Page 257 of Banter & Blushes

Panic sets in. I clutch the empty glasses to my chest like a makeshift shield, contemplating the merits of diving behind the nearest potted plant. Before I can act on that impulse, he’s standing before me.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice warm and genuine.

I manage a squeaky “Hi,” my throat suddenly dry.

He pulls out a barstool and settles in, his eyes never leaving mine.

“How was your day off?” he asks, leaning forward slightly.

I blink, trying to process the question. “Oh, it was… eventful.”

He chuckles. “Yeah? Do anything fun?”

“Well, I took Winston for a walk on the beach.”

His smile softens. “Sounds nice.”

“It was,” I agree, twisting the hem of my shirt. “Keigan, I?—”

“Becky, there’s something I should tell you,” he says simultaneously.

We both pause, then laugh awkwardly.

“You first,” I offer.

He runs a hand through his hair, in a nervous gesture that makes him seem more approachable. “I owe you an apology. I haven’t been entirely upfront with you.”

I tilt my head, feigning ignorance. “Oh?”

He sighs. “The truth is, I am an actor. I came here to get away from the craziness for a while. I didn’t mean to deceive you, I just wanted to be treated like a regular guy.”

I nod slowly. “I understand. It must be exhausting, always being in the spotlight.”

“It can be,” he admits. “But meeting you has been a breath of fresh air. You didn’t know who I was, and you treated me like… well, like Keigan. Not some celebrity.”

I offer a small smile. “I called you an ‘almost movie star.’ Sorry about that.”

He laughs, the sound genuine and hearty. “Don’t be. It was refreshing.”

Silence settles between us. I fidget with my shirt again.

“I like spending time with you,” he begins, his tone earnest, “you’re real, and that’s rare in my world.”

I swallow hard, my heart accelerating.

Keigan reaches across the counter, his fingers grazing mine. It’s a small gesture, one that probably looks casual to anyone else, but it feels like a firework going off in the middle of an otherwise normal Tuesday.

“You’re unapologetically you. And that’s exactly what I’m looking for,” he says, his voice low but steady.

The words hang in the air between us, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. My heart is doing its best impression of a bongo drum, and I’m suddenly very aware of how warm the bar feels.

Is it just me, or did someone crank up the thermostat?

I glance down at his hand, still resting near mine, and then back up at his face. His expression is open, earnest, like he’s just handed me something fragile and is waiting to see what I’ll do with it.

And me? Well, I’m clutching that fragile thing like a toddler holding a glass vase during an earthquake.

My brain starts firing off a million thoughts at once. He likes me?

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