Instead, I watched the way Jace’s mouth curved when he wasn’t guarding it. The flush high on his cheeks. The loose bend of his neck when he tipped his head back to laugh. The fact that he had unbuttoned the top of his shirt and rolled his sleeves unevenly, one cuff neat, one a disaster.
My phone rang.
Olivia.
For one disorienting second, the sound seemed louder than the entire bar.
I stepped outside to take it.
The cold hit my face as the door shut behind me, muting the music to a bass thud through brick. A few smokers stood near the curb. I walked past them toward the quieter side of the building.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi.” Olivia sounded tired. Not upset. Just worn thin. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No. We’re at a team thing, but it’s fine. You okay?”
“Yeah. Long day. My client moved the morning session up, then acted like I personally invented time zones.” She gave a small laugh. “I saw the score. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Jace had the winner, right?”
My eyes closed briefly. “Yeah.”
“He’s something else.”
“He is.”
The silence after that was not long, but I felt every inch of it.
Olivia exhaled. “I don’t think I’m going to make it back this weekend.”
I stared at the streetlight reflecting in a puddle near the curb. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry. The Chicago project is a mess, and if I stay through Sunday I can keep it from becoming a whole thing next week.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I know. I just...” She paused. “I don’t want you to think I don’t want to come home.”
Home.
Tiny’s food bowls by the kitchen island. Olivia’s winter coat still in the front closet. The side of the bed she barely slept on anymore.
“I don’t think that,” I said.
I was not sure if it was true.
“I miss him,” she said softly.
“Tiny?”
“He’s easier to miss than you. He doesn’t make me feel guilty.”
The honesty landed without drama. That made it worse.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
