The Brick Wall

Chapter 44

Collins POV

"Not a chance in hell."

Normally I'd probably laugh at the choice of words. I mean, it's not like there are chances in hell. I mean, you're sent there for your choices on earth, no way are you going to get to have any more options once you're damned to Satan's house.

But the darkening of his bright blue eyes, looking more like a stormy sea has my pulse picking up. It's not the angry expression the last time his eyes darkened. No, this is definitely not angry Curtis. Could this be lustful Curtis? It does resemble him a bit from Christmas Eve.

His glance lingers over my collar bone, bare with the exception of the necklace he and Lennox gifted me just a week earlier for Christmas. I don't realize my fingers are fiddling with it until he speaks. "You okay?"

I swear I swallow so hard that the gulp could be heard through the rowdy bar, but no heads turn in our direction. I give a little nod, making myself drop my hand back by my side. "I'm good, you good?" I stutter out.

He finally looks back up at my face, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Never better."

If I met a random guy at a bar, or a coffee shop, or anywhere really and he spouted off that line I'd roll my eyes and call him out on his cheese factor. But with Curtis? There's something in the tone of his voice and the way he stands that I feel like he's probably telling me the truth, no artery clogging cheese to be found.

I'm gonna be swallowing down a lot of shaky breaths tonight.

Curtis nods his head over towards the bar, making me turn away from him. His hand goes to the small of my back once more for just a moment before he's sliding it further towards the side finding my hip and pulling me closer into his side. His feet start moving, my own going right along with him.

"It's an open bar so you can have whatever you'd like. The GM apparently does this each year when a game falls on the same day. One of the guys said the last time they had a game on New Year's Eve they lost and everyone drowned their sorrows in top shelf tequila. The rule now is that they'll only allow the best if we win," he tells me as we saddle up to the bar. He leans one elbow onto the bar top, turning his body towards my own. "Lucky for you, we wont today. So, what'll it be?"

"Vodka cranberry," I answer with ease. "Minus the vodka and double the cranberry."

The sultry look he'd been giving me just moments earlier wanes, replaced by confusion and the goofiest little grin. "What?"

Suddenly my dark red painted nails are the most intriguing thing I've ever seen, my eyes finding the tiniest chip on the head of my left pinky. "The music is really great," I toss in, changing the subject. "Okay, I'm lying. How can a sports bar really play something like Nickelback? I mean, I know they were huge in the early 2000s, but not with this type of crowd, right? Most of y'all were like babies then, right?"

Curtis cocks a brow at me. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?" He nods slowly while his grin only grows. "Well, maybe you weren't a baby, but definitely a little kid. I was the baby in the early 2000s, I know, but-"

"You sure you don't want something to go with the cranberry juice?" Curtis is offering up a way for me to relax, and I really want to take it. But, a promise is a promise, even if I'm the only one who would know if I broke it.

"Nope, just the cranberry juice." My nails now tap against the glossy finish of the bar, that is until Curtis' hand covers my own before lifting it to his lips. He glances at me briefly while he does so, as though he's trying to get a read on me. "Promise."

"Cranberry it is then," he agrees, his focus shifting to the woman on the other side of the counter. "Two cranberries," he pauses, "ice or no ice?"

"Ice for me, but you don't have to not drink just because I'm not. You should be able to let loose, I mean you played another incredible game. Live it up."