Chapter 4
Tapping his fingers against the bar top, Kieran sweeps his gaze over his surroundings. People. So many people. He needs to press down on his leg to keep it from bouncing nervously. How is he supposed to talk to a girl with so many eyes around? He really misses the security of the phone screen.
Damned Dawson. This is all his fault. Why does he have to be all reasonable and shit?
Whatever. Tonight is the night—he’s gonna approach a nice girl and charm the pants off her. But first things first—liquid courage. While it might be wiser to stay sober, since experience has shown he tends to do and say stupid shit when he’s drunk, this is an emergency.
On cue, the bartender slides a shot-glass towards him. “Here you go.”
“Cheers.” Raising the glass in a salute, Kieran downs his second shot of tequila. Yeah, that’s better. He signals the bartender for a refill. He’s not quite there yet, but to his chagrin he’s always been a lightweight, so a couple more shots should do the trick.
Someone squeezes in next to him, brushing against his arm. “I’ll have a Pina Colada, thanks,” says a deep, smooth voice, very incongruous with the drink order. “Is this seat taken?”
That’s probably not aimed at the bartender. Without looking at the newcomer, Kieran waves a hand.
“Go ahea—” A glimpse of a familiar face makes him pause. Then rage. “You,” comes out in a hiss. Seriously? Why does this have to happen to him? Why today?!
Stool scraping across the floor, Ash sits his haughty ass on it. A corner of his mouth curls upwards. “Me.”
Okay. Deep breaths. In and out. Nice and easy.
“What are you doing here?”
The bartender pours Kieran’s shot, then Ash’s girly drink.
“Enjoying a drink.” Ash holds it up before slurping it through the straw. It makes for a very bizarre picture.
“Well, go enjoy it somewhere else,” Kieran says snappily, throwing his own shot back.
“Tastes better in good company.”
“Then you should go look for some.” He turns, giving Ash a nice view of his back. He doesn’t have time for this. He came here with a single-minded purpose and, finally, he can feel the alcohol working its magic, a rush of warmth running through him.
He looks around the bar again. A couple of tables in the middle have cleared, giving Kieran an unobstructed view of a group of four girls he didn’t notice before.
His focus is drawn to a redhead laughing at something one of her friends said.
She’s super pretty, wearing a dark green dress that suits her perfectly.
She’s drinking some purple-colored crap, and Kieran makes a note to ask the bartender about it later, so he can order it for her.
“Not that one.”
Kieran twists around to shoot Ash an annoyed look. “What?”
Ash nods towards the group. “She’s not interested. She came here to have fun with her friends, not hook up.”
Patronizing fucking asshole. Who asked him? And anyway, he can’t possibly know which of the girls Kieran’s interested in.
“Oh really? So you’re a mind-reader now?” He carries on before Ash can get another irritating word in. “Newsflash, asshole, just because you’ve got a piece of paper that legally allows you to mess with people’s heads doesn’t mean you know everything.”
He’s not sure what he expected. From what he’s seen so far, Ash doesn’t seem the type to allow criticism to get to him, let alone the type to apologize. He seems the type to always have a stupidly witty remark ready, to twist words and use them against the other person.
So Kieran is surprised when, instead of saying anything smartassy, Ash only looks at him, unnervingly intense.
Something in his expression softens, causing a weird, squirmy sensation in Kieran’s stomach, and he quickly averts his gaze to signal the bartender for one more refill.
He downs the shot in one go and pushes the stool back.
It only takes him a few seconds to find his footing, and soon enough he’s marching towards the table with the pretty redhead.
As he approaches the group, four pairs of wary eyes instantly turn to him. His throat closes up, his legs feeling weak. Pushing past the urge to turn around and run away, he takes a deep breath and summons his best smile.
“Hi, ladies, sorry to interrupt. I’m Kieran.”
No one smiles back, but they all reply with a meek “Hey.” Well, that’s okay. At least he’s not getting ignored.
Keeping the shaky smile in place, he turns towards the redhead. Get it out of the way. Like a band aid. “So…I noticed you from the bar and wondered if you’d like to have a drink with me? Later,” he adds, noticing her drink is still half full.
“Oh,” she says, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She attempts a fleeting smile, and fuck, it’s obvious what that means. “Thank you, but…” She looks around the table pointedly. “It’s a girls’ night out, so I’m good.”
Kieran grits his teeth, hoping his annoyance doesn’t show. Not at the redhead—at the fucking prick at the bar. Why did he have to be spot on?
“Right. No biggie,” he waves it away. Awkwardly, he adds, “Well, have fun.”
