Page 44 of Heal Me, Love Me

The hostess grabbed two menus. “Right this way.”

Keaton’s hand stayed in mine as we followed her past the bar. The bartender turned with a pint glass in his hand, and even with shorter hair, I recognized the sharp nose and smug mouth.

Westly Ridgway.

My steps faltered before I could stop them, and our joined hands pulled taut between us.

Keaton stopped immediately. “Ro?”

Ridgway’s gaze swept over my face, then Keaton’s, before dropping to our hands. The pint glass tilted in his grip, beer spilling over the rim and onto his fingers. He smiled, slow and ugly. “Well, fuck me.”

Keaton’s fingers slipped from mine, and the space between our hands lasted maybe a second, but it was long enough to piss me off, though I was angry at myself, not at him. Once upon a time, I would’ve let a moment like that pull us apart, and I wasn’t doing that again. I reached for his hand and threaded our fingers back together. His gaze shot to mine, but I held on.

Then I looked at Ridgway. “Problem?”

“No problem.” He set the glass down and wiped his hand on the towel draped over his shoulder. “Just didn’t expect to see you two walk in here holding hands.”

I lifted a brow. “Looks like you survived it.”

The hostess glanced between us, her polite smile beginning to crack. “Your table’s this way.”

I held Ridgway’s stare for another second before turning back to her. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go,” Keaton murmured. “You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that means someone’s about to regret breathing near you.”

“He’d deserve it.”

The hostess seated us in a booth near the back, close enough to the bar that I could still see Ridgway but far enough away that I didn’t have to hear him speak.

As I took my seat, I said, “All right. I’m not going to ruin our date because Ridgway pours beer now.”

Keaton snorted as he slid in across from me. “Careful. I work behind a bar too.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“What is then?”

I jerked my chin toward Ridgway, who was pretending to wipe down the bar, but his attention kept drifting back to us. “He is.”

Keaton followed my gaze. “We both know he’s an asshole.”

“He is, but I meant what I said. He doesn’t get to ruin this.”

“Good.”

A server stopped beside our table with a tablet in her hand. “Hi, I’m Tessa. Can I get you started with drinks?”

“Water’s good for me,” Keaton said.

“Same,” I added.

As she walked away, Keaton’s attention shifted toward the bar. I followed his focus to Ridgway, who was still watching us.

“You just did the math too, didn’t you?”