Chapter 9 Kira/Landon #2
He walked down the bar to deliver the drinks to a middle-aged couple. “Enjoy your evening, folks,” Josh said smoothly, flashing a grin that probably earned him half his tips.
When he returned seconds later, brushing his hands off on his khakis, I gave him a look. “You’re a fountain of encouragement tonight, you know that?”
“Hey, soon enough, you’ll be able to tell stories about all the patrons of this bar, too.
” He tilted his chin toward the other edge of the bar.
“See that guy, Nathan Hansley? One elusive motherfucker. Owns his own cybersecurity business or whatever. I have no idea, but I do know that he tips better than Santa in December.”
I followed Josh’s gaze. The man in question sat alone, glass nearly empty, posture relaxed but alert, like a lion lounging just before a kill.
Dark green eyes flicked toward me, catching the bar’s low amber light.
They were sharp and unflinching. His hair was jet-black, cropped short on the sides and swept back on top.
Effortless in that expensive, too-much-effort kind of way.
I looked away before he could catch me staring.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I muttered to Josh before heading down the bar.
I stopped in front of Nathan, keeping my expression neutral. “Can I get you a refill?”
He tilted his head, studying me with a look that made my skin prickle. “Whiskey. Neat.”
Of course. In my experience, 90 percent of powerful men like him went for a whiskey neat. The other 10 percent? Pina coladas.
Hey, I didn’t make the rules.
I poured the drink, the bottle heavy and smooth in my hand, then slid the glass across the polished wood. His fingers brushed it, deliberate and steady.
“Thanks,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Landon, right?”
I stiffened for half a second before recovering. Wiped my hands on the bar towel. “How’d you know that?”
Nathan shrugged, the corners of his mouth curving like he was in on a joke I hadn’t heard yet. “I make it a point to stay informed about who’s new around here. Comes with the territory.”
I didn’t feel it appropriate to point out that I wasn’t exactly new.
“What territory’s that?”
He swirled the glass in his hand; eyes still locked on mine. “Not important. Besides, it looks like you’ve got your hands full now anyways.”
“What are you—”
I cut myself off mid-thought, my words dying in my throat as the door swung open to let someone inside.
Kira.
“Good luck,” Nathan said, shooting the drink down his throat. I’d never admit it, but it looked pretty damn cool.
He stood, slipping his blazer back on with practiced ease. The kind of movement that said, I’ve got my life together, and you don’t. He tossed a crisp fifty onto the bar without breaking stride. “Looks like you’re going to need it.”
There was something off about this guy. I hoped I’d never see him again, but something told me our paths would collide more than I’d like.
Kira waltzed toward the bar like she owned the room, every step measured, her black heels clicking against the hardwood.
She wore a short navy dress that hugged her in all the right places, paired with black stockings that left just enough to the imagination.
Her hair was down, silky waves framing her face like she’d stepped out of a vintage film reel.
And then there was her face—God, her face. That same soft curve of her jawline, those deep, coffee-dark eyes that could disarm you in a heartbeat.
My pulse kicked up a notch. I couldn’t help it. Her beauty made everything else fade into static. Not great when I was supposed to be working.
I reached for the rag on the counter, mostly to give my hands something to do. If I didn’t, I might accidentally say something monumentally stupid like, I love you, will you please do me the honor of ruining my life?
Kira made it to the bar and leaned in, her elbows resting on the polished surface as she met my gaze head-on. Her sharp, observant eyes feasted on me.
“Landon,” she said, her voice smooth and familiar, like the opening chords of my favorite song.
“Kira,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, as if my heart wasn’t currently staging a rock concert in my chest.
She glanced backward toward the door, then faced me again. “You should be careful with Nathan.”
I froze. “You know him?”
“Not well,” she answered. “Macey is dating his cousin.”
“Noted. What can I get you?”
“Whiskey sour.” Her tone was casual, but there was an edge to it.
“Coming right up.”
Kira kept her eyes trained on me the whole time. It was intimidating, like she was searching for a flaw or an explanation. I finished making the drink in silence and handed it to her, along with a cup of water.
She wrapped her fingers around the glass, her grip just a touch too tight. “Thank you.”
