Page 173 of Almost Ours
Nina, sitting next to him, rolled her eyes. I caught Harper’s gaze again, and I swear my chest tightened. She was looking at me now, her fingers absently playing with her glass, something in her expression I couldn’t quite place.
I wanted to say something to her. Ask her how she was doing. Maybe apologize again. But I couldn’t find the right words. It felt like no matter what I said, I’d only make things worse.
Instead, I gave her a small nod and slid into the seat next to Shane, forcing my attention to the others at the table. All I could think about was her, though. The way her eyes lingered on me. The way she smiled, like she was trying so damn hard to hold it together.
This was going to be harder than I thought.
The air in the pub buzzed with noise–clinking glasses, low music, bursts of laughter from other tables–but all of it faded into the background.
I was too aware of her.
Too aware of the way her fingers traced absent patterns on her glass, the way her eyes flickered toward me when she thought I wasn’t looking.
She had been quiet tonight. Not in a bad way, just in a way that told me she was comfortable letting the conversation move around her. She didn’t need to force herself to fill the space.
And God, I missed that.
I missed sitting next to her, hearing her thoughts, feeling her lean into me when she was tired.
Tonight, though, I was just another person at the table. And that was my own damn fault.
I forced myself to focus as the booth buzzed with conversation and laughter, most of it fueled by Shane and Nina’s never-ending banter.
“Admit it, Shane,” Nina said, leaning forward with a smirk. “You’re terrified of karaoke because you can’t hold a tune to save your life.”
Shane scoffed, leaning back and throwing an arm over the booth. “Wrong. I’m not scared of karaoke–I’m sparing all ofyoufrom the embarrassment of realizing how terrible you are compared to me.”
“Right,” Nina drawled, rolling her eyes. “Your last performance of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is still haunting my nightmares.”
“That was artistic interpretation,” Shane shot back. “The crowd loved it.”
“They were drunk!”
Kyle chuckled, his gaze darting between them. “Sounds like I missed an unforgettable performance.”
“Unforgettable is one way to put it,” Nina quipped, shaking her head.
Across from me, Harper laughed softly, her lips curling in amusement.
And just like that, I was gone.
Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and for a second, I got lost in the sight of her. That sound–it did something to me.
“Hey Harp,” Shane said grinning. “What's your go-to karaoke song? Don't tell me you’re one of those people who sits in the corner all night.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips twitching. “I plead the fifth.”
“Cop-out!” Shane declared. “You’re singing tonight, no excuses.”
“Don’t bully her,” Nina said, giving Shane a mock glare. “You’ve got enough people to humiliate yourself in front of. Leave her out of it.”
Harper laughed again, shaking her head. “I think I need another drink if I’m going to survive this conversation.” She stood, smoothing the fabric of her wrap dress, and I had to drag my eyes away. “Be right back.”
As she walked away, my eyes followed her instinctively. Her dress hugged her in all the right places, the soft material swaying with each step. She reached the bar, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she signaled the bartender.
Some guy walked right up to her.
Tall. Messy blond hair. A boyish grin that set my teeth on edge. He had that easy confidence–like a guy who strolled through life without ever having to try too hard. He looked like he belonged in some charming rom-com, the kind of guy who could make a woman swoon with nothing more than a well-timed smile.
