Page 7 of Grotesque
I looked down shamefully at my nearly empty glass. “Um, yeah.”
“Something stronger?”
I smiled. “No, the same is fine. I have to drive back.” My shot nerves protested, but I remembered seeing wine in the pantry. I could break into that once I got home. I just needed to be away from the manor for a little bit.
Someone bumped roughly against my shoulder. I turned to see a man’s back as he stumbled past me, grabbing the edge of the bar to steady himself. A sharp remark starting withhow about you watch where you’re goingand ending withassholewas on the tip of my tongue when he suddenly glanced my way.
A cocky smile turned his lips up as he made a quick head to toe assessment of me, his gaze lingering on my thighs.
“That’s a cool tattoo,” he said. His dark brown eyes had an odd flatness to them, like he was looking through you, or into you. When that smile deepened, there were soft crinkles in the skin around his eyes and lips.
“Thanks,” I said, turning my attention back to the bartender. “I’ll go ahead and close out.”
“What’s it for?”
It was the cringiest most annoying question in the book about tattoos. “For me. I got it because I liked it.”
“Well yeah, but does it mean anything?” the guy asked.
“It means I like moths, so I got one tattooed on me.”
The man frowned. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but shut it when someone clapped a hand on his back.
“Jeremy, Katelyn is asking where you’re at. Maybe stop hitting on other women and go check on your wife.” He was tall with broad shoulders and a waist to match. His smile seemed pleasant enough, but the look in his eyes as they bore into Jeremy’s stated in no uncertain terms that he meant business.
Jeremy looked between us before grumbling and rising. “Ass,” he hissed.
The man slipped onto the stool beside me. “Sorry about that.”
“I feel sorry for Katelyn.”
He snorted. “Me too, that’s my sister.”
“Yikes.” I watched him and the bartender, Jason, exchange a few words. My new bar companion worked in IT a few towns over, it seemed. Jason was asking him how the new contract was going before he turned back to me.
“Very yikes,” he said. “I’m Quint, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
Quint was handsome, no doubt about it. He had a tan that said he worked out in the sun when he wasn’t sitting behind a desk. His jawline was bare, but shaded with the barest hint of stubble.
“Sorcha. And I just moved here.”
“Oh! Well, welcome. I love Bristol, but kind of an odd place to move. Where are you from?”
I took a sip of my drink. “I’m from Miami.” I laughed when his eyes widened. “Yeah, big change.”
“No kidding.” His brown eyes sparkled. “Why the jump?”
“It’s a long story.” No way was I about to tell some stranger about the small fortune I had landed on.
Quint held up a hand. “No pressure.”
“I just needed a change of scenery,” I settled on.
“I get that. I’ve thought about moving myself but it’s hard to get away when your roots are so far in the ground.”
I nodded like I understood. I didn’t really. I was thankful for the space I had now put between me and the toxicity that was my family. It was a shame you couldn’t pick them the way you chose friends. That you were just stuck with them for life, good or bad.
I had a small group of friends back home that I missed already, but I could make new friends. My gaze slid back to Quint who was recommending the best spots in town for food. At the mention of a burger my stomach growled. Now that he mentioned it, I was absolutely starving. In my haste to get out of Glamis this morning I’d skipped breakfast, and it was now well after lunch.
