Page 68 of It Happened in Vegas

WINDOW TO DOOR

KEATON

I headedto the Hops to receive our weekly delivery and stock the bar, needing something to do with my hands. Something to focus on besides Sophie’s voice in my head and the worries that I’d messed things up between us.

Jessa was already there, organizing bottles with a precision that rivaled the military. She’d tied her blonde hair in a bandana, wore her overalls, and looked like she meant business.

After a few minutes of cataloguing the order in our system, she asked, “Are you counting bottles or just brooding again?”

I paused mid-shelf, chest tightening, and forced a chuckle. “What gave me away?”

“The sighing. The pinched face. You’re standing like a statue and I’m worried blood flow isn’t getting into your legs or your brain. Usually you’d bark orders to wrap this up—especially with the next delivery showing up soon.”

I ran my palm down my face. “Yeah. Sorry. Got a lot on my mind,” I mumbled.

She snorted. “About Sophie? Who else consumes every stray thought of yours?”

My head jerked up, heat flared in the pit of my stomach. “You can tell?”

Jessa leaned forward, folding her arms on the polished countertop. “Keaton, I might be slinging drinks most nights, but I see everything. I can read lips—another handy talent—so believe me when I say I’ve watched you two very closely. I’ve seen how she looks at you, and how you look at her.”

I shook my head. “What do you actually think you know?”

Her expression softened, with concern in her eyes. “I think I know what’s really going on between you two, but since you’re not telling anyone the truth…” She motioned to her lips as if zipping them shut.

“Dammit. I knew the walls were thin here.”

“And I’m fairly certain of your problem. It’s time you admit it.”

“Admit what, exactly?” I rested my elbows on the bar, shoulders slumped, and pressed my fingertips into my temples. My chest tightened and this conversation with Jessa turned in circles.

She jabbed me in the ribs. “That you love her, dummy. And she’s in love with you, too.”

Love? The word struck me hard, as if a baseball bounced off my skull. Would that explain this heat in my stomach when around her? The bone-deep ache when she wasn’t in the room? The way breathing became easier when she laughed?

Fuck me. “I have it bad,” I croaked.

“Yeah, you do. So tell her.” Jessa grinned like she had won a monumental battle in a court of law.

“You’re right. I have to go before she slips away.” I stepped around the bar, halfway out the door in long strides, but stopped and yelled, “Whatever you think you know about us, please keep it to yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be here keeping your secrets. Not going anywhere, and it’s not like I have a man to run off to,” she shouted.

I couldn’t get my truck home fast enough, with my heart hammering so hard it reverberated throughout my entire body.

When I entered the house, I found Sophie leaning against the sink, peering out the rain-smeared window, her hands curled around the Boss Lady mug I’d bought her. Steam curled in lazy spirals above the dark liquid, but she stared beyond it—at the rolling clouds, or something deeper.

Her hair was piled in a careless knot atop her head, and she wore sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. Those were her telltale “off-duty” clothes, signifying she had no intention of coming to work with me at Hops this morning.

I had missed seeing her there in my office lately.

“Hey,” I said. A sudden gust rattled the window frame, and my heart thumped in my chest. I felt like a man caught without an umbrella, rain and hail smashing down, soaking me from the inside out.

“Hi,” she clipped, pouring her coffee down the drain and setting her cup in the sink.

We still hadn’t talked about things. Entirely my fault, because I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I didn’t want to end things between us. I liked us. But what if she didn’t and walked away, left me to chase her own dreams elsewhere?

The thought tightened a grip around my ribs.

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