Chapter Thirteen
TRISSA
H ow had I let Killian talk me into this?
The neon bar sign flickered above us, illuminating his face with an eerie glow. A mixture of anxiety and something else I wasn’t ready to admit yet had me on edge. Maybe it was the way Killian’s presence seemed to fill every available space, even when he wasn’t touching me.
“So what’s the game plan?” I asked, fidgeting with the strap of my purse. More than anything, I wanted to head back to the car, pull my ereader out of my purse, and read my latest rom-com. “I mean, I can’t just walk in there and say, ‘Hi, I’m Trissa. Want to help me figure out how to attract my boss?’” I groaned.
Killian’s lips quirked into an irritating half-smile. “Probably not the best opener, Tink.” He leaned closer. I caught a whiff of his cologne, and a prickling began under my skin. “Just be yourself. Charm them with that Trissa magic.”
He winked, earning a snort-laugh from me. “Right. Because I’m so good at getting guys to ask me out.” God, I couldn’t say how long it had been since my last date. Six months? A year, maybe? I did a mental check on my calendar and realized it had probably been even longer.
His eyes softened for a moment, and I had to look away. “You’ll do fine,” he soothed, his voice low and rumbly and doing things to me that I didn’t want to unpack. “I’ll be at the bar, keeping an eye out. If you need an escape, just… I don’t know, tap your nose or something.”
“Tap my nose? What am I, a cartoon character?”
He shrugged, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Would you prefer to yell out ‘Mayday, mayday?’”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “Let’s go with the nose thing.”
As we walked towards the entrance, I pulled the edges of my cardigan together and looked down at my worn jeans. Would I be underdressed compared to the other women inside?
I slowed my steps. I couldn’t go in there. What was Killian thinking? Jeans and a cardigan? For speed-dating? I’d look like I’d wandered in by accident.
“You okay?” His brow furrowed.
“Hold on,” I dug into my purse and pulled out a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick. “I need to at least try to look like I made an effort.”
Killian watched as I applied a fresh coat of red lipstick and smacked my lips together. His gaze felt heavy, making my hands shake slightly under the scrutiny. “You look fine, Tink.”
I snapped the compact shut. “Fine is not the word any woman wants to hear when she’s getting ready to date ten different guys.”
His lips thinned, and he grunted an unintelligible response.
I waved my hand at him. “It’s easy for guys. You’re dressed in a hoodie and jeans and still somehow look like you’ve stepped off the cover of a magazine.”
He smirked. “Careful, Tink. That almost sounded like a compliment.”
I glared at him and yanked open the door. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
He took the door from me and gestured inside.
The bar hummed with nervous energy. Several small tables were set up, each with a number and two chairs. My palms began to sweat, and I rubbed them nervously on my jeans, instantly regretting it, hoping I didn’t leave a wet spot behind.
Killian’s hand on the small of my back nearly made me jump out of my skin. He leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear, making me shiver. “I’ve got you.” His voice was low, almost intimate, and the rush of heat on my cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment.
I nodded, not trusting my voice or the fact that my stomach rolled so hard I thought I was going to be sick. He tugged his cap lower as he sauntered to the bar, and several women’s heads turned to follow him. Most likely trying to see if he was here for the speed-dating event.
My chest felt tight at the hunger in their eyes, which was ridiculous. Killian wasn’t mine. I only felt protective over him because of our friendship.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I tried to ignore the way my skin still tingled where he’d touched me.
I took a deep, steadying breath and approached the check-in table. A young, perky brunette handed me a name tag and a scorecard. “Grab a seat at any table, and once everyone is here, we’ll get started. Have fun!” Her overly excited voice made me cringe.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, pinning the tag to my cardigan. “I’ll try.”
I glanced at the bar, and panic swept through me when I didn’t see Killian. I scanned the rest of the room and spotted him at a small table close to where the event was happening. It was close enough that I was pretty sure he could listen in on the conversations.
