I hesitated for a beat, running a hand down my face. “What do you knowabout anxiety?”
He blinked, caught off guard. “I have some knowledge, but it’s not my area of expertise. I can get in touch with one of my psychiatrists if you need it.”
“Please do,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. I softened it with a sigh. “Ask them if they can recommend any resources or books about dealing with anxiety and self-image.”
Ronan studied me for a moment, before sipping whatever was in his glass. “You really like her, huh?”
“I do,” I admitted without hesitation. “But I don’t know much about mental health, Ro. I don’t know how to help her, how to…be therethe way she needs me to be. I’ve tried the blogs, but they don’t give me enough information.”
Ronan’s smirk faded, replaced by something softer, more genuine. “I’ll make sure you get what you need,” he promised. “She’s lucky to have you, you know.”
“You know I don’t believe in luck,” I said, shaking my head. “But, I’m the lucky one.”
Ronan gave me a knowing look and nodded. “I’ll reach out to them tonight.”
“Thank you.” I nodded, then turned my focus to Abigail, unable to think of anything else. I watched her pace, agitated but laughing. Her glass was nearly empty—third one already—as she sipped, her gaze darting around like she was fleeing something.
Before I could make my way over to her, Arnoldo slid up beside me with a drink, likely gin, in hand. “I see you’ve got your eyes on your redhead.”
“She’s far too beautiful for me to look away, Reyes.”
“I just got saved from the worst night of my life.”
I raised an eyebrow.“¿Por qué?”57
He smirked. “Maybe age is catching up to me, but when Dillon called while I was with two blondes, I was relieved for the excuse to leave.”
My brow furrowed. “Youturned down sleeping withsomeone?”
He nodded, his tone serious now. “Yeah.”
I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around it. “You?Turned down two blondes?”
Arnoldo chuckled softly, the edge of disbelief still evident in my voice. “Yeah, man.”
I raised an eyebrow, the surprise still lingering in my voice. “Rough day, Reyes?”
He took another sip of his drink, his expression turning a bit more serious. “You have no idea. Is your sister here?”
I looked at him, confused. “No. Why?”
He sighed, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze. “Just curious. Thought I saw someone else here who might have been her.”
My brow furrowed slightly, but before I could respond, my attention was already pulled back to Abigail.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, turning away, trying to push aside the odd feeling creeping up on me.
She was standing by a booth, looking slightly distracted. I stepped closer, my voice low and concerned. “You okay,amor?”
“Mikkel.” She glanced up, her face brightening with a smile. “I’m okay, just looking at the different displays.”
I stepped closer, my eyes narrowing slightly as I noticed how measured and unsteady her voice sounded. “Are you nervous?”
She hesitated, then answered with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Why would I be?”
I raised an eyebrow, glancing at her empty glass. “Because that’s your fourth glass of champagne in twenty-eight minutes.”
Her gaze flickered to me, surprise flashing across her face. “You’ve been watching me?”