“This is the first time,” he said, then added, “Which probably makes me sound either very honest or very bad at this.”
I blinked, a small, half-amused smile tugging at my lips. “Uh... okay,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.
He continued. “And I promise I’m not trying to be creepy. I just—” He paused, searching for the right phrasing.
“When I saw you... I couldn’t really look away,” he said, then added quickly, “Which—sorry. That sounded worse in my head than it was.”
My cheeks warmed slightly. I let out a soft laugh, more awkward than flattered.
“That’s dangerously close to a line,” I said.
“I know,” he said easily. “I crossed it anyway.”
I shook my head, smiling despite myself, a faint flutter in my chest I wasn’t expecting.
“I’m Tommy,” he said, extending a hand. “Tommy Sullivan.”
“Elena,” I replied, shaking it. “Elena White.”
I had chosen to keep the name after the divorce, and somehow, it felt lighter now.
He smiled. “Your friend did a very thorough background check before leaving.”
“I noticed.”
“She is a good one.”
“She is,” I agreed. “Also very dramatic.”
He chuckled. “I appreciate the caution.”
“I can defend myself,” I said casually.
His brows lifted. “Oh?”
“I have excellent aim,” I added. “And low tolerance for nonsense.”
He laughed. “Good to know. For the record, I’m a cop.”
I paused. “You’re serious.”
“Off duty,” he added quickly. “And before you ask, no, this isn’t a sting.”
I smirked. “Disappointing. Undercover would’ve sounded cooler.”
“It would’ve,” he agreed.
We talked easily after that. Work. Drinks. Why he liked this bar.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked, direct but not abrupt.
I didn’t tense. That alone felt like progress.
“Divorced,” I said.
He winced slightly. “Okay. Is this bad timing or perfect timing for me to have bought you a drink?”
I considered that.
