Speakeasy (True North #5)(58)

Then I turn on my heel and walk away, my hands clenched into fists. I can feel their eyes on me as I go. The anger that’s risen up inside me is too big for this room. So I thread my way between the milling people and go all the way outside, where the December air is bracing. I let the door fall shut and then yell, “FUCK!” as loudly as I’m able.

It doesn’t even help.

I was supposed to buy this place someday. In the days since Hamish died, I’ve realized that it might not work out for me. I don’t have a real contract on paper, and I don’t have a funding plan in place.

In my life I’ve gotten used to disappointments. But if Giltmaker expands next door to the Gin Mill, I have a big fucking problem. The beer tourists will all be foaming at the mouth to watch the stuff get made.

And Otto is one of his backers. He’ll watch me fail, and he won’t be nice about it.

The door swings open and May comes out of the building. “Hey! Are you all right? I saw you run out.”

“Fine,” I say through a clenched jaw. I’m not at all fine. But it’s not May’s fault. “Come here, would you?” I open my arms. She only hesitates for a split second, but it’s long enough to depress me even more. Then she steps close and I fold my arms around her. She feels warm and vital in my arms. I tuck my chin onto her shoulder and sigh. “I know I’m supposed to be your fun friend. But I’m not feeling super fun tonight.”

“No snaps tonight,” she whispers. “Not even one.”

“Not even one,” I echo. Except holding her is doing funny things to my tight chest. When I feel her heartbeat against mine, it matters a little less that my friend is dead and a bunch of smarter businessmen than me are going to crush me under their tires on their way to world domination. I take a deep breath of May’s feminine scent, and sigh it out. “Come home with me tonight.”

She pulls back a little bit. “Alec, I can’t. I have work in the morning. And you won’t be done with the party until late.”

“And you’re here with your family,” I add, because I’m angry and not behaving all that well. “Your brother might wonder why you’re slumming it up with me.”

“Alec.” She lets out a soft sigh.

“What? I don’t get it. What’s wrong with you and I spending time together?”

“Not a thing. But I don’t want to re-explain myself to my family every few weeks.”

Usually I take this explanation at face value. But tonight I just ache.

It must show, because May tilts her head and studies me. “Oh, Alec. What the hell am I going to do with you?” She stands up on her tiptoes and kisses me.

And it’s a kiss that makes promises May can’t keep. Slow and tender. Even if her words disappoint me, May’s kisses are never ambivalent. That soft mouth welcomes me inside to plunder and stroke. I push her up against the bricks and let her know how much I need her right now. Come to me, my kisses say. I’ll make it worth your while.

Until the door bangs open.

I back off, but not before finishing the kiss I was in the middle of giving May.

When I’m good and ready, I look up to find Chelsea standing there, cigarettes and lighter in hand, mouth hanging open. “I guess this means you’re not free later?”

“Uh…” I truly don’t know what to say.

“I should probably go,” May says quietly, sidestepping me.

“No,” I catch her hand and give it a squeeze. I wasn’t done talking to her yet.

Chelsea’s eyes widen further, and it dawns on me that holding May’s hand bothers her more than me making out with May against the side of the building. “I see,” she whispers. Then she turns and stomps off.

“Fuck.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. There’s a headache brewing behind my eye sockets. “We had a casual thing a few times…”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” May says quickly.

“I know that. But…” I groan. “She and I aren’t that close. I didn’t know she would get quite so offended.”

“Oh, please.” May looks at me like I’m the dumbest man alive. “I don’t think you know your own power. It’s way too easy to get attached to a guy like you.”

“A guy like me,” I repeat slowly. I don’t know what the fuck that means. Furthermore, it doesn’t make any sense. “Then how come you’re immune?”

“I’m not immune, it’s just…”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence, because my waitress Becky comes running out from the path in the woods. “Alec!” she yells.

“What now?”

The wild look on her face is terrifying. “Smitty OD’d in the storeroom!”

“He what?”

“There’s a needle and he’s not breathing.”





Chapter Twenty-Two





May


“Becky—go inside and find Benito.” Alec points at Hamish’s studio door. “He has Narcan in his car. And call 911 if nobody did that.”

The moment he finishes the sentence, Alec takes off like a shot toward his bar. And I follow him. It’s dark out, and the moon hasn’t risen yet. So after I get about ten paces into the trees, I can barely make out the path. The only way I can see at all is that starlight reflects off the snow on either side.