Chapter 7: Bistro Tensions
Dappled sunlight fell through the thick ivy overhead, casting a lattice of shadow and gold across the wrought-iron table. Jade’s finger traced the rim of her champagne flute, watching a stray bubble rise and pop in the pale orange liquid. The clatter of dishes from inside the bistro felt a thousand miles away. Addison hadn’t touched her eggs Benedict. She was leaning so far forward her chin nearly rested on her clasped hands, her blue eyes wide and unblinking.
“Okay, rewind,” she said, her voice a hushed, urgent thing. “You were on your balcony.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Jade confirmed, the memory of the cool night air on her skin feeling more real than the warm sun on her shoulders now. “It was maybe two in the morning. I was just… staring at the city lights, thinking this whole move was a beautiful, terrifying mistake.”
Liliana listened, her posture calm and analytical as she stirred a single sugar cube into her espresso.
“Then I heard this scrape of metal above me,” Jade continued, her voice dropping. “I look up, and there’s Cole, climbing down the fire escape from his apartment. Like it was a jungle gym. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, dangling it by the neck.”
Addison’s painted lips parted in a silent ‘oh.’
“He just… dropped down onto my little balcony rail like some kind of cat-burglar, grinning like he’d found the best secret in the world.” She could still see his silhouette against the sodium-vapor glow of the street. “He holds out the bottle and says, ‘Medicine for that.’”
Jade took a sip of her mimosa, the sweet bite of it a poor substitute for the smoky burn of that whiskey. “We stood out there, on the cold metal grate, passing the bottle back and forth. Not saying much. Just… watching the sky lighten. It was peaceful, in a weird way.”
“Until?” Liliana prompted gently, her first word in minutes.
Jade’s throat tightened. “Until I heard a motorcycle rev from the parking lot blow us. It was Dex.”
The memory was a cold finger down her spine. She described leaning over the railing, the dizzying drop, and there, in the shadowy parking lot below, the unmistakable shape of Dex on his motorcycle. The dull chrome gleam of his helmet as he looked up.
“He told me to come down,” Jade said, her fingers tightening on the stem of her glass. “Said, ‘Either come down or stop teasing, princess.’ so I told him I wasn’t going down there. He can either leave or come up.”
“He called you princess?” Addison breathed, her fork forgotten.
Liliana was hanging on every syllable. “So Cole’s on the balcony with a bottle, and Dex is coming up the stairs. My god.”
“So I opened the door,” Jade said, the words tasting of flat champagne and regret.
“He walked past me,” Jade continued, watching a leaf drift onto their untouched bread basket. “And then Cole just… opened the patio door and strolled in like he owned the place.”
“Cole said we should play a game,” Jade murmured. “A game of questions. A shot for every answer. Two if you refuse.” She remembered the sharp, medicinal taste blooming on her tongue with each sip, the room softening at the edges.
Liliana’s espresso spoon stilled mid-stir. “A game with stakes,” she noted, her voice a low hum of intrigue.
Addison’s sharp inhale was audible. Liliana’s eyebrows lifted a fraction.
“After Dex left, Cole was going to kiss me.” Jade’s glass clicked softly against the table. “I didn’t get a chance to answer,” she said, the words tumbling out now. “The front door exploded open.”
It happened again in her mind’s eye: the violent crack of splitting wood, the frame shuddering. Dex filled the doorway, backlit by the hall’s sickly light, his leather jacket smelling of night wind and exhaust. His eyes, dark and furious, locked onto Cole.
“Cole, caught off-balance and whiskey-slowed, offered a slurred, before Dex yanked him forward. The momentum sent them stumbling into the hallway. Then Dex swung the broken door shut on its ruined hinges.”
“Holy shit,” Addison breathed, her mimosa glass hovering forgotten halfway to her lips. She blinked, her gaze darting between Jade’s tense expression and Liliana’s composed but intently focused face as if checking for confirmation of the insanity she’d just heard. “He broke down your door? With his hands?”
“more like a full body shove. The door wasn’t even locked. He could have just opened it instead of being fucking dramatic.” Jade sighed.
Liliana set her espresso cup down with a soft, precise click, her dark eyes narrowing slightly as she processed the information.
“That’s not a game,” she said, her voice measured but carrying an edge of concern that cut through the patio’s sunny ambiance. She leaned forward, her forearms resting on the wrought-iron table. “What did you do?”
Jade opened her mouth to answer, to describe the awful, resonant silence that had filled her apartment after the door slammed, but the words died in her throat.
A cool shadow fell across their table, blotting out the dappled sunlight.
