Compass (Second Chances 1)
I tug on the silver hoop earring in my left ear. “I came to say that the kiss was a mistake.”
His lips twist back into a smile. “No, you didn’t.”
Gage always wore arrogan
ce like a badge. Obviously, that hasn’t changed.
“I did.” I drop my hands to my hips. “We shouldn’t have kissed.”
He takes a measured step closer to me. “We should kiss again.”
We should.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from saying that.
“I’ll make you a drink and we’ll talk.” He gestures to the handle on the door. “You didn’t come here because you felt nothing last night.”
“One drink,” I reply because I won’t give any more weight to his words about what I did or didn’t feel.
He moves past me to yank open the door to his bar. “One drink and we’ll go from there.”
***
Two martinis later and my self-control has disappeared.
I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m staring at Gage’s muscular arms as he prepares a tray of drinks for a female server who can’t take her eyes off of him.
Jealousy charges through me like a herd of wild horses.
I have no claim on the man.
He hasn’t been mine in five years.
He can flirt with anyone, kiss anyone, fuck anyone.
I scowl at the thought of him taking the server to his apartment and devouring her in his bed.
He looks in my direction, his gaze catching mine.
We haven’t had a chance to talk yet. He took over for Zeke when we first arrived and since there’s a baseball game on TV tonight, the bar is packed.
I’ve been nursing my drinks and texting my mom. She still has no idea that Gage has popped back into my life.
I was tempted to confront her and my dad about why they didn’t tell me that Gage reached out after our broken engagement, but it’s water under the bridge at this point.
They did what they thought was best for me at the time. They were trying to help me navigate my grief in the best way they knew how.
Gage approaches me with a white bar towel in his hands. “You have that look on your face.”
I run my fingers over my top lip. “What look?”
“You’re jealous.”
What the hell?
“I haven’t slept with her. I won’t be sleeping with her.”
“With who?” I ask in my best, slightly tipsy but nonchalant voice.