He passes her a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill.
My expression has fallen as it penetrates that Susanna called Ray “Hot Stuff” in the beginning, too. And then she called him DeathRay, because she wanted him dead, I guess.
The thought is sobering. A little.
“That’s okay,” she tries to hand it back, “We’re cool. You two have a good night, though.” She gives me a beaming smile.
I manage to paint one on.
“Then buy some rounds. Get home safe,” he orders and doesn’t take the money back from Susanna.
“Yes, sir.” She salutes him and tucks it into her bra before she hugs me. “Get it, girl,” she says into my ear without even trying to hide it.
I laugh. “Whatever. Love you, SusieQ.”
“Love you back.” She squishes me with a little growl and then sidesteps away and tap dances with jazz hands over toward the girls, who are all avidly watching us. Debbie looks at Killian with lust all over her face.
Hey. I find myself bristling at that.
I wave goodbye to all of them, feeling Killian put his hand to the small of my back and it’s like a red-hot brand on my skin. “Where’s your coat?”
“In my car.”
“Where’s your car?”
“At work.”
My office is just down the street. Underground parking.
“It okay until the morning?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say. “It’s fine there all weekend, really. I can get a cab to work Monday.”
He takes his leather jacket off and puts it over my shoulders as he walks me to the curb, where his SUV is. Right outside the pub.
He beeps the lock and opens the door.
“That’s very gentlemanly,” I say, my eyes sweeping from his very gentlemanly feet straight up to his eyes, which – oh – not so gentlemanly right now. They look almost roguish.
“In you go,” he says in a husky voice.
And I’m smiling until he gets in and closes his door and then it hits me. This scene. How weird it is.
“What’s goin’ on?” I ask him.
“Seatbelt, baby,” he says, starting the car.
I put the belt on.
“Have fun?” he asks.
“Yeah. I haven’t done that in … years. Where’ve you been all week?” I ask. “And why the Mister Bossy attitude?”
He flexes his jaw. “We’ll talk at home.”
“Is something going on?” I ask, suddenly concerned.
He shakes his head, but he’s clenching his jaw.
“Killian?”
“You sounded awful sassy on the phone. Now you’re bein’ all sweet.” His eyes travel my face.
“Well, yeah. I’m tipsy. And tipsy makes me like salted caramel. A little sweet, a little salty.”
His mouth twitches like he’s fighting off a smirk.
I continue talking. “Haven’t been tipsy in public in a long time. Except with you that night you took me to Genesis and that was barely tipsy because it was just a few glasses of wine. This, this is me with girlfriends and feeling a little like the old me again and cocktails and shooters, and… only some nachos and frickles for dinner, so I was sassy on the phone but now I see you and you’re all…” I gesture with a roll of my hand, “all Killian … and…” I shrug. “Guess I’m not brave enough to be sassy in person.” I giggle.
He chuckles with me, and God, it’s handsome. “All Killian?”
“Yep. Why did you cut my night short?” I ask.
“I got home and you weren’t there.”
“And?” I push.
“And…” he says, leaving it hanging.
“I was alone all week,” I inform.
“I’m aware. I was, too,” he says, tipping his head to one side.
And I find a modicum of comfort in that, for some reason. That he was alone. Not shacked up with Jessa or some other girl.
“And you heard about the hip bone thing?” I ask.
“What hip bone thing?” he asks fake-innocently.
“You know,” I say, pouting. “You got a spy following me? I mean… I didn’t see anybody, but do you?”
“I have no one following you, Violet.”
Is he fake-innocent or is he actually innocent on that matter?
“Oh. Then you don’t know the thing I said about your hip bones?”
He flashes me a big smile. We’re at a red light.
“I did, however, watch you dance for the past twenty minutes.”
“Oh,” I reply.
He leans over a little and it’s kind of magnetic, so I lean in, too.
Killian’s eyes rove my face for a minute before his eyes sparkle playfully. “If you weren’t drunk, Violet, I’d kiss you right now.”
I purse my lips briefly before I say, “If I weren’t drunk, Killian, I’d stop you.”
He stares. And the sparkle catches fire.
I stare back, feeling it crackle between us.
He licks his lips and then his hand is cupping my jaw.
I lick my own lips as my lashes lower.
I hear someone honk from behind us. They lay on their horn. Hard.
“Horny!” I grumble, calling over my shoulder. “Oh. Green light,” I add, gesturing to the windshield.
He laughs and because his eyes go back to the road, we move through the intersection. He’s shaking his head with humor as we take a sharp left after the light.