Jade felt the shift in the air before she saw him—a sudden stillness that had nothing to do with the breeze. Addison’s eyes widened, flicking over Jade’s shoulder, and Liliana’s posture straightened subtly into one of guarded assessment. Jade turned slowly, the hairs on her arms rising.
Dex stood just outside the bistro’s entrance, his silhouette framed by the dark interior. He was still in his leathers, a sharp contrast to the bright, gossiping patrons around him. His gloved hands were flexing slowly at his sides, and his gaze, a smoldering intensity fixed directly on their table, held none of the morning’s conflicted rage. This was something colder, more deliberate.
He was watching her, and he had been for some time.
The breath left Jade’s lungs in a quiet rush. Across the patio, Dex’s eyes held hers, a silent current pulling taut between them. He took a single, deliberate step forward.
“Oh my god, is that him?” Addison whispered, her voice a sharp, thrilled hiss. She followed Jade’s frozen gaze, her manicured nails digging into Jade’s wrist under the table. “The door-smashing one? He’s even bigger in the daylight.”
Liliana observed the exchange, her intelligent eyes missing nothing. She took a slow sip of her espresso, her gaze calculating. “He doesn’t look like he’s here for brunch.”
“Forget the door,” Addison breathed, her previous shock morphing into giddy, reckless excitement. She squeezed Jade’s wrist harder, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper meant only for their table. “Okay, screw the mimosas. Real talk. Which one? The possessive caveman or the whiskey-smuggling cat burglar?” A wild grin spread across her face. “Wait, no. Don’t answer that. You should fuck them both. At the same time.”
Liliana’s mimosa cup hit its table with a sharp clink. Her composed facade cracked, replaced by wide-eyed, stunned disbelief. A deep, unexpected blush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks. “Addison!” she gasped, her voice a mixture of admonishment and sheer shock.
Jade barely registered their reactions. Dex was moving, his path a straight line through the scattered tables. The gentle clatter of dishes, the murmur of other conversations, it all faded into a distant hum. Her skin prickled with a heat that had nothing to do with the sun.
He stopped at their table, his shadow enveloping them. The scent of leather and crisp autumn air washed over Jade, overwhelming the smell of pastries and coffee. He ignored Addison and Liliana completely, his focus absolute.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice a low gravel that left no room for argument.
The sound of her own heartbeat filled her ears, a frantic drum against the sudden quiet. Jade forced her hand to lift her mimosa glass, taking a slow, deliberate sip to wet her parched throat. She met his unblinking stare over the rim of the flute, the citrus fizz doing nothing to calm the tremor in her fingers.
“Dex,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “Are you following me?” She gestured vaguely at Addison and Liliana with her glass. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Addison kicked Jade’s ankle under the table, a sharp, eager tap. “Oh my god, go talk to him,” she hissed, her stage whisper carrying further than she intended. A wide, conspiratorial grin spread across her face as she mouthed the words, “Get. Laid.”
Liliana pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a soft, suffering sigh.
A muscle ticked in Dex’s jaw, a slight, rhythmic flex beneath the dark stubble. His gaze never wavered from Jade’s face, ignoring the commentary as if it were static. “It’s important,” he said, the gravel in his voice grinding softer, almost private.
“Important like my front door was important?” Jade asked, her earlier anger simmering back to the surface. She set her glass down hard enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim, a pale droplet racing down the side. “You don’t get to break things and then demand conversations.”
He absorbed the hit, his expression not flinching. “I fixed the door.”
“After you broke it.”
The silence between them thickened, charged with the memory of splintering wood and whiskey fumes. He didn’t blink. “You didn’t answer my question,” she finally said, her voice lower. “Are you following me?”
“Yes.” The admission was blunt, stripped of all pretext. His eyes, the color of a rain-slicked street, held a dark intensity that made her stomach flip.
Addison kicked her ankle again, harder this time. “For fuck’s sake, Jade, go,” she stage-whispered, her champagne-induced bravery on full display. She made a shooing motion with her perfectly manicured hand. “Take your volcanic mountain man for a walk and work this out. We’ll get the check.”
A flutter, warm and unwelcome, pulsed low in Jade’s belly. It was the way he owned his answer, the sheer physicality of him blocking out the sun. She felt a treacherous heat creep up her neck.
“Fine,” she heard herself say, the word leaving her lips before her mind could protest. She stood, her knees subtly unsteady. Dex didn’t move, forcing her to brush against his leather-clad arm as she stepped away from the table.
The contact was electric, a brief shock of warmth and restraint. She walked, not looking back, feeling his presence fall into step behind her like a shadow.