Page 130 of Your Place or Mine

“I think you’re scared,” he said honestly. “And I think she is too. But you both keep showing up.”

I nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

Because maybe that was enough.

For now.

A couple of regulars walked into the bar, and Drew went to take their orders.

I didn’t mind a slow day.

Gave me time to think. Not that I liked doing that either, but it was better than dodging the pang in my chest every time I pictured Lydia’s face when I left her apartment.

I hadn’t meant to bolt like that. But morning sunlight made things feel too… real. And when things got real, I had a habit of making a mess out of them.

But then she showed up here, and everything felt…right.

I was halfway through restocking the cooler when the front door swung open hard enough to rattle the glass in its frame.

I looked up, expecting maybe Riley who forgot her keys again or Larry from the auto shop needed to borrow a wrench.

What I got was Melanie.

In all her fashionable, narrowed-eyes, hands-on-hips glory.

Well. Shit.

“Afternoon,” I said cautiously.

She didn’t answer.

She marched straight toward the bar, dark sunglasses perched on top of her head like a crown of judgment. She looked around once, eyes scanning for someone who clearly wasn’t here, and then turned her fire on me.

“Where is she?”

I blinked. “Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. Lydia.”

I stood up from behind the bar and set the crate of soda bottles aside. “I’m guessing not at her apartment?”

“Nope,” she said crisply, taking a seat and folding her arms. “She hasn’t answered my texts this morning. Not like her. In fact, she hasn’t answered my texts since yesterday.”

“She’s probably just busy,” I said, keeping my tone even. “She’s been helping Riley at the coffee shop.”

Melanie tilted her head and gave me a look that could cut glass. “Yeah, she mentioned that. But something’s off. She's been quiet lately. Less... Lydia-ish. And she’s not the type to ghost people unless something’s seriously bugging her.”

I shrugged, trying not to look as guilty as I felt. “Maybe she’s just settling in.”

Melanie’s brows shot up so fast they nearly flew off her forehead. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That dismissive guy grunt thing. I am not one of your barstool regulars, Callum.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

She leaned in across the bar like she was about to launch a full-blown interrogation. “Did you do something?”

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