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It had been a week since that night Cameron and I almost kissed until my pager ruined the moment. She’d put a bit of distance between us since, which was frustrating as fuck. However, she got her stitches out yesterday and was walking without crutches, which was a win. Earlier, I helped take her stuff back to her place. Quinn had replaced her front door with a sturdier, fully solid wooden one.

Tonight would be her first night at home, and she’d wanted to have a drink at the Lantern with our friends to ease back into her usual routine.

I’d miss her in my house.

I wouldn’t miss the growing torture of having her near and yet so far.

Now, watching fucking Torin Montrose flirt with her was pushing me to a breaking point.

The past few weeks, months even, had been nothing but growing frustration. Frustration at the way people treated Cameron after she turned Greig Wallace in. Frustration at the police for not taking the letters I was receiving more seriously. Frustrated again that they hadn’t found whoever broke into Cameron’s house. Frustration with Cameron for not knowing what she wanted, even though I knew it wasn’t fair to her to feel that way.

And, of course, sexual frustration because I only wanted one woman. Which meant I hadn’t had sex in over a year.

A year!

I remembered being astonished at Murray when he’d told me he’d gone without sex for over a year.

Now here I was.

And yet I saw no way out of my current predicament unless Cameron decided to give us a chance. My dick had firmly attached itself to this woman and seemed completely uninterested in anything but her.

So watching her laugh at whatever Torin Montrose said (and I knew the guy—the grumpy bastard was not a funny man) was pushing all my buttons.

When Torin flicked me a look and then bent closer to Cameron, I started to think he was winding me up deliberately. Murray caught my eye and there must have been something in my expression because he gave me a subtle warning shake of his head. I blew out a breath and abruptly pushed away from the table.

Cameron startled, her head jerking toward me.

Ah, so she remembered I existed.

I scowled. “Want a drink?” Everyone still had full or half-empty glasses in front of them, including Cameron.

She shifted uncomfortably. “My usual.”

I nodded stonily. “Anyone else?”

A chorus of nos followed me to the bar because I was already on the move, needing to get away from that fucking table. The bar was crowded, but I found a spot near the middle and gently pushed into the gap.

Aodhan’s most recent hire, Kenan the janitor, was behind the bar with longtime bartender Sue. He seemed to be fixing one of the bar taps. Sue gave me a nod of acknowledgment as she poured from one of the other taps. “Forde, I’ll be with you in a second.”

Kenan’s head snapped up, his gaze searching the customers until it stopped on me. “Awright, Forde?”

Anytime I saw the young janitor, he stopped to say hello, his expression weirdly … hero-worshipping? The only other time men treated me like that was because they knew of my reputation of hooking up with women whenever I wanted. I assumed word had reached Kenan about that, which fucked me off considering no one had seen me leave this bar or anywhere with another woman in over a year.

A fucking year!

Kenan seemed a bit socially awkward, so I’d get why maybe he looked up to me. Last year I might have found it amusing and flattering, but my reputation had fucked things up with me and Cameron and I felt nothing but pure self-directed resentment.

“Fine. You?” I finally replied, breaking eye contact with him as I turned to look back at our table. Instead, my eyes snagged with Caoimhe’s. She was at a table closer to the stage and restaurant entrance with Paisley MacDuff, Aodhan’s granddaughter. I nodded to acknowledge her but quickly looked away.

Sue came over to take my order. As she moved across the bar to grab a bottle of gin, Kenan popped up from where he’d been crouched working.

“All sorted.”

“Aw grand, thank you.” Sue beamed at him.

He nodded and flicked me a look before he lowered his eyes, as if he was too shy to meet my gaze. “Do you fish, Forde?”

Not many people didn’t here. “Aye, sometimes. Haven’t in a while.”