Page 45 of Beneath Your Beautiful

“This is known as a bar for bad decisions,” Hailey said, taking a swig of her beer. We’d made a pact to stick to one bottle of beer, and I was nursing mine. I didn’t need to make a fool of myself again.

I nudged Hailey’s arm. “We’re going to be sensible, remember?”

“Absolutely. I got my ass kicked in the kitchen tonight. I sweated out buckets. I’m not even sure how I’m still standing.”

“I know the feeling.” We both yawned at the same time, as if to prove it.

“At this rate, we’ll be asleep in the corner before this sad old country song ends,” Hailey said. “No wonder they’re always crying in their whiskey. If you sing like that, you deserve to have your woman done run off and leave you.”

We both cracked up over that one. “Country music’s big where I come from. In western Pennsylvania, all the rednecks drive around in pickup trucks, looking for things to shoot,” I said. “Then they sit back on the couch on their front porch and get drunk on PBR and Wild Turkey.”

“Where I come from, we make our own whiskey,” Hailey said, referring to her Midwest upbringing. “After a big Saturday night of riding around on your boyfriend’s tractor and making out in the cornfields, or rolling around the hay in the barn, everyone goes cow tipping for some real fun.”

“You can’t tip a cow.”

She laughed. “I know. But it never stopped us from trying.”

I looked over at a guy wearing a black leather vest and painted-on jeans with so many facial piercings I lost count. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”

“I’ll drink to that.” She clinked her bottle against mine, and we drank to that.

“Zeke’s the one who suggested I invite you.”

“Really?” Hailey asked, surprised.

“Maybe you guys should try being friends first. He’s a good guy.”

“You think he’d be up for being friend-zoned?”

“He and I are just friends so he’s capable of being friends with a girl.”

“Maybe.” She took a sip of her beer and scanned the room. “Killian keeps looking at you. Like, a lot.”

I followed the direction of Hailey’s gaze. Killian’s eyes caught mine, and he took a swig of his whiskey, still watching me. He was doing that thing he did, drawing me in with nothing but his eyes until I felt like I could barely breathe.

“What’s the deal with you guys?” Hailey asked.

“If I knew the deal, I’d tell you.” In the four days since that night at The Rooftop, Killian hadn’t mentioned it. Two nights ago, we went to a twenty-four-hour diner after work. It was me and three guys crammed into a booth. Killian sat next to me, his arm draped across the seat behind me, his thigh pressed against mine. Like he was marking his territory but making no move to do anything about it. Today, when he’d driven me to the art supply store, he’d brought me an iced coffee and a cinnamon roll. We’d talked and laughed all the way and he’d gotten a big kick out of my excitement in the art supply store. But yeah, I had no idea what was going on with us.

“That night at the hospital was so swoony,” Hailey said. “He took care of business, and he did it all for you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a control freak. It was a little over the top.”

“I’d love it if a guy went over the top for me. And if that guy looked like Killian, I’d be in seventh heaven.”

“Hey,” Zeke said, interrupting our conversation. “Our table’s ready.” He nudged my arm. “Ask Killian to be our fourth.”

I weaved my way through the crowd and stopped in front of Jared and Killian. After greeting Jared, I asked Killian if he wanted to shoot pool with us. “Pool?” he asked, as if the concept was foreign to him.

“You need another drink?” Jared asked him.

Killian looked down at his empty glass as if he was surprised to see it was empty and shook his head. “Nah. I’m good.” He squinted at the pool tables in the back and took deep breaths through his nostrils, like he was gearing up for something monumental. “Let’s do this.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, watching his face. “Are you—”

He reached for my hand and held it in his. As we walked through the bar, I looked down at our joined hands. His warm, strong, calloused hand, the palm pressed against mine, my hand fitting so perfectly inside his made my stomach all fluttery.

I looked up at his face. It was shuttered, his jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek jumping.