Chapter 5 #2
“Can’t. I’m on a mission.” Adrian helped himself to the whiskey bottle on Ben’s desk, pouring a generous measure into his glass. “Nina is worried about you. She says you’ve been snapping at everyone even more than usual.”
“I’m fine.”
“Annabelle says you growled at a customer for asking about the specials.”
“He was annoying.”
“George says you threatened to fire him for breathing too loud.”
“He was breathing too loud.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of whiskey. The silence stretched between them, comfortable despite Ben’s irritation. They’d known each other too long for social niceties.
“So,” Adrian said finally, his tone deceptively casual. “I hear there’s a new teacher in town.”
His hand tightened around his glass. “So?”
“So, nothing.” Adrian’s grin widened. “Just making conversation. I heard she’s pretty.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Curvy. Brunette. Smells like sugar, apparently.”
And vanilla, he thought, but he managed to keep the response locked away.
“I heard the kids love her. Half the staff at the school are already in love with her too, from what I hear.” Adrian swirled his whiskey, watching him over the rim. “Single, too. Just moved here from Charlotte.”
“Is there a point to this?” he snapped.
“Just wondering if you’ve met her. You being neighbors and all.”
“We’ve exchanged words.”
“Friendly words?”
He remembered the look on her face when he’d accused her of mocking him. The hurt that had flashed across her features before she’d covered it with indignation. The way she’d squared her shoulders and refused to back down, even though he had at least a foot of height on her.
“Brief words,” he said shortly.
Adrian nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Well, if you’re not interested, maybe I should introduce myself. Been a while since I had a date, and I do love a woman who can cook.”
Something dark and dangerous stirred in his chest. His fingers tightened around his glass hard enough that the crystal groaned in protest.
“Stay away from her.”
The words came out low and rough, more growl than speech. Adrian’s eyebrows shot up, but his smile only widened.
“Something you want to tell me?”
“She’s my neighbor. I don’t want you sniffing around and making things awkward.”
“Uh-huh.” Adrian leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “That’s why you’re crushing that glass like it insulted your mother.”
He forced himself to loosen his grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” Adrian was quiet for a moment, studying him with those annoyingly perceptive amber eyes. “What’s really going on, Ben? This isn’t like you.”
For a long moment, he considered lying or deflecting or even throwing Adrian out of his office and pretending the conversation never happened.
Instead, he heard himself say, “She brings me food.”
Adrian blinked. “What?”
“Sara. The teacher.” The words felt strange in his mouth, too revealing by half. “She brought me brownies two days ago. And this morning, I found cookies on my doorstep.”
Adrian was staring at him now, all traces of teasing gone from his expression. “She brought you food. Voluntarily. Without you asking.”
“Yes.”
“Homecooked food.”
“Yes.”
“Ben.” Adrian set down his whiskey glass, his voice serious for once. “You know what that means.”
Of course he knew what it meant. Among Others, the act of providing food was intimate—a declaration of interest, of care, of intent. It was how courtships began. How bonds were formed. A female bringing food to a male she wasn’t related to was practically a proposal.
“She’s human,” he said roughly. “She doesn’t know.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“She’s a kindergarten teacher from the city. She probably gives food to everyone.”
“Probably.” Adrian’s tone was skeptical. “But you haven’t thrown it away, have you?”
He thought of the brownies he’d devoured in one sitting. The cookies that hadn’t survived the drive to work. The way his whole body had warmed when he’d seen her careful handwriting on that notecard.
Thank you for shoveling my driveway.
“No,” he admitted. “I haven’t.”
Adrian was quiet for a long moment, watching him with an expression that was almost sympathetic. It was unsettling, coming from a werewolf who spent most of his time making terrible jokes and chasing women.
“You know,” Adrian said finally, “there’s no law that says you have to be alone forever.”
“I’m not alone. I have you idiots.”
“You know what I mean.” Adrian leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Whatever happened with the band, whatever made you walk away from everything—it’s been six years. Maybe it’s time to let yourself want something again.”
“I don’t want anything.”
The lie tasted sour on his tongue.
Adrian clearly didn’t believe him, but he had the grace not to push. Instead, he stood, draining the last of his whiskey in one smooth motion.
“Just think about it,” he said, heading for the door. “And maybe don’t growl at the next customer who asks about the specials. It’s bad for business.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.
He sat in silence for a long time, turning his empty glass between his fingers.
Outside, he could hear the sounds of the tavern—laughter, conversation, the clink of glasses and the thump of music from the old jukebox.
His staff. His regulars. The life he’d built from the ashes of the one he’d left behind.
It was enough. It had been enough for six years.
But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Sara standing at her window, tears on her cheeks, listening to him play.