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He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, face turned towards the sound of her feet. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She touched his hand and he took her elbow, but he didn’t move off when she did. She turned to face him. His eyes were focused over her head, then he dropped his chin and frowned.
“Do I need to apologise?”
“No.” That was insulting; couldn’t he tell she’d been all in? Surely he didn’t need functioning eyes to know she’d loved every minute of being with him.
“Good. So what’s changed?”
Everything. “I don’t know what you mean.” Nothing, she was an insecure school kid still.
He stepped into her, the toe of his shoe stopping against the toe of hers. “It wasn’t the altitude. It wasn’t the darkness. I didn’t kiss you because we were forced together.”
She got brave, like she’d learned to be after Lenny and before Hamish’s injury. “Why did you kiss me?”
“Are you embarrassed by being with me?”
“No. No.” She stepped away, shocked he’d think that.
Damon’s hands went to his hips, fists folded. “Then whatever it is you’re doing, stop it right now.”
She’d made out with the guy, but sharing spit didn’t mean he got to dictate how she reacted to him. She took another step away. Hamish had ruled her moods for years. She was complicit in that. But it was never going to happen again. She took another step back. Damon was perfectly capable of getting himself home.
His arms dropped to his sides. “Don’t freak out on me, Georgia.”
She took another step. This would be better anyway. Be Lenny for once. Dump Damon before he dumped her.
“I’m sorry.” She said it so softly he might not hear it over the cackle of noise from the bar: rhubarb mumbles and laughs, discordant funk. She turned her back on him and walked away. She got halfway to the exit and had to know. Had he rescued himself, had Dalia or Ed or Jace found him? He was standing exactly where she left him.
She moved around to stand in front of him. He had his head down and his eyes closed. She walked into his space, put the toe of her shoe against the toe of his.
He inclined his head. “Where’d you go?”
He wasn’t Hamish. He was funny and bright and interested in her, and he kissed like he’d gotten a High Distinction in sex god class. “I was having a freak-out.”
A smile ticked at the corner of his mouth, the dimple knotting his cheek. “Is it over?”
No, it was on spontaneous repeat like a gif that made you giddy. “Maybe?”
“My fault?”
“In a roundabout way.”
“Going to tell me about it?”
“Do I have to?”
“Only if you want me to back off.”
“I don’t.” She was going to get smashed up by this, but it was time something, someone broke through her walls and made her feel good again.
He opened his arms wide. “I want to kiss you in the light, in the open too.”
She took a breath, maybe the last sane one before the men with the white coats came, and stepped into him, her arms going around his waist, her head lifted to meet his. He took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. No mistaking this kiss for play. It was harsh light of day firm, real life deliberate, hitting the centre stage of her heart and dropping the curtain on her resistance.
She’d thought to reclaim her life in bits; in fits and starts and small steps, but you didn’t always get what you planned on, and Damon was an immoveable force, an object she had no interest in navigating around.
His mouth was by her ear. “Turn around. Let’s get that drink.”
