Page 79 of My Unfinished Heart

I join Liam on the patron’s side of the bar. He’s not shy, and he moves fast. I assume he’s buzzed, but he’s not drunk. When he mentions my father, I shake my head, and he apologizes with a hand on my thigh.

Before I met Tristan, this situation would have been a no brainer. He’s hot in that corporate way, and his glasses are slutty. He’d be just as good looking with contacts in, and I’m sure he knows that, which makes them excessive but not like he’s wearing too much jewelry. More like when a woman wears the perfect pair of earrings, enhancing her entire face.

When I do nothing about his hand on my leg, he leaves it there, shifting it slightly so his thumb is on my inner thigh.

The base level of arousal I’m feeling isn’t the same as the overwhelming want Tristan brought bursting through the surface. This is more of a need to get off, but I’m not sure I should go with it. He’s a stranger—more or less. He’d scratch an itch. He seems like a nice guy who may or may not be looking for more. That’s the part I’m not sure I want to be involved in.

I can’t do more. Not when I’m sitting here wishing he were someone else.

“You didn’t take my card,” he says.

“Did I not?”

He shakes his head. “Left it on my desk. I wanted to thank you. What you did that day changed my life.”

“I hope not for the worse.”

“Not at all. I wonder why a lot. I have a lot of questions.”

“I don’t know anything about running a software company.”

“Just because you own it doesn’t mean you have to run it. I promoted a few people, and I have more free time now than I’ve had since high school.”

I glance down at his hand on my leg. “Maybe too much free time?”

He grins. “Maybe. Can I give you my card?”

“Sure.”

With his free hand, he pulls his wallet from his back pocket. He has to let go of me to fish out the business card. He then leans forward and slides it into my shirt pocket. I dressed up for the court date, and so I’m wearing more or less the same thing he is. A dress shirt and slacks. He pats my pec before sliding his hand down my torso and letting it settle once again on my leg. “Now you have my number.”

His roving touch has me sporting a full erection, but there are too many conflicting images in my head. Tristan who was once between my legs. Liam who could potentially be on his knees. Tristan’s twenty-two artistically placed moles. Liam’s elegant hands.

It has to be with you.

“You should call me.”

“I’ll think about it,” I tell him.

He pointedly looks at the tent in my pants. “I hope you will.”

I notice he’s got a nice bulge going, too, and it makes me think hard about what I say next. My body needs something, but my heart is fucking empty. Not that a full heart has ever been required for me to let my body do what needs doing, and what better excuse do I have after a day where my life was thrown into flux once again?

I’m not sure I want this path, whether it’s the right one to take or not, but I can see the possibilities. There was another path, though, one I knew I wanted. I’ll wait for you.

It was a stupid fucking promise, and tonight it feels like a curse. “I’ll think about it,” I tell Liam, putting my hand on his as I stand. I give it a light squeeze before letting it go. “It was nice to see you again.”

“You, too, Archer.” He stands as well, rising to my height. He looks me in the eyes and smiles. He’s got a very nice smile, but it’s not the one I promised myself to, even if that promise doesn’t mean shit anymore. “You’ve got my number. And I know where to find you.”

I nod. “See you later, then.”

“See you later.”

I leave the bar not too long after that. Liam is still drinking with his friends. Kat and the other bartender are steadily working and don’t need me getting in the way.

When I get home and see Connor’s car, I hesitate before turning mine off.

Taking my phone from the console, I send a text.