“You… you’re here with Steph?” he asks, closing the space between us. “Yeah. Hardin isn’t here, if that’s what you’re wondering.” “No, I…” His eyes move to my hand as I place the empty cup on the counter. “What is that?” “Cherry vodka sour. Ironic, isn’t it?” I say, but he doesn’t laugh. Which surprises me, given they’re his favorite drink. Instead, his face twists in confusion as he looks from my face, back down to the cup, and up to my face again. “Did Steph give you that?” His tone is serious… too serious… and my mind is slow. Too slow. “Yeah… so?” “Fuck.” He snatches the cup from the
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Ohhhhh no
