Chapter 47
Nate told himself he was just going for a drink.
Nothing more.
It had been a long day, and he needed to clear his head. The fact that Elijah happened to be at the same bar was completely irrelevant.
At least, that was what he kept repeating as he pushed open the heavy door of the dimly lit lounge on 8th Street.
Music pulsed low in the background, and the scent of whiskey and leather filled the air. The crowd was a mix of business professionals winding down after work and younger, edgier types looking for trouble.
And Elijah fit in perfectly.
He was leaning against the bar, effortlessly confident, dressed in all black, his sharp jawline illuminated by the glow of the overhead lights. He was nursing a drink, casually scanning the room—until his gaze landed on Nate.
A slow,
