His mouth opens like he wants to say something but then his gaze goes to something behind me.
“All right,” he says, finally looking at me again. “I’ll take off. Be safe, though, okay?”
“Always.” I kiss his cheek and turn to the person who caught his attention.
Hotshot. Of course it is.
“What can I get for you?” I ask Sebastian. His gaze follows my father and slowly comes back to the bar. To me. It takes effort to force myself not to react to the quizzical way he’s looking at me, but I manage.
“You’re divorced?”
“Yep.”
I have no problems telling people of my time or my marriage to Evan. We were young. Made the wrong choice. Fixed it when we realized, and to this day, we’re friendly and amicable when we see each other. He’s now engaged again to a woman who teaches pre-school, someone much more suited to his conservative and simple ways.
I could go on and on with Sebastian, telling him all of it, because I haven’t forgotten that his wife has recently left him, but I’m still pissed and hurt at his earlier behavior.
“Need another drink?”
His tongue slips out, sliding along his bottom lip as those beautiful green eyes narrow. Damn him for being so darn good-looking when I’m irritated with him. I have a feeling the look he’s giving me right now has gotten him out of a lot of trouble in his days. Hard to be mad at someone who looks like the world’s cutest and maybe saddest puppy.
“Gigi—”
“Drink, Sebastian. It’s late. Last round. What do you need?”
That cute lip of his curls before it disappears into a thin line.
“One more pitcher for the guys,” he relents, sounding unhappy with me, but whatever.
I need to remember these guys, Sebastian specifically, aren’t my friends. Just because I see them every few weeks doesn’t mean we’re buddies. They’re customers. Good tipping ones.
While I pour up the pitcher for them, I work at plastering on my professional, polite face. I’m feeling pretty good I have it back in place when I face him again.
“Here you go. Enjoy your night.”
“Gigi. I didn’t mean to be a jerk earlier.”
“Okay.” I take the twenty-dollar bill he’s slid onto the counter even though the pitcher’s only ten. “Need change?”
“No. And would you talk to me?”
“About what?” It comes out as a snap and I inwardly cringe. This is silly.
He jerks back, stunned and then he shrugs. I wonder if he’s always been this sheepish or if it’s something new. I’ve tried not to pay too much attention to him since he’s married and all.
“Well, how have you been?”
This guy. A laugh bursts from me at the inane question. “How have I been? Good, Sebastian. I’ve been just fine, same ol’ same ol’ over here. But shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question?”
“Yeah.” He scrubs his jaw, the beard on his cheek, and shrugs. “About that.”
“How are you doing with Madison gone? You guys talk yet?”
“No. She won’t have anything to do with me. Even called her dad today and he wouldn’t put her on the phone either.”
“Her dad?”
“Yeah. Ever since she left me, she’s been staying with her family.”
“Madison left you?”
The outburst comes from a newcomer. Sebastian’s lips press into that line again, and his shoulders tighten before he turns to Jason, the new arrival. Behind him is Klaus, I’m pretty sure is his name. Cute and blond, I know he was born in Sweden but has lived in Canada and then the States for most of his life.
He does not look cute right now, though.
Both guys look like smoke might plume from their ears at any second.
“Madison fucking left you and you didn’t tell us?” Klaus sounds shocked. Pissed.
Jason looks like someone stole his most beloved possession.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her up.” I take a step back, away from the sudden surge of male anger pulsing along the other side of the bar.
“No,” Sebastian snarls at me. “You shouldn’t have. But maybe I shouldn’t have told you in the first place.” He shoves the pitcher in Jason’s direction, tosses another glare at me like this is somehow my freaking fault and grabs his keys from his pocket. “I’m out of here. You guys can have this.”
“Hendrix—” Klaus calls out but Sebastian doesn’t stop. Instead, the door flies open and he disappears out of it. The slam of it hitting the hinges causes a silence to fall over the whole bar.
Which is mostly his teammates.
“Shit,” I mutter, staring at the door.
“Well fuck,” Jason says. “Now I know why he’s been in such a shitty place lately.” He says it, speaking toward the door as well, and then his head swivels in my direction. “My question is… how in the hell did you know?”
I’m pretty certain I’ve said enough tonight. “Talk to your friend. I’m just the bartender.”
And I’ve most definitely been reminded of my place.
Chapter Seven
Sebastian
It occurs to me as I wake up from a night with little sleep, head thumping but not nearly as bad as the last time I went to George’s, and replay the events of the night before… that I might have overreacted and been a massive dick to Jason. Not only to him, but all of my teammates, and worse, I was an absolute ass to Gigi.
She’s been nothing but kind to me except for her attitude when I went to the bar and overheard her talking to her dad. Considering my earlier behavior, her bluntness wasn’t unwarranted.
Worse, I only went to the bar because I couldn’t stop trying to catch a glance of her all night. I tracked her around the bar, knew her every movement and yet every time she turned to look our way, I scowled at my drink.
It makes no sense. Why would I care where she was? Why would I like watching her pour drinks, kiss her dad, laugh with the other regulars at the bar?
Why did it make my jaw tic when she went and stood by the pool table when Klaus and Duke were playing, giving them crap, laughing along with them.
Why did I care about any of that when I was trying to hide my face from her? And worse… what difference does it fucking make anyway?
None of it does, but I’m not this guy. I’m not a jerk to my friends. I don’t fly off the handle and storm out of a bar. I don’t avoid hard conversations. Hell, the last two years of my marriage were filled with nothing but hard conversations. I should be a professional with them by now.
Sighing, I shove off my bed and hit the bathroom where I take a few minutes and get cleaned up. It’s early, only eight in the morning and we have the day off since we have to hop on the plane again tomorrow. I have all day and nothing to do with myself.
Stupidly, a woman who isn’t my wife is the only thing on my mind.
I might not have a chance in hell of making things okay with Madison, or saving my marriage, but I can make things right with Gigi.
At the very least, I can apologize for my asinine behavior. I’m not ready to talk to the team yet. I don’t want their pity-filled looks or slaps on the back. It’s become such second nature to hide my struggles over the last few years, it feels much too difficult to begin explaining now.