Page 41 of Pin My Alpha
“Eighteen months,” I say.
He glances over.
“Jude heard it from someone,” I add, because I need him to know I wasn’t researching him. “It’s not like I was running a background check.”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t.” My voice comes out sharp.
His hint of a smile vanishes. “Eighteen months,” he confirms, looking back at the record player. “I kept telling myself the next month would be the one. Then the next. Eventually, there weren’t any more months.” He shrugs, a small, tight movement. “I sold what I could. Took whatever work I could get.”
“That sounds like it sucked.”
“It did.”
He’s quiet for a moment. The silence feels like a test I’m not sure how to pass. “You had debt,” I say. It’s not a question.
He laughs once, a short, rough sound. “You really just start interviewing people when you get uncomfortable, don’t you?”
“I’m gathering context for my operational audit.”
“You’re nosy.”
“It’s the same thing.” My knee bumps his, and I don’t move it away. “How much?”
His eyes meet mine. “A lot. Enough that I was scared to open Byrne’s for years after.”
There it is. The reason he looks at the bar like it’s the only solid thing in the room. It’s not just a business. It’s the proof he didn’t stay down.
“But you did it,” I say.
“Eventually.”
“Byrne’s works.”
“It does now.”
“No.” The word is sharper than I mean it to be. “It works because you made it work.”
His gaze locks on mine, and I immediately regret letting something sincere out of its cage. My whole face feels hot. I have to recalibrate. “Your margins are still a mess, though.”
That gets a real laugh out of him, low and warm. “Thank God,” he says. “I was worried you’d gone soft on me.”
“Never.”
The song ends. The needle hisses in the groove. Somewhere in the walls, a pipe knocks.
“What about you?” Declan asks, his voice quiet.
My whole body goes tight. “What about me?”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“Good.”
He doesn’t push. He just sits there beside me, close enough that the heat from his arm is a solid presence in the air. The exits are obvious. The apartment door, the stairs, down through the bar. I know exactly where they are. I just haven’t looked at them once since I sat down.
I glance at the apartment door anyway, just to prove I can.