He hunched forward, his elbows resting on the table, and with a quick glance even I had trouble recognizing Killian. Appreciation fluttered through me like gentle butterflies in flight. It was a risk being here without security and a flimsy hope that he wasn’t recognized. I couldn’t imagine why he was taking such a risk for me.
I flashed him a tentative smile and chose the seat closest to him. He gave me a quick chin nod, then returned to his drink. But as I settled into my chair, the heat of his gaze made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
A waitress stopped by to take my drink order. The situation called for a double, but instead, I asked for a margarita.
Slowly, all the tables filled up, and my first “date” arrived. We introduced ourselves. His dark black hair was slicked back, and his smile too wide, but I reminded myself this was just for practice.
“So, Trissa,” he said, breaking the ice first. “I’m Brad. What do you do for fun?”
What did I do for fun? My life had been consumed with Peter for so long. I fought the urge to escape as each second passed. Instinct had me wanting to start counting things to calm myself. Instead, I blurted out, “I, uh… I like to count things.”
Brad’s smile faltered. “Count things?”
I threw on a bright, overly broad smile, deciding to go with the insanity spewing out of my mouth. “Yeah, you know. Like how many orange cars I pass as I’m driving. Or how many stop lights until I get home, or how often someone says a word in a conversation. Like the word ‘um’.”
“Oh, okay.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He must think I was some kind of weirdo. Or a math savant. I almost snorted.
“How about you?” I sipped my drink, hoping it might cool down the raging inferno heating my cheeks.
“I, um, like cars.” His eyes jumped to mine, and I remembered my comment about counting the number of ‘ums’ someone said. Apparently, he did too.
Laughter tickled at the back of my throat.
As Brad prattled on about his car collection, my gaze drifted to Killian. Our eyes met, and the intensity in his stare made me forget what Brad was saying. I quickly looked back to Brad, I should’ve taken the chair facing away from Killian.
The timer mercifully buzzed, and Brad practically leapt from his seat.
The next guy, Mike, seemed nice enough. I attempted small talk, cautious about not being weird or awkward. Which, of course, made me even more self-conscious.
As Mike talked, I made the mistake of laughing a little too loudly at one of his jokes. Out of the corner of my eye, Killian’s hand tightened around his glass, his knuckles turning white. Was he already disappointed in me?
I turned my attention back to my date. It was going really well until he asked about my favorite movie.
“Oh, I love … ” I wracked my brain for a movie title. Any movie. “The Godfather,’” I practically shouted, proud of myself for coming up with one. Didn’t a lot of guys like that movie?
Mike’s face lit up. Jackpot. I wanted to do a little dance in my seat. See, Brad was just practice. Dating was like riding a bike or maybe a horse. Either way, I was crushing this speed dating thing. “Really? What’s your favorite part?” he asked.
My mind went blank. I’d never actually seen “The Godfather.” Why had I said that? “Um… the part with the horse,” I said weakly. I vaguely remember Peter’s driver, Leo and Peter talking about it when a marathon of all the movies was on after Christmas one year.
Mike blinked a few times, his enthusiasm deflating like a balloon. This time, he didn’t hide that his eyes swung to the timer set at the front of the room. When the buzzer went off, he didn’t even bother to say goodbye before he slid off his seat and headed to the next table.
Between dates, when they called for a break, I sipped my drink to calm my nerves. At one point, I knew instinctively who hovered behind me. Killian leaned over, his lips close to my ear. “How’s it going, Tink?” His gruff voice sent shivers down my spine.
I turned to face him, suddenly aware of how close we were. “It’s been … interesting,” I managed to say, my voice catching as his cologne invaded my nose.
His eyes searched mine, and his gaze pinned me in place. Then they dipped to my lips.
Was he thinking about kissing me? Holy hell. Did I want him to kiss me?
“Yeah, that’s one word for it,” he grumbled. “This was a dumb idea. Let’s get out of here.” His voice was low and tight, with an edge that surprised me. This had been his idea. Why had he changed his mind?
I didn’t think my self-esteem could reach a lower level than it was already at. It was clear he thought I was a failure.
