“I’m good.” He shakes his head, his eyes not leaving mine.
“Come on,” I press, leaning forward on my elbows. “Have I mentioned I moved back and my life is falling apart? A little solidarity here wouldn’t kill you.”
He grabs a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. Instead of setting them down, he holds one glass in his left hand. With his right, he executes a quick, fluid spin of the bottle, pouring a stream of gold into the glass without spilling a drop. Before the stream even stops, he tosses that glass into the air, catches it smoothly in his pouring hand, and pours a perfect shot into the second glass he’d palmed. It’s a flawless, practiced move. It happens in a second.
My breath catches. “Damn. When did you have time to learn magic tricks?”
He sets the two filled glasses on the bar in front of me without a word.
We clink the glasses. Our eyes meet. “To The Pitfall,” I say.
Jax knocks his back, then points toward the door.
“What?” I ask.
He grabs my hand and pulls me outside. The night air hits my face as I realize I came in through the back alley. The front of the building faces the street, and the sign above is dark. Jax reaches up and flips a switch beside the frame. Light flickers, then the sign glows to life. THE DRIP
I stare at it. “You didn’t,” I say.
“Grew on me.”
I laugh under my breath. We just stand there, looking up at it. The glow from the sign paints his face in red and I lean a little closer without thinking.
Jax shifts back half a step. Subtle, but enough, a rejection that stings more than it should.
I quickly swallow the rest of my drink when we step back inside.
“Another one,” I say, already moving behind the bar again.
“Please?” he teases.
“Please, daddy. I’m thirsty.”
“You’re going to bankrupt me before opening night.”
I start messing with the music controls on the counter, my fingers fumbling. “When’s Matt coming back?” I ask. “Did you guys hire anyone else yet?”
“He left right before you got here,” Jax says. “Couple other guys helping tomorrow.”
I nod, fiddling with the speakers. Without really thinking about it, I ask: “Is Matt still single?”
Jax’s head tilts slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”
I shrug. “No reason.”
He watches me longer than necessary, his gaze heavy. “Yeah,” he says finally. “He is.”
I glance over my shoulder, my heart hammering. “Are you?”
The question slips out before I can stop it.
Jax doesn’t answer right away. He just leans back against the bar and studies me like he’s deciding something.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, my voice a little too high. “We’re friends, right? I’m just curious.”
Jax exhales slowly. “Yeah,” he says finally, the word a low rumble. “Friends.”
He pours another drink. And another after that. Somewhere between the third and the fourth, the music gets louder. I don’t even remember when I turned it on.
