Page 112 of Cold As Ice

“Because I’m broken.” I drained the remnants and flagged down the server to order another.

“How many of those did you drink before I got here?”

“Not nearly enough.”

“I know things have been strained between us.” Rory laid her hand on my arm, and my eyes flicked up to meet her concerned expression. “But you can talk to me about this, Austin. I won’t run off and tell Noah or Connor or the girls. You can trust me.”

A harsh laugh rumbled in my chest, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

“What?”

“I’m a fuckup.”

“Did something happen? With your friend?”

“What do you think?”

“Austin—”

“I fucked it up, Sis. Because I am fucked up. I don’t know how to let people in. I don’t know how to get close. When shit gets real, I run. It’s what I do.”

“It’s worth the risk, you know,” she said. But I didn’t have a fucking clue what she was saying because my head felt a little fuzzy.

“What is?” I drawled, downing the rest of my glass.

Another.

Another would fix everything.

Maybe get Madison out of my head because nothing had worked yet. I’d tried. Fucking tried my hardest to forget her.

But nothing worked.

Whisky, though, whisky felt like a sure thing.

“Love, Austin.”

“Love?” I barked out. “What the fuck do I know about love?”

“Exactly,” she said softly. “Maybe it’s time you open your heart to the idea.”

CHAPTER20

MADISON

“Thanks for helpingme out this afternoon. I really appreciate it,” Kayleigh said as we wiped down a couple of tables.

“Anytime. I think she’s enjoyed it far more than me.” I glanced over to where Imogen was busy stroking a gorgeous Tabby cat.

Kayleigh’s weekend girl had been sent home sick, and since it was the shop’s monthly Cat ‘n’ Chat session, Kayleigh needed an extra pair of hands. We just so happened to be stopping by when Florence left, so I offered to stick around for a bit.

Mrs. Owens, the organizer, had been more than willing to have an extra pair of hands, and Imogen had spent the last hour wooing the attendees and Mrs. Owens’ rather impressive collection of cats.

“They all love her,” Kayleigh remarked.

“Yeah.” A burst of pride went through me as I watched her chatter away to her new friends.

Imogen was like a ray of sunshine, and it had been humbling to watch her interact with the small group of dementia patients attending the session.

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