12-05-2024, 12:39 AM
Old-fashioned? Jay’s lips quirked into a lopsided smile as he gave her a once-over, equal parts intrigue and disbelief flickering in his eyes. “You? A whiskey girl? Never in a million years.” His tone was playful, teasing, but the sharp glint in his gaze suggested a genuine curiosity.
When the amber liquid arrived, nestled in its low glass, he eyed it with a mix of hesitation and temptation. The idea of diving in—joining her—was more appealing than he wanted to admit, even if it carried its own complications.
The question she asked next caught him off guard, its weight unexpected. His shoulders stiffened slightly, and he turned his focus forward, staring at the battered bar top as if it held the answers. Stalling, he tipped his bottle back for one last, regretful swig of the lukewarm dregs.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” he lied, the words dropping from his lips like a stone into dark water. He could feel the falsehood lingering in the air between them, heavy and obvious, but pretended not to notice. Jay was awful at lying—always had been—but this wasn’t for her benefit. This was for him.
The silence that followed was charged, teetering on the edge of awkward. Before it could tip over entirely, Jared’s voice cut through, brisk and casual, providing an escape hatch.
“Make it two,” Jay interjected, raising his hand to signal the bartender. If he was going to keep burying his demons, he might as well drown them in something top-shelf.
When the old-fashioneds arrived, their deep caramel hues catching the low light, Jay lifted his glass. “To marriage,” he said with a smirk, raising his drink toward Jared. “How’s it feel to be tied down, Wizard?”
The nickname landed with a grin, but there was an edge to his tone—half teasing, half genuine curiosity. He sipped the whiskey, savoring its warmth as it slid down his throat, delicious and bold, and let himself believe, just for a moment, that everything was fine.
When the amber liquid arrived, nestled in its low glass, he eyed it with a mix of hesitation and temptation. The idea of diving in—joining her—was more appealing than he wanted to admit, even if it carried its own complications.
The question she asked next caught him off guard, its weight unexpected. His shoulders stiffened slightly, and he turned his focus forward, staring at the battered bar top as if it held the answers. Stalling, he tipped his bottle back for one last, regretful swig of the lukewarm dregs.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” he lied, the words dropping from his lips like a stone into dark water. He could feel the falsehood lingering in the air between them, heavy and obvious, but pretended not to notice. Jay was awful at lying—always had been—but this wasn’t for her benefit. This was for him.
The silence that followed was charged, teetering on the edge of awkward. Before it could tip over entirely, Jared’s voice cut through, brisk and casual, providing an escape hatch.
“Make it two,” Jay interjected, raising his hand to signal the bartender. If he was going to keep burying his demons, he might as well drown them in something top-shelf.
When the old-fashioneds arrived, their deep caramel hues catching the low light, Jay lifted his glass. “To marriage,” he said with a smirk, raising his drink toward Jared. “How’s it feel to be tied down, Wizard?”
The nickname landed with a grin, but there was an edge to his tone—half teasing, half genuine curiosity. He sipped the whiskey, savoring its warmth as it slid down his throat, delicious and bold, and let himself believe, just for a moment, that everything was fine.
Only darkness shows you the light.