I tuck him into the corner on the far side of the room, opposite the stairs, and slip behind the bar, quietly pulling a bottle of bourbon from the shelves.
Uncapping it, I pour two glasses neat, trying to stay as quiet as possible so as not to give away our presence. Based on hiscoffee order, I’m going to guess that Zeke probably prefers his drinks a little sweet, so I pour a healthy serving of simple syrup into his cup before giving it a quick stir with my finger, and joining him on the floor.
“Since we aren’t drinking any of the champagne or eating any of the food upstairs, I doubt anyone will care if we have these,” I tell him, holding out the glass.
He gives me a small smile and takes the offering.
“Thanks.”
“Merry Christmas,” I tell him, lightly tapping the rim of my glass against his.
Hidden by the bar, we lean our backs against it, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows in front of us at the pitch-black sky.
Sitting next to him like this, just two guys—maybe friends—hiding from the world, I feel as relaxed as if I were with Eloise and Lukas. There’s no one to perform for, no one dissecting my every move, no one asking about future plans, investment opportunities, or what’s next.
There’s just Zeke.
And bourbon.
And the dark expanse beyond the glass.
Until an idea strikes.
And then all my thoughts center around making it happen.
Chapter 8
Zeke
After spending the last four years working to make ends meet and giving away parts of myself just to survive, sitting on this floor with Talon has me teetering on the edge of sanity. It makes me want more. It makes me wanthim.He wants nothing from me and asks nothing of me, but continuously shows up in ways I didn’t know mattered.
“You’re going to be alone for Christmas, right?” Talon asks quietly, jarring me out of my thoughts as I take a sip of the sweet bourbon. The music and laughter above us are a nice backdrop, but I’m glad I’m down here in the shadows. With him.
“Yeah, but it’s not so bad,” I answer.
How do I tell him I’d much rather be alone than suffer Derek’s company and his demands?
“Would you maybe want to grab lunch together? My family is all back home in New York. It’d be nice not to spend the day alone since I’m used to alotof fanfare around the holidays,” he says with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
My brain has trouble processing the request, so I spew the first question that comes to mind.
“Won’t everything be closed?”
“In a vacation destination like this? Nah, something will be open,” he says confidently.
My vision begins to swim, and I know it has nothing to do with the alcohol in my veins.
“Okay, sure,” I hear myself agree. This is about as terrible an idea as there ever was, but when Talon looks at me with a beaming smile, I don’t even care about the bloody lip or bruised ribs I’ll receive if Derek finds out. Which reminds me… “How are we going to explain where we’ve been tonight? When we show up at the gondola to leave, people will be curious,” I tell him.
He simply smiles, just like always.
“People will definitely notice. Youarekind of a celebrity around here,” he muses, not bothering to answer the question.
“I’m not. People just pity me, and I fucking hate it,” I admit, my lips loosening after another sip of the sweet liquor.
Suddenly, Talon leans forward, his big hand landing on my knee, distracting the ever-loving fuck out of me.
“Hey, I don’t pity you. Your reasons for making the decisions you have make sense toyou, and that’s what matters. I won’t pretend to understand it, and I won’t say that I don’t want to help, because Ido, but you have to want it, and something tells me you’re hellbent on doing it alone.”
