Page 79 of Because of Her

“Rosé, right?” he adds, gesturing to the empty bottle. “Although my RSA tells me you probably don’t need it.”

I laugh, although it’s more like a choking giggle. He’s right. I’ve downed the whole bottle on a mostly empty stomach, I probablydon’tneed another glass. Let alone another bottle. But I want to drown my sorrows.

Shaking my head, I take in the man in front of me. His short sandy hair reflects a hint of ginger in the sunlight. I wonder if he is one of those men that carry a ginger beard, but his face is so clean shaven and smooth, I also wonder if he’d even be able to grow one. There is nothing remarkable about him.

He isn’t buff, isn’t skinny, isn’t large, or small. He’s just average. His azure eyes match the cloudless sky, without being overpowering. His nose is a fraction too big for his face, but his too small ears somehow compensate to balance everything out.

My Rosé coloured glasses are making him much more appealing than he should be.

“I’m Cassidy.” I lean across the bar and smile, ever so slightly, and look up at him through my lashes. Batting them a few times for good measure.

Lord, I’m cringing at myself. It’s been so long since I’ve flirted with a guy, I have no idea what I’m doing.

“No, you’re drunk,” he replies with a smirk. His gaze lingers on my breasts for just long enough. I feel a weird bead of satisfaction in my core.

Cheers erupt behind me and I twist to see the young couple standing, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Yes,” the girl is squealing. “Yes, of course, yes!”

I turn away from the brutal reminder of my aching heart, the stark display of the love I want but will, apparently, never have.

“Good for them,” the bartender’s deep voice catches my attention.

“Lucky for some.” I wave my hand around, losing my balance and toppling off the stool.

A laughing cough sounds behind me, as someone catches me before I fall. Steadying myself in his firm grasp, I peek through squinted eyes at Noah. He stands with his hands on his hips and a deep crease between his brows.

“How much did you let her drink?”

Although I want to say it was none of Noah’s business, instead I find myself clinging to my cousin’s shoulder.

“He wouldn’t let me have any, this is all you, cousin.” The words slur a little.

“Come on.” Noah guides me away from the bar. “I’ll drive you home.”

With the window down, and having polished off a bottle of water and a toasted cheese sandwich, the Rosé buzz starts to wear down about halfway home.

Staring out the window, I groan inwardly.

I still feel like I need something to take my attention off Callum and Maisie, but finding that distraction by getting day drunk at the winery my cousin manages, and that I provide floristry for, wasn’t the best idea.

“You want to talk about it?”

I groan again, outwardly this time, leaning back on the chair.

“Not really,” I whine. “I’m a mess, my life is a mess.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. I’m depressed over something I learnt aboutyearsago. I’m in love with a man who has a child, but I forced him away because I was convinced I didn’t want to be a parent. And I made an absolute fool of myself with someone who istechnically a colleague. Kind of.” I sink as low into the chair as my seatbelt allows.

Risking a brief glance at me, Noah shakes his head.

“Cass,” he says, “I’ve lost track of how much crap you’ve been through. You’re allowed to get a little day drunk—my fault by the way because I should have known you wouldn’t have had breakfast, and I gave you a whole damn bottle of wine at 10.30 a.m.—and you’re allowed to have a little self-pity flirt with the fill-in bartender.” He laughs.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment and I hide my face in my hands.

“He won’t be back,” Noah states, shaking his head. “We had three people call in sick so he came to help from another bar.”

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