Bittersweet Expectations (Hate at First Flight #0.5)

19. Being Unconcerned

He poured himself a glass before he downed it, his eyes fixed on mine the entire time. "So you won't mind if I just stay here the whole night, drinking this entire bottle?"

I looked at the almost full bottle of rum and knew that given how intoxicated he already was, it could almost be dangerous if he planned on finishing that.

I looked at him once more, he studied me with a smirk that almost looked daring. Feeling like he was cornering me, I shrugged, "Like I said, what you do with your personal life doesn't concern me."

Ethan Clarke let out a low chuckle before he nodded and poured himself another glass before downing it in the next second.

No matter how much he annoyed me, I felt a wave of concern rush through me.

Was he really planning on finishing the entire bottle? What exactly made him behave this way? A failed business deal? A financial loss? Or maybe even a broken heart?

"Leave then," he said, his voice demanding and at the same time broken.

"What?"

He looked at me with a look of frustration. "Didn't you say you don't care? Why are you still here?"

I shrugged, not knowing why I didn't take his direction and leave him.

Was it because I knew that as a human being, I shouldn't leave something clearly distressed alone at a time like this? Was it because I knew that if I left, it could almost be dangerous for him?

I walked over to him and sat down on the bar stool two away from him.

His brows hooded over his eyes as he stared at me. "What are you doing?"

With a look of confidence, I reached over and grabbed my plate of forgotten steak. "Having my dinner. You interrupted me while I was having my dinner. I'm just finishing it up."

He kept watching me as I sliced into the steak, forked the piece and ate it.

"Stop staring down much. You'll burn a hole through me."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"What are you talking about? I already said I'm eating my dinner."

After a couple of seconds of silence, Ethan Clarke nodded slowly before he poured himself another shot and downed it.

We settled into a tense silence, the sound of fork and knife cutting into the steak and rum being poured the only thing that could be heard.

I wasn't really one for silence. "What happened today? Business deal fell through?"

For a couple of minutes, it didn't seem like Ethan Clarke had heard me because he kept staring at the rum in front of him, but after awhile, he spoke. "Didn't you say that you weren't interested in my personal life?"

I shrugged. "It clearly looks like you need someone to talk to right now. And I'm not really the type to like unending silence." I cut into the steak again before I placed the knife and fork on the plate. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Again, he didn't say a word. A coupe of minutes passed before he finally spoke again. "I ran into someone today that I didn't want to see. That's all."

"An ex?"

His eyes tore off of the bottle of rum and fixated on me. "Why do you assume it's an ex?"

"Because you look like a drunk that's been run over and bathed in a vat of liquor, you tell me."

He chuckled lightly as he played with the shot glass. "I do smell like a liquor store, don't I?"

I shrugged at him.