Page 117 of Drowning in Darkness

“Nothing you’re offering,” he says, shooting her down.

She drops her hand. “If you change your mind, or if you need anything, I’ll just be over here.”

Get a clue, lady. It’s embarrassing now.

She drifts off, failing to take my empty glass. It’s unlikely I’ll even get my beer, but the music is about to start, and I have a basket of wings to devour. They’re divided into three compartments, the coloring clear which is which. I reach for the lighter one first.

Heat washes over my tongue, and I groan. These are good wings. James watches me before picking up his own chilli number three wing. He blinks, and a flush colors his cheeks just as I reach for the next level. His eyes bulge at my choice.

“You can’t be serious?” he says with a cough. “They’re ripping the lining from my mouth.”

“Baby,” I mutter as I grab a number five and delight in the full-body rush it gives. Now those are wings to die for. I swap my less spicy ones for his number fives with an eye roll.

The beer appears, delivered by the older guy. He quirks a brow at the fact I’ve demolished most of my hottest wings. “You enjoy those, darlin’?”

The twang on his “darlin’” is everything. “Yes. Turns out I’m a five kinda girl.”

“Respect.” He taps his temple. “What happened here?”

I raise my fingers to touch the bullet graze. I’ve pretty much forgotten it exists. “Clumsy accident with a kitchen cupboard.”

He tilts his head. “Funny.”

“What is?”

“Looks like you dodged a bullet.”

My eyes fly to James, and he smirks. Right. I wanted to be out in the world, so it’s my responsibility to adult my way through the questions.

“Long story,” I say slowly. “Private.”

The guy swings his gaze to James. “Let me know if you need anything else.” He turns away with a quick look over his shoulder.

The band plays some familiar pop songs that energize the crowd as they swell inside the bar. The wings are gone in no time, and not once does James take his eyes off me. It’s exhilarating and suffocating at the same time.

Our eyes tell a story that no one could guess. There’s no reality where a man looks at a woman like he’s looking at me and doesn’t want her. It tells me that no matter where and when, no matter how far I fall, he will catch me.

He opens his mouth, but he’s cut off when the music stops.

“Time for a little karaoke break,” the lead singer declares. “Looking for duets tonight.”

A wide grin stretches across my face.

“No,” James mutters. “Absolutely not.”

Best. Night. Ever.

THIRTY-NINE

JAMES

She doesn’t need saving, she doesn’t need defending, and she definitely doesn’t need the brand of attention I have.

Stephanie could lead a holy man to sin. That’s my conclusion given her ability to not only have me out at a bar when we’re trying to lie low, but singing a duet from Grease while showing off purple sparkly nail polish. That’s right, sparkly. It wasn’t enough to color them; she needed to make sure they shone.

But the genuine smile on her face? The one that says she’s forgotten about all the bad shit that has happened to her? Worth it. I would give my left kidney to keep gifting her that. I’m obsessed.

We finish the song and hurry off stage, where we’ve drawn a little crowd who are basking in my torture.