She paused before turning back to face Bryce. She handed him the drink.
Bryce put his fingers over hers. Honey stared wide-eyed at his hand caressing hers. He was going to make her spill again.
Red wine sloshed over the edge of the glass, running over their fingers like thin blood. Honey, tipsy, giggled.
Bryce said nothing, tossed a cloth napkin at her and stood. “We’re leaving. Now.” he growled out the last word. Making it clear to Honey there was to be no arguing. She forlornly looked at her half eaten dinner and wondered what she had done this time.
Honey snatched her hand away from his touch. Away from the bad memories.