“Thanks, you too.”
With one last smile, he turns around and walks away. Well, that was a bust. On the other hand, it could’ve gone much worse. At least the girl was nice about it.
“Can I have another one?” Kieran asks once he’s back at the bar, pointedly avoiding looking anywhere in Ash’s direction.
He has no interest in seeing that smug face.
He contemplates leaving the bar altogether, but doesn’t want to give Ash the satisfaction.
A girl blew him off, so what? He’ll take it like a man.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, impatiently waiting for his much-needed refill.
“I didn’t say anything,” Ash says smoothly. Calmly. How is he always so fucking calm?
“Well, I can hear what you’re thinking.” He makes a greedy grab for the shot the bartender just poured.
“Who is a mind reader now?” Ash retorts, making Kieran roll his eyes. “And I doubt that.” He moves, his arm brushing against Kieran’s fleetingly, breath sweet from the pineapple juice. When he speaks, his rumbly voice sounds incredibly close. “You’d act differently if you could hear my thoughts.”
Kieran feels his body tense up like a bowstring pulled to its limit. With clenched hands, he gives Ash his best unwavering look. “Dude.”
Ash’s lips twitch, his eyes literally sparkling with the bullshit he’s no doubt about to spew. “Yes, dude?”
Just breathe. Dawson said the fucker does this shit all the time. “I’m straight,” he says as calmly and firmly as possible. Which is not an easy task, given how fast his heart is pounding. Thank god for the shitty bar music that covers up the erratic sound.
Ash doesn’t even blink. “I’ve heard.”
“So take your perverted ass somewhere else.”
Ash’s gaze, sharp and predatory, sweeps over Kieran head to toe, infuriatingly slowly. It makes Kieran’s skin prickle with awareness, heat spreading through his abdomen. Wait, not heat—rage. It’s always rage where the asshole is involved.
“Are you sure?” Ash purrs, sending a shiver of…disgust down Kieran’s spine. He leans even further into Kieran, somehow managing not to touch him at all. “You were right, you know,” Ash carries on. “I do read minds.”
“Oh yeah?” Kieran challenges, glaring daggers at him. He vividly imagines wrapping his fingers around Ash’s throat so he can’t utter another condescending word. Maybe rearrange his face a little, so it’s not so annoyingly symmetrical anymore.
Ash’s lips stretch into a full-blown grin.
It’s different from his usual, patronizing grins and taunting smiles.
It looks almost…genuine, transforming his whole face, and Kieran spends a long, embarrassing moment just staring stupidly at him.
Mainly because his vision has started to go a bit blurry.
He’s brought back to his senses when Ash finally, finally moves away, giving him some much-needed space to breathe. “You know, anger is a cover emotion.”
“What?”
“A cover emotion. It’s a protective mechanism.”
Oh dear god. Not this woke bullshit. First Zeke, and then this whacko. “I didn’t ask—”
“It’s protecting and covering up for something much deeper and way more vulnerable,” Ash carries on merrily. God, he really must love the sound of his own voice.
“I’ll stop you right there. I’m not paying you for an unsolicited therapy session.”
Ash barks out a laugh, a hearty, warm sound that’s at complete odds with his personality. “I’m not on the clock. Consider it a freebie.”
“Well, I don’t want it.” He’s had enough to last a lifetime.
“Are you sure?” Without missing a beat, he leans into Kieran again. It’s not as close as before, but somehow it feels even more intense, Ash’s presence even more unbearable. “I happen to be very good at seeing through the layers, right to the very thing you’re trying to hide.”
Wow, someone thinks very highly of himself. He’s spent a few years with his nose buried in textbooks and now he thinks he’s all-knowing. The only thing he’s good for is slapping labels on unsuspecting people who’re looking for help. That’s all. He doesn’t know shit about Kieran.
So why does it feel like he’s looking right into Kieran’s soul?
Because you’re fucking drunk and thinking nonsense.
Yeah. That must be it.
Ash’s voice reaches his ears again. Despite them being so close, it’s as if it’s coming from far away. “I know exactly what it is that you want, that you crave. You don’t have to say a word. Doesn’t that sound good? Imagine what I could do with that information if you gave me the green light.”
Due to the interference of some higher power, Kieran’s phone vibrates in his pocket at that moment, allowing him to snap out of the weird fucking trance he got sucked into. He jerks away, giving Ash a look of utter loathing. Or he at least hopes that’s how it comes out.
“Why don’t you start a career in fortune telling? After all, bullshitting people is what you do.”