Bree’s grip on my arm tightened. “This one’s hungry,” she said conversationally. “He lifts now.”
The absurdity of that was so distracting that my foundations stabilized, and I was able to discreetly pull in a deep breath. The urge to say something equally dumb, like, “Yeah, my dad and I lift together, and we’re going to own this building!” grazed over me, but the buzz in my pocket from my phone—a special three-buzz sequence set to the cadence of Li-em Lott—dispensed it.
It was like having a little angel in my back pocket.
MyLittle Beastsaving the day even from miles away.
“Lifting?” Austin asked, his gaze dragging down my body.
It did not elicit feelings of pride. It elicited nothing.
I didn’t need to impress Austin. I hadn’t been able to before, and there certainly was no reason to try now.
“Are you back working at Fortuna?” he asked when I didn’t continue the conversation, and I let go of Bree’s arm as we made it to the front of the line.
“Order for me. You know what I like,” I whispered, her answering nod and small smile a comfort that warmed me before I turned back to Austin. “No, I’m not,” I said, managing to maintain eye contact. “I think my casino days are behind me.”
He swallowed thickly and ran his hand through his hair, the crease between his brows deepening. “So, you’re what? Just….” He glanced around us, but the rush had finished, and barely anyone was in hearing distance. “You’re okay?”
I frowned, not expecting the question, but another three buzzes prodded my ass cheek, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
He scoffed lightly, his expression turning pained. “Somehow, I figured that.”
It might have made me an asshole, but I didn’t care to explore what he meant by that. We really had seemed like a good match in the beginning. He was disciplined and ambitious, but most importantly, he’d asked me to go with him when he signed on to work the cruise ship instead of outright leaving.
It hadn’t occurred to me until later—as in, right now—that he’d only asked me after he’d signed his own contract, which meant that he would’ve gone regardless of my choice.
But considering my state of mind at the end of last summer, the most important fact was that he’d been going somewhere at the time I thought I needed to lose myself.
And God, had I achieved that.
When I glanced back up at him, there seemed only one thing to say.
“I’m sorry, Aus.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “You said that before.”
I shrugged. “It’s true.”
I’m sorry I didn’t know what love was.
I’m sorry I used you to escape.
I’m sorry that I’m not sorry that it’s over.
Bree appeared beside me then, quickly masking the flash of concern on her face as she handed me my drink. “Ready?”
I nodded at her and turned back to Austin. “Take care. I hope you and the band have a great season.”
His eyes bored into me for a long beat before he sighed again and dipped his chin.
Bree pulled me toward the front door then, but as we made it there, I paused and glanced over my shoulder, a tiny part of my subconscious wanting that final confirmation.
My gaze found Austin’s across the room, and he stiffened as our eyes met. Then he turned his back to the room. To me.
Yeah. He would have always let me go, which was good.
