“Seven,” I think I hear him say under his breath.
“What?”
He furrows his brow and shakes his head. “Nothing.” He straightens up and grabs a dishrag from below the counter, making a point to wipe the area in front of me as I perch on the stool before him. “How are you, Sunshine?”
“Don’t—”
“Don’t call you Sunshine,” he finishes for me with a wry smile.
I donotneed to encourage this man any more than I already have.
He raises his hands, the rag still hanging from one. “Right, sorry.”
I nod.
“What can I getcha?”
“Um, just water for now. I’m meeting my friends, but they texted they’re running late. Lucy went to pick Piper up, but then had a bout of morning sickness and is apparently holed up intheir bathroom at present,” I say, then immediately regret it. Why do I keep volunteering information to this man? Why do I keep opening the door to more conversation?
He grabs a glass from under the bar, grunting.
“Heard she was pregnant. She’s seeing Aidan’s partner, right?”
“Mm-hm. Noah. He’s—” but I cut myself off. I do not need to go into details about my friends and their personal lives.
Riley pauses for a moment, the glass outheld, waiting to see if I’ll say more. When it’s clear I’m not going to, he asks, “Ice?”
“Yes, please.” I watch him scoop a generous amount of crushed ice and then fill the glass from the bar gun. He flicks a cardboard coaster with the Aroma’s logo in front of me and places the drink down with a flourish.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“So … girls’ night, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“What, uh … what happened to Katie?” he asks, then cringes as though realizing he shouldn’t have brought it up.
“We grew apart.” I shrug. Getting pregnant and dropping out of school to raise a child when all your friends want to do is drink and party will do that, but I refrain from elaborating.
“Sorry.”
I give another half-shouldered shrug. “It happens. She left town after college. We exchange the occasional email, but we have very different lives now.”
“I get that.”
“I’m sure you do,” I say, not without a hint of bitterness in my tone.
He sighs. “Steph—”
I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s alright. I—”
But I cut him off once more. “Seriously, let’s not.”
He nods, his expression solemn. A motion down the other end of the bar catches his eye, and Riley excuses himself to go serve another patron. The bar is quiet tonight, not unsurprisingly for a weeknight in late fall. There are a handful of people in the booths by the front windows—mostly couples enjoying a late dinner. Several other groups congregate around small high-top tables near the rear, and then there’s me, and the older gentleman at the end. Riley finishes up with him, pulling a perfect pint and sliding it across without spilling a drop. He glances up to find me watching, and my face heats.Again.He smirks and makes his way back to where I’m seated, cocking a hip against the counter and crossing his arms.
He watches as I sip my water.
