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I wait for Ghost to deliver my drink before speaking again.
Around us, the lounge is already settling back into its normal rhythm. The band hasn’t stopped playing. Someone laughs near the dartboards. A waitress squeezes between tables, carrying a tray of drinks.
As though a man hadn’t stormed in waving a gun moments ago.
“What just happened?”
Ash cuts another piece of steak. “Guy made a bad decision.”
“That’s your official assessment?”
“You asked.”
I stare into my drink. “He pulled a gun in a crowded bar.”
“Yeah.”
The casual agreement irritates me more than denial would have. “And nobody seems particularly concerned.”
The comment finally earns his attention. “You’ve been coming here long enough to figure out why.”
He’s right. A month ago, I would’ve assumed everyone was pretending not to be afraid.
Now I’m not so sure.
My eyes drift across the room. Nobody is watching the back hallway. Nobody is whispering. Nobody is checking the exits. They’re moving on with their evening while trusting Rowan and his people to handle it.
“So what happens to the guy?” I ask. “The one with the gun.”
“Depends. If he’d come in sober and ready to talk, probably nothing. But he pulled a gun and put people in danger. He’s of a mind for revenge. So…” Ash picks up his fork, spinning it between his fingers as he considers it. “Recoup the loss and make him disappear.”
The door to the back hallway opens, and Orien returns. Whatever happened back there, no evidence remains. There’s a new stain on his sleeve, patches of it already drying to a dull brown on the black fabric. He moves through the room as if nothing had happened, stopping to exchange a few words with Ghost before continuing toward the bar.
Toward me.
My pulse jumps, a physical reaction I can’t control and don’t bother trying to hide. Not anymore.
Orien stops beside my stool. “You stayed.”
“You told me to.”
Orien’s hand slides around my waist, and he leans in close. “Come to my place tonight, after closing.”
Not a question. Not quite a command. Just an offer, open and waiting for an answer I can’t give.
Because I can’t go to his place and keep pretending to be Lee when Lee is a role I’m playing, a lie built to get me access to information that doesn’t exist.
Desperation drives me to pull Orien down into a kiss, my eyes open and locked with his. I put everything I can’t say into the kiss, every desire, every regret, every moment of wanting to stay when I have to go.
Orien’s hand comes up to cup my jaw, fingers gentle as he kisses me back, and I memorize the warmth of his palm, the slight calluses on his fingertips, and the careful way he holds me like I’m worth being gentle with.
The gentleness breaks me in the end. Because this stopped feeling temporary somewhere between waking up in Orien’s arms and walking into the Blue Note beside him.
And that’s the real danger.
Not because I want him, but because a part of me wants to stay.
I pull back, my hand lingering on his collar for one last moment. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
