Fuck that.
Johnny delivered a slim glass filled with a harmless-looking, frothy pinkish-purple liquid. “I call it Amnesia. Let me know what you think.”
So Johnny thought she couldn’t handle some hard liquor. One more man who underestimated her. She took a full drink and was pleasantly surprised. Sweet with a hint of tart, but the burn of alcohol was there. Still didn’t think it’d give her amnesia, but it tasted good.
She’d put herself out there for Ronan, allowed him to see all the parts of her she kept separate. She was falling for him and believed his words, but his actions told a different story. Everything from Brendan asking for her help to not inviting her to a birthday party. He was keeping her at a distance.
Johnny wiped down the bar and pointed to her nearly-empty glass. “Like it?”
“It’s better than I thought it would be. Thanks.”
“Want to tell me about it?” He leaned his forearms on the bar in the classic bartender pose.
“What?”
“You’ve been pissed off all night. Friendly to the customers, but I could see the anger bubbling up.”
“Just personal stuff.” She waved him off.
“I’ll be back in a minute. Let me close these guys out and you can vent a bit.”
She smiled and shook her head. Johnny was a good guy, but she didn’t feel the need to spill her guts to him. He moved around behind the bar, letting the regulars know it was time to go.
When the guys were done, they tossed a few bills down for Johnny. He scooped them up and collected their glasses. Chloe slid from her stool and walked the customers out, locking up behind them. She returned to her seat to find a fresh drink waiting.
Johnny smiled as he rinsed a glass. “So what’s going on?”
Chloe sipped the drink and then looked around as if someone else might be listening. “There’s this guy I’ve been seeing. I thought we were getting serious, but I don’t think it’s the same for him.”
“Ooo...juicy. Anyone I know?” He wagged his eyebrows.
“I don’t think so. But it doesn’t matter. He was supposed to be a quick fling and things got complicated.”
“How so?” he asked as he swept behind the bar. She had to give him credit—he was good at multi-tasking.
“I had some information he needed and I bartered that for fun.”
“I never pegged you for a naughty girl.”
Chloe smiled. “Most people don’t. I come from a nice Catholic family, and I’ve always done what was expected. I wanted my parents’ approval, so I was a good girl. But it never fit, you know? It was natural for me. I just put on a bright smile and swallowed down my instincts.”
She drank some more, enjoying the buzz of alcohol singing through her. “Anyway, the thing with this guy went from being a quid pro quo thing to something more. He said he wanted more. This was his idea, but now he’s backing off, keeping me at a distance.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Right?” She slapped the counter. “I was totally fine keeping it casual.”
“No, I mean, are you sure you’re reading things right?” He stopped sweeping and kind of leaned on the broom handle.
“How can I not? There’s a family party that he not only didn’t invite me to, but he wasn’t even going to tell me about it.”
“The thing is, I’ve never met a man who says he wants something more unless he really does. If he brought it up, not in response to you—”
She waved her hands. “Totally him. His idea.”
“Then you’re misreading or something else is in play.”
She scanned her memory for other reasons for him to not invite her.
“Unless he’s into drama,” Johnny added.
Chloe burst into a fit of laughter. Ronan? Drama king? The man didn’t even like to talk to people. He was the most isolated person she’d ever met. He’d told her that he’d kept his distance from his family because it was hard for him to be around all of them.
“I’ll take that as a no then. Why else would he keep you at bay? To protect you from something?”
That sobered her. It started with him rejecting Brendan’s idea of her planting a bug. He’d been trying to keep her out of all of the business with the Cahills and his father. But she didn’t need his protection. People had been telling her what to do her whole life.
She was capable of making her own choices and decisions. After leaving Tim, she promised herself no one would ever make her feel that way again.
She was making her decisions now, so she pulled out her phone. The blurry screen made her squint. “How much alcohol is in these?”
Johnny chuckled. “Enough to make you forget.”
She blew out a breath and opened her eyes wide as if that would help her focus. Texting was out of the question, but she could make a call. She scrolled to Brendan’s name and tapped.
As soon as it was ringing, and she had the phone to her ear, Johnny looked up, horrified. “Stop! What are you doing? Who are you calling?”
She made a face at him that she hoped said, “Shut up,” because Brendan picked up.
“Chloe?” he asked, kind of muffled and gruff.
“Oh, shit. How late is it?” She looked around the bar before remembering they didn’t have clocks because they wanted people to lose track of time.
“What’s wrong?” he sounded much more alert.
Johnny reached for her phone, but she pulled back.