I glanced at Raul, the third bartender, who had just clocked in and taken over the rush at the other end of the bar. That gave me a few extra minutes to focus. I crossed my arms, leaning slightly against the bar. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Kira stirred her drink lazily with the straw, not looking up.
“It’s not like you to show up at a bar alone.”
She cocked an eyebrow at me, her expression sharp and guarded. I could almost see the gears turning, the instinct to fire back with something snarky—she always saved her sharp edges for me. But then her posture shifted. Instead of lashing out, she softened. “Maybe I just needed a drink.”
“Fair.” I nodded, though my gut told me there was more to it. Personally, I needed several drinks, but that was neither here nor there.
Kira took a small sip, her eyes on the glass. “Don’t you need to take care of your other customers?”
I leaned in slightly, dropping my voice. “None of them are as important as you.”
That earned a flicker of a smile, the corner of her mouth tugging upward despite herself. “You as a bartender suddenly makes a lot of sense. You must flirt your way into all the tips.”
I gasped, putting a hand to my chest. “I would never. My charm is entirely unintentional.”
Her laughter was soft but real. Then I sobered, an uncomfortable realization creeping in. “But I wouldn’t flirt with someone who has a boyfriend.”
The atmosphere shifted. Whatever lightness Kira had been holding onto slipped away in an instant. She set the glass down with a deliberate motion. “Xavier and I broke up.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“You broke up?” I managed, keeping my voice neutral, or at least trying to.
Kira nodded, her eyes on the condensation pooling at the base of her glass. “A few days ago.”
I didn’t trust myself to respond immediately, so I busied my hands by wiping down the bar, though my focus stayed on Kira. I should have felt bad—and maybe a part of me did—but mostly, there was this treacherous flicker of relief.
Unless…
“Did he do something?”
She took a small sip of her drink, like she needed the burn to get through it. Then, quiet but steady, “He was the one who trashed the CCC.”
My grip on the glass tightened, knuckles whitening. Rage surged through me, hot and fast. I wanted to punch something. Xavier, preferably.
“That motherfucker.” I tossed the bar towel onto the counter and pushed off it like I might actually go find him. “Where does he live? Let’s vandalize his place in return. Spray-paint his Tesla or whatever overpriced crap he owns.”
Kira let out a short, almost surprised laugh. “Tempting. But I’m not one for revenge. When I figured it out, I told the police and ended things.”
I exhaled through my nose, trying to reel the heat back in. “He didn’t deserve you anyway.” The words were out before I could stop them.
Kira’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing in that way that always made me feel both wary and amused. “I’ve told you I don’t care about what I do or don’t deserve. Besides, you’re hardly the authority on that.”
“I may have done you wrong, but that doesn’t mean I think no one should treat you right.”
She simmered down and nodded. “Now you can see why I want to take a night to drink quietly and avoid answering questions from my friends about what happened or how am I feeling.”
“It sounds like you have great friends.” A customer flagged me down from a table. Damn it. “Take all the time you need. Drinks are on the house. I’ll be around.”
I darted over to clear the table and brought them another round, moving as fast as my legs would carry me. Any hope of a quiet lull in the evening quickly evaporated. Instead, it was an onslaught—group after group demanding drinks so complex they could’ve doubled as science experiments.
Normally, I’d embrace the chaos. Anything to keep my thoughts from wandering.
Tonight, all I could do was steal glimpses of her.
Kira chatting with the middle-aged woman beside her, nodding as if she were a seasoned therapist. Kira ordering an exotic cocktail with the kind of confident ease that made me question how she’d ever dated someone as bland as Xavier.
Kira laughing when someone bought her a shot, her head tilting back like she didn’t have a care in the world.
If my only privilege for the rest of my life was catching fleeting moments like these, I’d count myself lucky. They were more than I deserved. Yet some cavernous part of me ached for more.
When I saw the third shot vanish down her throat, I knew it was time to intervene. Her cheeks were flushed, her grin was wide, and her hands wavered like they weren’t entirely sure where they belonged.
I finished serving a pair of spicy margaritas and made my way back to her. She was mid-conversation with a guy in a thrifted jacket that screamed I have a half-finished poetry collection in my bedroom.
