not available. Are you?”
The honesty punches straight through my chest.
