Nina turned back to the guy beside her, lifted a brow slightly, and with a light, almost mocking smile said:
“Well, see? My date showed up. I told you I wasn’t alone.”
The guy stiffened. He shot a quick glance at Jasper, sizing him up, trying to figure out who exactly had walked in so boldly and disrupted his game. His lips tightened, his jaw twitched—but he said nothing. Nina looked at him with a hint of superiority, refusing to look away. Jasper watched this strange, silent exchange, and felt something inside him slowly unclench.
So she wasn’t interested in that guy.
Good.
The realization brought a wave of unexpected relief.
The man exhaled sharply, leaned back, finished his drink, and set the empty glass down with a loud clink. Without looking at either of them, he stood up, shot Jasper one last irritated glare, and walked off.
A quiet victory. A crooked smirk tugged at Jasper’s lips.
Nina watched the man leave, then slowly turned back to Jasper, tilting her head slightly. Her eyes glimmered strangely in the warm bar light—something playful, a little reckless, flickering deep inside.
Jasper slid into the newly vacated seat, not rushing. He turned toward her, though not too close—leaving space, yet sitting near enough to feel her presence.
He glanced at her glass—an opaque, frothy drink.
“And what are you having?” he asked, tilting his head.
She rolled her eyes and laughed softly.
“It’s called‘Silent Night.’A non-alcoholic cocktail: raspberry syrup, soda, lime juice, a little mint.”
“I figured I’d stick to water,” he said, lifting his glass, the cool surface chilling his fingers.“No bubbles.”
She smirked, raised her drink, chin slightly tilted. The faint smile playing on her lips made Jasper realize he had never seen her like this.
They clinked glasses—quietly, lightly, without breaking eye contact. She took a sip, and he followed her lead. She set her drink down and slowly traced the rim with her finger.
“Solid choice,” she said with a faint squint.“Very…masculine. Water. No bubbles.”
“I’ve got surgery in the morning. Can’t have my hands shaking,” he replied with a crooked grin, catching her gaze.
A strange tension flickered between them. Not the usual kind—deeper, sharper. Suddenly the bar felt smaller, though half the tables were empty.
She looked away for just a second, tucking back a loose strand of hair.
“You’re in a good mood tonight,” he noted, not looking away.“Something happen?”
She tilted her head, met his eyes again. A faint, teasing smile touched her lips.
“And why do you care?” she said quietly.“We’re not friends, are we—so you can pick apart my life?”
Her voice sounded as if she didn’t entirely believe herself. Jasper felt something shift—this night had already slipped out of control.
He didn’t know how it would end, but at that point, he didn’t care.
He wanted to know what came next.
Nina took another sip, set the glass down, then suddenly stood. She hesitated, a single moment of doubt, then walked toward an empty table in the corner, away from curious stares.
Jasper watched every step she took, something tightening inside him.
She sat down, adjusted her hair, then cast him a short glance—as if calling him over without saying a word.
