After his most recent statement, Keiran reached for the beer that had been set in front of him, fully intending to take the largest gulp he could manage, perhaps even chug the whole thing. Until, he realized, that there was no pain to numb with drink, not right now. He set the full beer back on the table.
Maybe Jackson's worrying had just affected him after all.
Relaxing back into the corner of his booth once more, Keiran ran a hand through his short hair, absently considering why he cared about the bouncer as much as he did. Even though he longed to be hurt that Jackson seemed to care about this “Ginny” as much as him, he couldn't... he was just happy that Jackson was here at all.
Instead of being serious like Jackson, Keiran put on the fiercest of pouts, looking across the table at Jackson like the man had said something that had deeply offended him. “You aren't attracted to me?” He complained rather loudly, knowing and taking pleasure in the fact that this would fluster Jackson, especially if someone heard the bartender whining.
It wasn't really that shocking that Jackson felt more whole when he was around, why else would he have accepted such a crappy paying job with a jerk boss in a run down bar? They should have been questioning the journals, an how if Keiran wrote in his, Jackson would be able to read it in his own...