The Red String Between Us Part II: Frayed Threads

第16章 Hokkaido Whiskey

Kenji 

      The burn of whiskey hit harder than I expected, the second glass sliding down faster than the first. I wasn't much of a drinker—not on nights like this, not when appearances mattered. But watching Eden walk into the gala with Harum at her side had rattled something deep in me, and now the edge of it clung to every thought.

Aya leaned into me, her perfume thick, her laughter too loud. Her hand brushed my sleeve for the third time, and I didn't move away. Normally, I would have shut it down politely—Aya's flirtations were nothing new—but tonight I let it linger.

"Kenji, you're unusually quiet tonight," Aya teased, tilting her head so her hair brushed her bare shoulder. "Loosen up. It's a party."

I gave her the ghost of a smile, the whiskey dulling the sharpness in my chest. "Maybe I already have," I muttered, signaling the bartender for another round.

She laughed like I'd made a joke, sliding closer, her hand grazing the edge of my jacket. I didn't push her away. I didn't invite her closer either. I let her orbit me, because for now, it distracted me from the way Harum leaned toward Eden at the dinner table, from the way her parents seemed to welcome him as if they had already known him.

Jealousy had a way of twisting logic. I knew I should've stood taller, brushed Aya off, kept my composure. But the truth was, I wanted Eden to look over and see me with someone else—see me letting another woman cling to my side, see that she wasn't the only one with options.

The third drink went down faster than it should have. A warmth spread through my chest, hazy and unsteady. My jaw clenched as I caught sight of Eden across the room, her smile soft, her hand brushing against Harum's arm as they laughed with her parents.

I wanted it to be me.

And instead of fighting the ache, I tipped the glass back again, letting Aya's presence cover the truth I couldn't admit aloud: I wasn't just jealous. I was furious. Furious that she brought him here. Furious that she hadn't looked at me the way she once did. Furious that for the first time in my life, I felt the lose of something or someone other than a deal.

Aya's voice blurred against the music as she leaned in closer. I didn't care what she was saying. My thoughts were elsewhere—burning, aching, for Eden. She looked beautiful tonight, irresistible, I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I had to eave the table.