Page 25 of Only Be Mine

I stood outside for a moment, fingers curled around the handle of the door.

If he wasn’t there, I could leave.

If he was, I’d… deal with it.

I pushed inside.

The warmth hit first. Then the sound, the smell.

And then my eyes found him like they already knew where to go.

John was at the bar this time, shoulder angled toward the taps, talking to the bartender like they’d known each other for years. Baby sat at his feet, tail thumping slowly on the worn wood floor, entirely unbothered by the chaos around her.

Of course he brought his dog to a bar.

Of course the bar tolerated it.

Of course Baby looked like she owned the place.

He turned like he felt me, and his whole face changed.

Not with surprise, but… relief.

Like he’d been pretending he didn’t care if I came, and now he couldn’t keep up the act.

I hated how much that did to me.

“Hey,” he said when I got close, voice warm enough to melt snow. “You’re here.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” I said, aiming for nonchalant.

His mouth quirked. “Were you…”

Baby stood and trotted to me immediately, sniffing my boots like she was checking my credentials. Then she leaned against my leg.

“She likes you,” John said, like it meant something.

“Everyone likes me,” I replied.

He laughed, not mocking and not amused at my arrogance. Just… delighted. Like he liked the way I was.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

I hesitated, eyes flicking to the bar, the crowd, the space between us that felt too narrow and too wide at the same time.

“I can buy my own drink.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I want to.”

“Fine,” I said, because I was already losing. “But nothing with tequila.”

His brows lifted. “Bad history?”

“Bad decisions.”

He nodded like he understood completely. “Okay. Come on.”

He led me toward a small booth tucked away from the center of the noise - still in the bar, still visible, but quieter. More intimate.