Magical Midlife Love (Leveling Up #4) - K.F. Breene Page 0,68
while ago, but Kingsley had stuck around, getting rid of the extra seat and pulling up closer, still staring. Always staring. I’d mostly ignored it, chatting to Niamh and watching Austin either work the bar or step away to talk with someone or other. His mood had become darker, likely as a result of more bad news. I’d have to ask him about that.
Tomorrow. Everything could wait until tomorrow. Especially now that I was neck-deep in suds and wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes open much longer.
“Yep.” I wobbled a thumbs-up at him. “I miss my son, though. I think he had a really good time, don’t you?”
Austin pushed in closer, his side pressing against mine. I leaned into his comforting warmth.
“Need this seat?” Kingsley half rose, his hand on the back of his chair.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll stand.” Austin swished my hair over my shoulder, seemingly in a playful mood despite whatever he’d learned. Or maybe he was just laughing at me. I hadn’t been this tipsy in a while. “Yes, I do think he had a good time. A great time. He took all of this in…well, almost in stride.”
“I wish he could’ve stayed.”
“He’s becoming a man. He can’t have his mother’s butler coddle him all the time.”
I spat out a laugh.
“What are ye at?” Niamh leaned away, yanking her arm up to ward off my flying saliva.
“Sorry.” I wiped my mouth, leaning harder into Austin because that was the way my body decided to head. I tried to push off with my head, super ladylike, but he curled a hand around my ribcage.
“Those beers are strong,” I murmured, straightening up and trying to get back on track. I rolled my shoulders, shrugging Austin away. He wanted to laugh—I could feel it—but his expression didn’t show the slightest glimmer of humor.
“I thought, with advanced healing, ye’d eventually grow a tolerance.” Niamh rattled the ice in her glass. “Wrong.”
I grimaced. “So it seems.”
“We’re about to do last call,” Austin said. He’d slung a hand over my chair’s back but respected my desire to sway on my own. “Do you want something else, or should I walk you home?”
“She’s no quitter, boy!” Niamh threw back a shot of Jameson. “May as well just finish’r up.”
“Hear, hear.” I leaned heavily against the bar, sagging. Then groaned.
“You should take her home,” Kingsley said.
“It would be a mistake to listen to someone who barely knows me but thinks he should tell me what to do.” I straightened up and reached for the full beer that had magically appeared in front of me. Niamh was good. Or Austin was. I’d stopped paying attention to who was ordering them.
“Ah, but he wasn’t telling you what to do,” Austin said, the humor bleeding into his voice this time. “He was telling me what to do. He thinks he has that right, being my big brother and having done it all of our lives.”
“Sometimes you even listened,” Kingsley replied.
“Not this time, though.” I took another sip. It tasted like water. I was going to regret all of this tomorrow. Maybe not the hangover, since I could probably heal that, but you couldn’t heal regret over acting like a fool. “He would get an awful surprise if he listened to you this time.” I leveled a finger at Kingsley, then drew a circle in the air. When I’d done that earlier, he’d leaned back and crossed his arms, as though greatly debating grabbing my finger and yanking it off. Now he just sat placidly, one hand curled around a bottle of Bud, and the other splayed in his lap. He’d finally realized I was not the threat he’d imagined. “You killed my game earlier today. Or your man did, anyway. I might’ve gotten stabbed this time, okay, fine. But I was nearly there. I would’ve definitely gotten him next time.” I made a stabbing gesture. “I would’ve gotten him right in the back.”
“What’s this now?” Austin asked.
“This is the fifth time she’s berated me for Kace stopping her…game.” Kingsley’s displeasure was evident. “She was about to be stabbed, apparently by design.”
“Ah.” Austin’s gaze roamed the bar, ever watchful.
“You let those sorts of…games happen in the territory?” Kingsley asked.
“That, my dude, is the shifter version of talking trash.” I put my finger to my nose. “I’ve learned a thing or two.”
I chuckled under Kingsley’s hard stare. Niamh outright laughed.
“No,” Austin answered, running his palm across my shoulders gently and down my other arm. “Only Jess gets that privilege.”