Rivals

Chapter 28

"Silk & Diamonds"

     The lurking smell of alcohol inevitably swirls within the warm air of this place. I don't particularly like the smell, never have.

But the Bar and Grill on Sixth Street is still being investigated from the gunfire outbreak two nights ago. This one is the nearest bar in the city. And I need a drink.

I run a tired hand through the blonde waves on my head. A heavy breath breaks from between my lips. Before me, on the serving bar's oaky surface, sits a glass of bourbon on the rocks. Untouched.

I've never tried bourbon. I feel like I won't like it too much - but I heard it was decently strong. And as bitter as it is to think, I just need to take my mind off of what happened yesterday.

It was suppose to be a good afternoon, a peaceful day with Vince. But in the end, all I thought over was the fact that Vince and I can't last. Because of me.

Because of how my life is now - and who is now in it.

Soft indie music fluxes in the background from the scattered speakers on the ceiling of this unfamiliar bar. It's soothing.

Glancing down to the glass in front of me, I gently brush my finger against the glass's smooth rim.

I bite my lip.

Here goes nothing.

But just as I prepare to lift the glass, there's easy shuffling next to me, as someone claims the vacant barstool to my right.

There's silence, a still moment. And I pause. Probably because I recognize the light and engulfing cologne.

I fix my gaze ahead, not meeting his eyes.

"You gonna drink that or should I?" Rio starts - his familiarly smooth tone causing for my lips to purse into a thin line.

I look down to the untouched bourbon again.

"No thanks, I think I've got it from here." I respond; slightly stern. Yet I only find myself tracing the smooth rim again.

I hear Rio smirk beside me. "Bourbon on the rocks," he says huskily, clearly observant. "that's new."

I finally look over to meet his dark brown eyes. His eyes are blazing mischievously. It doesn't surprise me.

A brief furrow looms over my brows. "What, all of a sudden you know my usual?" I question him, perching up a challenging brow.

And in return, a smug grin begins playing about on Rio's full lips. Our gazes don't tear from one another's, not yet.

"Can I get a Cape Hatterus, sweet red, please?" Rio asks the bartender, watching me before deliberately biting his lip, and lazily carrying his gaze to the bartender already preparing the drink.

Remaining seated next to the gang leader, surprised by his inevitable memory - that's sparked with a pinch of attentive charm - I let silence overtake again.

I clear my throat, reverting my gaze back to the bourbon before me.

"Whatever the reason is as to why you came here of all places," Rio remarks, "that won't do the trick." he points to the glass of bourbon beneath my fingertips.

"A friend of mine once told me that people should go for what they love," he adds on - and I instantly know he's referring to my own words. "So go for that favorite wine of yours I just ordered, Detective."