Man of Honor (Battle Scars #3) - Diana Gardin Page 0,5

his eyes burning into me as I chat and refill drinks. When Lenny returns, I take the opportunity to head for the front door. A quick breather is all I need. A chance to catch my breath and gather my thoughts.

For just a minute, I need to be as far away from Drake fucking Sullivan as possible.

The night drags by. Despite my best intentions to keep my head down, serve my tables, and get through the night without snatching the blonde off her barstool or elbowing Drake off of his, my eyes continue to track their movements from wherever I am in the restaurant. Drake’s been different than his usual self—he seems almost down in the dumps—oblivious to everything, including the blonde for the most part. I can tell from the time she’s invested in him that she thinks he’s taking her home tonight. But, watching Drake way more closely than I should, I’m not so sure he’s on the same game plan as she is.

He accepts her attention, but he doesn’t dish out any of his own. Mostly, Drake’s eyes are trained on the drinks that he keeps slugging down like they’re going out of style.

Except for the occasions I can feel their searing gaze on me.

Blondie’s getting impatient with his lack of attention despite all her efforts.

A small smile quirks at my lips when she literally begins to pout. That’s the moment when Drake decides to glance up from his drink. His dark gaze nails me to the spot, instantly freezing my movements as I’m caught up in his stare.

Do you know that expression time stands still? You know, the one they only use in chick flicks and romance novels?

Yeah, I now understand what it means. It doesn’t mean that the second hand on your watch stops ticking. It doesn’t mean that everyone around you pauses, grotesquely frozen in whatever activity they were engaging in. No, it’s not like that at all.

When time stands still for me at that moment, it happens because Drake’s gaze meets mine, and the intensity of it as recognition dawns on his face levels me. Flattens me. Roots me to the spot where I stand. And even though everyone and everything continue their normal goings-on around us, the thread that holds us together at that moment stretches taut, and I can’t tell how much time passes.

Do seconds tick by? Minutes? An hour?

Hell if I know.

Drake’s previously watery gaze sharpens in that moment, perfect clarity reflecting in his eyes. Awareness sizzles along my skin, tracing the path that my nerve endings draw, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about the effect he’s having on me.

Not a damn thing.

I hold my ground. Neither of us moves a muscle for at least ten seconds, and I have the uncontrollable urge to move toward him. He blinks, and I take that moment to flee. I don’t want him to see me so unraveled. I don’t want him to know that seeing him liquefies my insides, turning me into mush. Escaping through the high-top tables in the bar area and around the long wooden high-top where Lenny is filling a glass with something dark and frothy, the kitchen door swishes shut behind me and I lean against the wall. My chest rises and falls with my heavy breaths, and there’s only one thought running through my mind at top speed.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

Because if I’m honest with myself—and it’s not very often that I allow that to happen, not when it comes to this—Drake Sullivan has had this effect on me since the moment I laid eyes on his gorgeous self. And I’ve never been able to stop it.

Ignore it? Yes. I can ignore it with the best of them.

But stop it from happening? Never. And I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t have the first clue as to how he affects me.

I intend to keep it that way.

I need to keep my eye on the prize. And that prize has nothing to do with a sexy, deliciously dark man like Drake.

3

Drake

The back of my neck prickles.

I rub it, trying to ease the sensation out of my muscles, but it’s surface level. I learned a long time ago to trust my instincts, because not doing so could get me, and the entire team of men around me, killed. So instead of ignoring the feeling, I lift my eyes from my highball glass to glance around the bar area. It’s easy to find her. I’ve been keeping