“I’ve never been to this bar,” I told Quinn once we’d found a table and ordered drinks. Stiff drinks as Jack had told us to.
It was a small place, cozy even, with soft music playing on the sound system. From what I could tell, the customers seemed to be a mix of straight and gay which helped me relax. When we’d first walked in I had cringed, thinking it was some neighborhood place where the patrons might make us feel uncomfortable, since Quinn had his arm around my waist. I should have known better. Quinn wouldn’t have done that to either of us.
“And just how many bars in the city have you been frequenting,” Quinn replied, smiling.
“Well,” I chewed my lip thoughtfully. “Not as many as you’re probably thinking. Just the ones in my neighborhood when…when things would get bad.”
“That’s going to change, Blair.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Are you telling me I can’t go out to one of them if I want to?” I didn’t know whether to be angry that he was trying to boss me around or happy that he cared enough that he didn’t want me in some bar on my own.
“Not at all.” He took my hand, looking directly at me. “I mean things aren’t going to get bad enough again that you think you have to do that.”
“And you can guarantee this?” My eyebrow rose to accent the cynicism of my comment.
He didn’t back down. “I’m for sure going to try.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t certain how to respond to that so I didn’t.
“Okay, cards on the table here, Blair. I know we hardly know each other but from the first time I saw you I knew you were going to be important to me.” He looked away a frown creasing his forehead. “When I thought you were the killer it hit me hard, real hard.”
I was still uncertain what to say, I mean what can you say when you realize the man you’ve fallen hard for admits that all you are to him is ‘important’. Like you’re some new friend that he’s trying to decide what to do with. Where to pigeonhole you in his life without upsetting the apple cart.