I needed to prove to him I could. “No,” I argued. “I’d like to stay. To keep trying.”
Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. When his lips pressed together, I was sure he was about to demand I leave the building. Then, without a word, he returned to his seat. I watched him go, confused by the combination of relief and disappointment I now felt.
As the event wore on, my panic grew, and my answers became increasingly bizarre. I told one guy I collected vintage spoons. I didn’t. Another that my dream job was to be a professional bubble wrap popper. It wasn’t, but I couldn’t tell him I worked for Peter Young. By the time I met with the last guy, I was ready to crawl under the table and hide.
The final guy, Mason, seemed sweet. He had kind brown eyes and a gentle smile. “Rough night?” he asked sympathetically.
I sighed, slumping into my chair. “Is it that obvious?”
He chuckled. “Well, the last guy tried to warn me on my way over. He seemed convinced you were an undercover alien studying human mating rituals.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I told him I wanted to probe his brain for science.”
Mason’s laughter was warm and genuine. “Well, that’s unexpected.”
“He asked if I believed in aliens, and I was trying to make a joke. Clearly, it didn’t land as intended.”
“If he can’t take a joke or realize you were making one, he’s not the right guy for you.”
For a moment, I relaxed. “Thanks. This is even harder than I thought it would be.”
He nodded. “Listen, I get the feeling you’re not really here to find a date.”
I tensed. “What do you mean?” Had I been that obvious?
He smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. Neither am I. My sister set this up for me. She thinks I need to ‘put myself out there’ more.”
“Oh,” I said, relief washing over me. “Yeah, I’m … I’m not really looking, either. To be honest, I still have a thing for a guy.”
He sipped his drink. “Same. There’s someone I’m struggling to let go of right now. My sister is well-intentioned, and I know she worries about me, so I came tonight to make her feel better.”
I reached over and laid my hand on top of his. “It’s sweet that she cares so much.”
Mason flipped his hand so he could link his fingers with mine. Having this camaraderie with him was nice. But I didn’t feel that same jolt I did when Peter or Killian touched me. “It is.”
My gaze flicked to just over Mason’s shoulder as movement caught my eye. Killian sat at the same table, nursing what looked like his original drink. His eyes were fixed on me and his jaw was tight. The knot in my gut that had released while talking to my ‘date’ resurfaced.
I slowly slid my hand from Mason’s grasp.
He flashed me a sympathetic grin, tilted his head in Killian’s direction, and lowered his voice. “I take it he’s the one you have your heart set on? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”
Fire shot up my core and settled in my cheeks. “Oh, um, no, no. We’re just friends.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but the daggers he’s been shooting the other guys might say differently.”
I giggled nervously, sneaking a glance at Killian. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. “I think you just misunderstood. He’s like a big brother to me.” The lie felt like ash on my tongue and I realized I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was trying to convince myself more than Mason.
The final timer sounded, ending the event. Mason stood and offered me his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Trissa. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” He lifted my hand and lightly pressed his lips to the back of my knuckles. “I look forward to seeing you again someday.” He released me and left.
Killian’s hand closed firmly around my elbow. “I think it’s time to go.” He practically growled in my ear.
The possessiveness of his tone shot a thrill right through me. I’d have to squash that. It wasn’t him my heart wanted. I shouldn’t be reacting to him like this.
It must be the stress of the event. The relief of the familiar, safe, face.
Yeah. It had to be. Otherwise …
Squash it, Byrd!
“But I have to turn in my sheet,” I protested, not understanding the fierce way he tucked me under his arm and urged me toward the door. His body was warm against mine, and I leaned into him despite my confusion.
He yanked the dating score sheet away from me, balled it up, and dropped it on the floor.
“Killian, you can’t just litter?—”
His rough grunt stopped me from speaking. He picked up the paper and tossed it into the nearest trash receptacle. What was happening right now?
We stepped out into the cool night air. Killian’s arm was still around me. He could’ve let me go at this point, but he didn’t. I was confused, more than a bit frustrated, and … something else too … something that made me uneasy, but in a delicious kind of way.