“Let me take you home,” I interrupted, sliding between them without so much as a glance at him.
“I’m having fun, Landon,” she sang.
“You can have fun picking a playlist in my car,” I said firmly. “Ten minutes. I’ll clock out and drive you.”
She leaned back slightly, arms crossed, barely keeping her balance. “No, I’m good here.”
Stubborn as a mule in heels.
“She doesn’t want you,” thrift-store Shakespeare chimed in. “I’ll make sure she gets home.”
I turned to him, giving him my full, unimpressed attention. “And you are?”
“Kenny.” He puffed up his chest.
“Great. Kenny, why don’t you take your bad haircut and get out, too?”
“I—”
“Ugh.” Kira’s dramatic groan interrupted the start of an argument. She picked up her purse and stood a little too fast. “Men ruin everything.”
With that probably accurate realization, her eyes cleared, and after a resigned sigh, she downed the rest of her water. Bless Raul for slipping her that.
I held out a hand, steady and patient, even as my jaw clenched. She ignored it but followed me out anyway. Kenny didn’t say another word.
In the parking lot, we were steps away from my car when Kira stopped short in her steps. I paused, hoping that whatever she needed could happen in the car. It was chilly this evening, and I didn’t have a jacket.
“I lied to you,” she announced, then wrinkled her nose. “No, technically, I misled you.”
I rubbed a hand over the stubble on my jaw. “What are you talking about, Kira?”
“Why I broke up with Xavier.” She stepped closer to me, enough that I could smell her perfume. Lavender. Different from the vanilla scent she wore back in high school but still beautiful. “It was because of the vandalization, but that wasn’t the only reason.”
“What was the other reason?”
“You.” She pointed a finger toward my chest.
I instinctively stepped back. What was she talking about? As childishly tempting as it might have been to devise some breakup scheme, I stayed away from it. I didn’t want to interfere with Kira’s choices. “How?”
“Because you’ve ruined everything for me.” She started counting her fingers. “Affection, sex, normal lovey-dovey touches. I’m bad at all of it! Xavier tried to be patient with me, but he probably would’ve broken up with me anyways because of it.”
“What?” My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “That would make him an idiot. Okay, I’m serious, give me his address right now.”
“I just told you I have problems with sex and your first instinct is to go beat him up?”
I didn’t understand. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to have sex with someone, Kira. Incompatibility is a common issue between people.”
“It’s not just Xavier. It’s everyone.” She faltered. “Except you. It makes me feel pathetic.”
I reached for her cheek, stroking with my thumb. “You’re not pathetic, sweetheart. If that’s the way your mind works, that’s okay. Fuck any guy who thinks differently.”
“I feel pathetic because it’s only ever been good with you. Physically, emotionally, all of it. When anyone else touches me, I-I don’t feel what I should. Theo cheated on me because of it. Jae told everyone I was bad in bed. And he was right.”
“That’s not true,” I insisted. “You’re good at it, I promise. He’s an idiot. They’re all idiots.”
Kira pushed at my chest, and I stumbled back, shocked.
“You’re not listening to me. I’m not just saying that sex is better with you.
I’m saying that I feel nothing with other men.
Nothing. It’s so frustrating. Everyone else is out finding people that they like or want to take home every weekend, but it takes me three business days’ worth of thinking before deciding if I want to hold someone’s hand.
By the time I decide, they’ve moved on.”
She shook her head, but it didn’t stop a few tears from leaking out of her eyes.
“Kira…” I tried to reach out to her, but she held up a hand. “The way you feel and think…all of this? It’s a part of who you are. There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. I think it’s beautiful.”
She snorted. “You think my intimacy problems are beautiful?”
“What’s beautiful is how much you value the people you let in. You don’t rush things or settle for shallow connections. When you love someone, it’s real. And fuck any guy who can’t appreciate that.”
I tried once more for an embrace, and to my surprise, this time she was quick to accept it. She wrapped her arms around my torso, and I squeezed. “I know it’s not the same, Kira, but I know I’ll never love anyone again the way I’ve loved you.”
I had no idea if that was the right thing to say because it only made Kira dissolve into sobs. We stayed there for a long time, the chill of the evening disappearing around us.