Page 18 of Cold as Stone
Lee nods once.
“And you?” Bones asks, glancing between us. “With a smokeshow like Kya—you two ever have anything?”
I flush, glancing away as I place the final drink on a tray. “No. Lee was too cool for a dweeb chick like me.”
“You weren’t a dweeb.” Lee’s sharp denial surprises me.
“Excuse me?” I gesture to myself. “Dude, I was grade A awkward.”
He makes a frustrated sound under his breath. “No, you weren’t.”
I cross my arms, eyebrows raised. “You do realize I wore knee-length cargo shorts and readLord of the Ringsfanfic on my phone during lunch, right?”
His jaw flexes. “And? Reading doesn’t make you awkward. Way I remember it, you were smart and funny. And gorgeous. You always have been.”
I freeze.
Oh.
Bones whistles low, dragging his drink toward him like he just scored ringside seats. “Well damn. You two selling tickets to this show, or am I just lucky to be here?”
I snort, trying to break the tension with humor even as my stomach tightens. “Lee’s joking,” I say, reaching for my dishrag. “He knows he’s wrong.”
“I’m not.”
There’s a beat of awkwardness before Bones stands. “Well, it’s been nice to meet you, Kya. Offer stands if you change your mind.” He claps Lee on the shoulder. “See you back at the table.”
Lee makes a noncommittal noise, his gaze locked on me as Bones lifts the tray of drinks with one hand and carries his own glass back to their table.
With Bones gone, tension creeps in. A moment hangs between Lee and I, and I can sense the subtle shift in dynamics. He breaks the silence.
“Sorry about that.”
“About what? Bones being polite, charming, and asking me to dinner?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You should be careful. He’s a player.”
I snort, amused. “And you’re not?”
His expression hardens slightly. “I’m looking out for you.”
“I don’t need looking out for, Lee. I’m not seventeen anymore.”
Something flickers across his face at that—memory, maybe, or acknowledgment. “No,” he says quietly. “You’re definitely not.”
Goosebumps rise along my skin, a honey heat uncurling in my belly at his admission.
I want to prod him, ask him why he said it the way he did, but he nods once and heads back to his table, leaving me with the distinct feeling that this conversation is far from over.
After they’re both back at their table, Mercy slides over, shaking her head with an amused smile. “Well, that was interesting.”
“Part of the job,” I say, trying to project calm I don’t entirely feel.
“Honey, I’ve been serving drinks for most of my adult life, and I know a pissing contest when I see it.” She glances toward the corner table where Lee is pointedly not looking in our direction. “That man’s got some serious feelings brewing.”
“It’s complicated,” I say finally.
“The best ones always are.” Mercy grins and heads back to her tables, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the awareness that Lee’s presence seems to fill the entire bar, even when he’s trying to ignore me.
