"Caleb is a detective with the CPD," I rush out, trying to keep the peace.
"Gotcha," Leo responds and his shoulders relax. "In that case, yes. We took down Wilkes. It’s also a topic that hits close to home, so if we could drop it and not discuss work tonight, I’d really appreciate it." Leo grins, but there’s something dark behind it.
"Fair enough." Caleb smirks and takes a sip from his scotch.
We sit in uncomfortable silence for a minute before Emma breaks the tension.
"Isn’t that Tom Cole over there?" she asks, looking across the restaurant.
"Who?" Caleb follows her gaze.
"It is! We should go say hi," she announces before jumping to her feet.
"Who the hell are you talking about, Emmy?"
"Would you shut up and come on?" she snaps, dragging him toward the bar.
I immediately let out a relieved sigh that makes Leo chuckle beside me.
"I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought them." I look up to find his chocolate-brown eyes staring down at me.
Leo is a ridiculously good-looking guy. He’s not the clean-cut type I usually go for; he’s more edgy. His light-brown skin and dark hair make for an exotic look. He has a thin layer of scruff covering his strong jaw, but it’s not because he forgot to shave—it’s trimmed to perfection. His no doubt designer jeans are purposefully tattered, and the stylish, white button-down stretches across his hard chest. He must catch my eyes drifting, because his already wide smile grows before falling flat.
"Yeah, bringing the family with you on a first date is a little unusual. At least it wasn’t the parents though." He moves his arm off the back of my chair and takes a pull off his beer. I can immediately feel the distance he just put between us.
"My parents are dead. This is pretty much the same thing," I blurt out, because clearly, somewhere over the last few years, I’ve lost all social awareness.
"Wow. This just got even more awkward." He drains the rest of his beer in one long sip.
"Shit. I’m sorry. I warned you this was a bad idea."
Ignoring my apology, he points down at my water. "You don’t drink at all or just not tonight?"
"Not at all."
"Good. Let’s get out of here." He pulls cash from his wallet and drops it on the table.
"Um, we just got here," I answer, surprised, and glance up to where Emma and Caleb are standing nose to nose at the bar, ignoring everyone around them.
"Right. But this isn’t a date with them here. It’s an interview. They seem like good people, but the only person I want to get to know tonight is you. There’s a little dive Mexican restaurant a few blocks from here. Since you don’t drink, there’s no point staying at a martini bar."
"They have food here too," I state, trying to figure out his real motives behind leaving.
"And it’s really good, but we’re starting over. New restaurant, new date. Just me and you. We’re doing it right this time. "
"Oh. Um…"
"Say goodnight. I’ll meet you outside." He turns and heads out the door without another word spoken.
Well, I guess I’m going on a legit date with Leo after all.
Fuck.
"GET YOUR ass up," I hear Slate say as he walks into my room.
I’m sprawled out on my bed, naked, with an empty bottle of Jack on the nightstand.
"Nice. Really fucking nice," he bites out, snatching open the curtains.
"Jesus Christ, Andrews!" I toss an arm over my face to shield my eyes from the unwelcome light.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Oh, I don’t know. I wasn’t aware sleeping was a crime," I snark back at him.
I knew he would come eventually. I just hoped I’d be gone by the time he showed up. But I haven’t had the balls to leave yet.
"She’s called you twenty-seven times. Twenty-seven fucking times she has dialed your number. Twenty-seven!" he roars, rushing the bed, kicking it at the last second. "We both thought you were fucking dead. I dropped everything and rushed over here two God damn days before my wedding only to find you passed out in bed. Drunk. What the fucking hell is wrong with you?!" he screams, throwing the empty bottle of Jack across the room.
I have never seen Slate lose it like this before. It’s alarming and—confusing.
"Chill the fuck out." I grab my head, trying to slow the pounding inside.
"Right. Of course." He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and throws it at me. "Call her," he demands.
"Can I have a fucking second to take a piss and maybe put on some clothes?" I snap, dragging myself to my feet only to fall back against the bed when my dizzy head can’t catch up.