They all watched her finish the drink.
The tequila burned on the way down, sharp, and punishing, but she welcomed it. It gave her something solid to focus on. Something that wasn't Derek sitting inches away. Something that wasn't Jack not calling.
Before anyone could comment, she reached for another shot but she didn't get far. Derek's hand came down over hers. His fingers wrapped around her hand completely, dwarfing it. Warm. Solid. The pad of his thumb pressed lightly against her knuckles as if anchoring her there.
A current shot straight up her spine and her breath caught in her throat.
His palm was broad. Hard. Calloused in a way that suggested he used his hands for more than just signing documents. His fingers were long - of course they were long. He was tall, built, everything about him scaled larger than life. What the hell did she expect?
It didn't stop her mind from betraying her though. From wondering - vividly, and traitorously - what those hands would feel like elsewhere. At her waist. At her throat. Spanning her hip.
Heat flooded her cheeks, and It took her a full second to realize he'd spoken. "What?" she asked, a little too quickly, almost embarrassed.
Derek's eyes held hers, steady and assessing. "Go easy on the drinks," he said quietly. "If you go too fast, the effect hits harder. Faster. And you won't actually enjoy it."
His voice was low, almost lost beneath the music, but she heard every word. That didn't sound like a terrible idea. Except she didn't want to enjoy it properly. She wanted it to hit hard. To blur edges. To dull awareness. Especially with him this close... with his hand still wrapped around hers like it belonged there.
Her pulse thudded louder. Abruptly, she pulled her hand back, and the contact broke like a snapped wire. She half expected him to look offended with the way she'd withdrawn.
He didn't. But the way his eyes lingered on her, sharp, and attentive, told her he noticed everything. "Are you alright?" he asked.
And damn it, there was real concern in his voice and expression. That almost made it worse. What was she supposed to say? 'No, actually. My relationship is cracking in slow motion and I can't stop reacting to you like my body didn't get the memo that I'm taken.'
Instead, she asked quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You seem tense," he replied," Well, you were the other day when we met, but it seems to be on another level tonight,"
Olivia shook her head, "I'm fine. Thanks."
A lie. Thin and fragile. Derek studied her for a moment longer, like he was debating calling it out. Then he smiled. "Good," he said softly.
He didn't push, and she was thankful for that. The music shifted then - bass heavier, rhythm faster. A popular song exploded through the speakers and cheers rose from different corners of the bar. More people flooded the dance floor, bodies swaying under strobes of gold and crimson light.
"Let's go dance, you guys!" Tessa shouted over the music, already halfway out of the booth.
"Yessss!" Isabella agreed instantly, sliding out beside her.
Olivia forced a smile. Under normal circumstances, she would've followed. Dancing with her girls, losing herself in movement - that had been the plan. But the alcohol was beginning to bloom fully now... warm and heavy in her veins, her head just slightly too light. And Derek's presence next to her felt like standing too close to a live flame.
"I'll join you soon," she told them. "You guys go ahead."
Both Tessa and Isabella paused. Their eyes moved to Derek. Silence.
Derek lifted his hands slightly in mock surrender. "I'll stay here and make sure she's okay."
Tessa's grin widened immediately. Isabella, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes at him in clear warning. Then she turned to Olivia. "We'll give you a few minutes," she said pointedly. "After that, we're coming back to drag you to the dance floor."
Olivia chuckled lightly. "Sure."
"Remember why we came here in the first place, Liv?" Isabella added.
To forget. To loosen up. To stop thinking about Jack. "Yeah," Olivia said. "I remember."
But she suddenly wished that she'd agreed to go with them. She'd assumed Derek would follow them to the dance floor. That was her mistake. From what little she knew of him, Derek Hawthorne didn't follow. He stayed exactly where he wanted to be, and he could be quite persistent as well as charming
Tessa and Isabella disappeared into the crowd, already moving to the music, hands in the air, laughing.
And just like that it was quiet again. Not literally. But between them. Derek leaned back slightly against the booth, one arm draped along the backrest behind her. Not touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat of him at her shoulder.
"You don't look fine," he said after a moment. No teasing this time. No charm. Just quiet certainty.
Olivia stared straight ahead at the dance floor - flashing lights, moving bodies, freedom she suddenly felt excluded from. "I said I was," she replied.
"I don't believe you."
Her jaw tightened as she turned to face him. "Well, I don't care," she told him. "If you're going to sit here with me and bother me, then you should consider taking some shots and staying out of my business because clearly I don't want to talk about it,"
For a second she thought she'd sounded a bit harsh, but she shoved the thought away. She was frustrated with the way she felt around him. For God's sake she knew nothing about this man, except that he was Izzy's brother and that he was nothing like any man she knew. That was obvious at a glance. He was too...intense. Too controlled, in a way that sent alarms ringing through her whole body, straight down into her toes.
Dangerous, that same something in her whispered, and she didn't need danger in her life. All her life she'd avoided men like him who she considered trouble. She preferred safe... And nothing about Derek Hawthorne was safe.
His eyes narrowed, and then to her surprise he laughed, and surprised her once again by reaching for one of those shots.
"Cheers," he said, and emptied the contents into his mouth.
