Chapter 47
Nate told himself he was just going for a drink.
Nothing more.
It had been a long day, and he needed to clear his head. The fact that Elijah happened to be at the same bar was completely irrelevant.
At least, that was what he kept repeating as he pushed open the heavy door of the dimly lit lounge on 8th Street.
Music pulsed low in the background, and the scent of whiskey and leather filled the air. The crowd was a mix of business professionals winding down after work and younger, edgier types looking for trouble.
And Elijah fit in perfectly.
He was leaning against the bar, effortlessly confident, dressed in all black, his sharp jawline illuminated by the glow of the overhead lights. He was nursing a drink, casually scanning the room-until his gaze landed on Nate.
A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.
Nate regretted coming immediately.
“Well, well,” Elijah mused as Nate approached. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Nate muttered, signaling the bartender for a whiskey.
Elijah smirked. “That your way of saying you missed me?”
Nate shot him a look. “That’s my way of saying I want a drink, not a conversation.”
Elijah hummed, tilting his glass before taking a slow sip. “Shame. I was hoping we could get to know each other better.”
Nate ignored him, focusing on his drink. He wasn’t here for small talk. He wasn’t here for Elijah.
And yet, the longer he sat there, the harder it was to ignore the way Elijah’s knee brushed against his. The way his voice dipped lower when he leaned in.
“You don’t have to be so uptight, you know,” Elijah murmured, his breath warm against Nate’s ear. “I won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.”
Nate clenched his jaw. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“I think you’re intrigued,” Elijah countered smoothly. “And I think you hate that you are.”
Nate downed the rest of his whiskey and set the glass down harder than necessary. “Enjoy your night, Reyes.”
He stood up to leave.
But before he could take a step, Elijah caught his wrist again-just like he had earlier that day.
Nate froze.
Elijah’s grip was firm but not forceful, his thumb brushing against Nate’s skin in a way that sent an unwanted shiver down his spine.
“Stay,” Elijah said, his voice quieter now, lacking its usual teasing edge.
Nate turned back to him, his resolve wavering.
He should say no. He should walk away.
But the look in Elijah’s eyes-intense, searching, challenging-made it impossible.
Nate exhaled sharply. “One drink. That’s it.”
Elijah grinned. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Nate knew he had made a mistake the second he sat back down.
Elijah was watching him like a predator who had just cornered his prey-relaxed, confident, and way too sure of himself.
“You always this tense?” Elijah asked, swirling his drink.
“You always this annoying?” Nate shot back.
Elijah chuckled. “Only when I’m interested.”
Nate tensed. “You don’t even know me.”
“That’s the fun part,” Elijah said smoothly. “Getting to know you.”
Nate rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t ignore the way Elijah’s gaze felt like it was peeling away layers he wasn’t ready to expose.
“So, what’s your story?” Elijah asked, resting his arm on the bar, turning his body toward Nate like he had all the time in the world.
“I don’t have one,” Nate replied flatly.
“Liar.”
Nate stiffened.
Elijah smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Everyone has a story. Let me guess-you’re the responsible type. Always in control, always following the rules.” He leaned in, voice lowering. “But deep down, you wonder what it’d be like to break them.”
Nate swallowed hard.
He hated how easily Elijah could read him. How in just a few hours, he had unraveled something Nate had spent years keeping locked away.
“Am I wrong?” Elijah asked, tilting his head.
Nate looked at him-really looked at him. At the confident smirk, the knowing gleam in his eyes, the way he made it all seem so easy.
And maybe that was what irritated him the most.
That Elijah wasn’t afraid.
That he could sit here, flirting openly, not caring what anyone thought.
Nate envied that.
And it scared the hell out of him.
“Goodnight, Reyes,” Nate muttered, pushing away from the bar again.
But this time, Elijah didn’t stop him.
He just let out a quiet chuckle. “See you around, Nate.”
Nate ignored the way his stomach flipped at the way Elijah said his name.
He ignored everything.
Or at least, he tried to.
Because as he walked out of the bar, he knew one thing for sure.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.
***
Nate barely slept that night.
Every time he closed his eyes, Elijah’s voice echoed in his head. The way he had looked at him, like he saw right through him. The way his smirk had held a promise Nate wasn’t ready to face.
It was infuriating.
And worse, it was tempting.
By morning, Nate had convinced himself it was nothing. Just a one-time meeting, nothing more. He’d never see Elijah again, and he’d go back to his normal, controlled life.
But fate had other plans.
—
Two days later, Nate pushed open the door to his usual coffee shop, running on four hours of sleep and a headache that wouldn’t go away. He needed caffeine, and he needed it fast.
What he didn’t need?
Elijah Reyes.
And yet, there he was, leaning against the counter like he belonged there, chatting with the barista like they were old friends.
Nate froze for a second too long.
Elijah turned at the movement, and the second their eyes met, that smirk appeared again.
“Well, well,” Elijah drawled. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”
Nate clenched his jaw and walked straight past him. He ordered his coffee, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck, ignoring the way his pulse spiked when Elijah casually leaned in beside him.
“You stalking me, Nate?” Elijah teased.
“You wish,” Nate muttered.
Elijah chuckled. “You look like you need something stronger than coffee.”
“I need you to shut up,” Nate replied.
Elijah grinned. “You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”
Nate inhaled sharply.
He needed to get out of here.
The barista handed him his coffee, and Nate turned to leave, but Elijah was right there, blocking his way.
“Relax,” Elijah said, holding up his hands. “Just making conversation.”
“I don’t want conversation,” Nate bit out.
Elijah tilted his head, studying him. “Then what do you want?”
Nate had no answer for that.
Because the truth was, he didn’t know.
And that was the most dangerous part.
—
Later that night, Nate was still on edge.
He had gone through his usual routine-work, gym, dinner-but none of it helped. His mind kept circling back to Elijah, to the way he had stood too close, to the way his voice had sent an unwelcome thrill through him.
So when his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number, his stomach dropped.
Unknown: Drinking alone is boring. Meet me at Sky Lounge.
Nate stared at the message.
There was no name, but he didn’t need one. He already knew who it was.
And he should have ignored it.
He should have deleted the message and gone to bed.
But his fingers moved before his brain could catch up.
Nate: How did you get my number?
Elijah: I have my ways.
Nate exhaled slowly.
This was a bad idea.
But for some reason, he found himself typing back.
Nate: I’m not looking for anything.
Elijah: Who said I was offering?
Nate’s grip tightened around his phone.
Everything about Elijah was dangerous.
And yet…
Ten minutes later, he was out the door.
And he had no idea why.