RONAN
The whiskey hit different after good s*x.
I leaned back in my chair, legs stretched under the table, one arm hanging loose over the backrest.
The bar had thinned out significantly since Kade left….a few stragglers hunched over their drinks at the counter, the bartender wiping glasses with the mechanical efficiency of someone who'd done it ten thousand times.
My ruined grey henley was gone. I'd borrowed a plain white shirt from Kade before he left—too broad across the shoulders for me, hanging slightly loose in a way that somehow felt intimate. Like wearing proof of what happened. His leather jacket had disappeared with him out the door, replaced by that tight expression he got when duty dragged him back to reality.
I was on my third whiskey. Then Declan's name drifted through m
