Page 16

Looking around, I furrow my brow in confusion. “Where’s Olivia?” Leo and I are late, so she should have been here by now.

Lydia sighs, pouring me a glass of iced tea and handing it over. “She had to cancel at the last minute.”

A low growl escapes, causing Lydia’s eyes to widen. “Everything okay?”

“No,” I mutter. “I’ve been trying to talk with her about the incident at the club and she’s avoiding me.”

“Ah.” Lydia leans against the counter, arms crossed, studying me like I’m an open book. “You mean Zeke?”

“Yes.” I’m exhausted and frustrated and concerned. My detective brain needs answers. “I need to know how she knows him and why he was so angry that she was there.”

“Yeah, that was odd,” Lydia admits.

“It’s concerning, that’s what it is.” I sigh and take a sip of my iced tea, wishing it was something stronger. “I just need to forget about him. Put it all out of my mind.”

“Or …” Lydia waggles her brows, grinning from ear-to-ear. “We can talk about it. I thought the entire room was going to catch fire.”

My stomach flips at the reminder of how intense our reunion was. “Catch fire? That’s one way to put it.”

“You didn’t tell me much about him before.” She cocks her head to one side. “Did you two date long?”

“Long enough,” I scoff, then try to brush it off as nothing. But it feels heavy on my tongue. “We went out several times after my divorce. It was nothing serious.”

Lydia’s gaze sharpens. “Nothing serious? It looked like he was ready to drag you into a corner and have his way with you.” She winks then her tone shifts to something more sincere. “He’s not just some guy if he’s got you rattled like this.”

“I didn’t expect to see him again. Ever.” I admit, taking another sip of tea as if it could wash away the awkwardness building inside me. I definitely need something stronger than tea if we’re going to keep talking about Zeke.

“But here you are,” she presses gently, searching my face for answers.

“Yeah.” I let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking my head as memories flood back—those first few dates where everything felt so promising before he vanished without a word. “And trust me, that’s not even the worst part.”

“What do you mean?” Lydia leans in closer.

“It’s complicated,” I murmur, fighting against the rush of emotions welling up inside me again.

I step over to the kitchen counter, searching through the cabinets until I find a bottle of gin hiding in the back. The cool glass feels familiar against my palm as I pour a generous amount into a shaker, tossing in ice like it’s an old friend.

A quick glance back at Lydia shows her still watching me, concern etching lines across her brow. She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her judgment. Maybe it’s deserved.

Shaking the mixture until my hands go numb, I wonder how often I’ve turned to this liquid courage lately. It dulls the edges of my memories—Ryan’s angry words slicing through my thoughts or Leo’s haunted eyes whenever he remembers his parents. For now, the gin washes away the past, at least for a few moments.

I strain the contents into a martini glass and admire its shimmering surface, so perfectly clear. It’s really a façade—though the outside is pristine, the elixir on the inside just numbs the nightmares that haunt me.

Lydia nudges me gently with her elbow. “Do you really need that tonight?”

“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. Then I smirk, finally turning to face her fully. “You sure you don’t want one? It’ll take the edge off.”

She shakes her head firmly. “Not tonight. It’s my Saturday to open the store.”

“Right.” I roll my eyes but can’t help a grin as I take my first sip, letting the sharpness linger on my tongue before it settles smoothly down my throat. Lydia works as a manager in a clothing boutique and works two Saturdays each month.

“Tell me what happened with Zeke,” Lydia prompts again, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. Her tone shifts from playful to serious.

I sigh, resigned to tell her about it. She’s clearly not going to let it go anyway. My heart races as I set down my drink and start filling her in on everything—how he made me feel things no man has ever made me feel before, how he ghosted me after those initial dates that felt so right, and how seeing him again stirred all those buried feelings.

“Can you believe it?” I finish, disbelief lingering between us.

Lydia purses her lips, shaking her head as she processes everything I’ve just revealed. “Men are trouble,” she finally says with conviction.