Nope. Not delicious. Delirious. You’re mad, remember. Stay mad!
“Killian,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?”
He stopped abruptly and turned to face me. His blue eyes were dark, intense, and for the second time this evening I thought he might kiss me. But no, that was crazy. This was Killian. We were nothing more than friends.
“Nothing,” he spat.
I jerked away, stung by the harshness of his tone.
He didn’t say it, but I wondered if the tension between us was his frustration over how disastrous the speed dating had gone. From where he sat, I know he heard every conversation I had. He must have realized this was why I couldn’t get Peter to notice me. I was too awkward. Inept. A hot mess. Comically deficient.
“I just …” he started, then pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, yanking the man bun out and looking uncharacteristically flustered. “I didn’t like seeing you with all those guys. They weren’t good enough for you.”
“But that was the whole point,” I said, confusion clear in my voice. “Practice, remember? How am I going to learn how to attract someone without practice?”
“Yeah, well, maybe this wasn’t the best way for us to figure things out for you.”
I didn’t miss how he side-stepped; directly mentioning how this was supposed to be for him to observe me.
My gaze swung down to the asphalt beneath my feet. It was like I’d disappointed him without understanding how. “You were the one who suggested this. I didn’t want to do it, remember? You insisted.”
He nudged my chin, forcing me to look directly into his azure depths. “I did.”
I swayed forward, placing my hands on his chest to hold me steady. He shuddered at my touch and I wondered why. Did I repulse him?
His eyes darkened, his pupils dilated, and …
Oh my God. He was going to kiss me!
His hand slid up the side of my cheek and cupped the back of my neck, tugging me closer. I sunk into him willingly. We froze, taking each other in. The whisper of space between us, the air charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm. I opened my mouth to say something, and—a car horn blared. We jumped apart and my senses returned.
Killian stepped away, the spell broken. “Come on,” he said, his voice gruff. “Let’s get you home.”
“But—I need to get my car from the parking lot,” I reminded him, forcing myself back to the present.
He grumbled his protest.
“Killian, I’ll need my car tomorrow.”
“Max will pick you up,” he snapped, grabbing my hand securely and tugging me towards his car. As my feet shuffled forward, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this almost-kiss had changed us.
“No,” I yanked my arm. I was tired and I didn’t feel like just giving in to him. And I wouldn’t admit out loud that his sudden change in behavior hurt my feelings.
Now that the event was over, I just wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep.
And forget about tonight. All of it.
“Don’t fight me on this.” He let go and walked a few steps ahead of me, then turned around, clearly expecting me to follow. “Please?”
I stopped short. Tonight had been hard for me in so many ways, and his high-handedness mixed with the simple-but-polite please was rubbing me the wrong way. And now my temper—the old foe that Killian could always bring out—was resurfacing.
“Tink—” That deep, growly, stubborn voice returned.
Killian was a force. He’d steamroll me until I agreed. But it had been a long time since I relied on him, and for some reason, I didn’t want to right now, not with him being angry at me. And while the car situation was small, I had no intention of conceding. Not after what he’d just put me through and the mind-game he’d just pulled on the sidewalk.
“If you won’t take me to my car, I’ll order an Uber to go get it.” I pulled my phone out of my purse.
“Damnit, Tink!”
I matched his glare with one of my own, willing it to be just as fierce.
He stomped away, then turned back to me. “Fine.” He threw up his hands. “I’ll take you to your car, but then you will call me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”
“Yes, Dad,” I sassed.
He grunted but didn’t snap back.
I wasn’t sure why I was needling him. Or why I wanted to get under his skin. Well, maybe I did. His see-saw behavior was just as draining as the speed dating.
He opened the back passenger door for me and I slid in. I buckled my seatbelt and edged towards the door until my side was pressed against it and I was as far from him as possible. I needed to stay the course.
My feelings were all mixed up because of Killian’s unexpected reappearance in my life.
That was all.
I was grateful for his help.
Nothing more.