He followed Lucien because he didn't want to start something. He had hoped, clearly in vain, that this surprise meeting wouldn't turn into a confrontation. He glanced at Evangeline as they passed her and the younger girl, and he stole a peek at the younger girl's hand. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He suspected Evangeline was letting the girl win. There was a kindness in that, a bright light, and that was what drew him to her.
The hell with Lucien; he wouldn't back down from this - from her. He wouldn't walk away. Somehow, he'd make everything work, and if that meant snapping his brother's neck, he would. But that was a last resort. There was still love between them, he thought. He hoped. But he would do what it took to stay with Evangeline.
Accepting the glass, Solomon set it on the counter, not interested in the buzz. Oh, one glass wouldn't hurt, but he wanted to be as clear-headed as possible. There were eggshells all over the floor, and he didn't want to step on one and start a fight that would bring the apartment down around their ears. Funny. That would have been the amusement five years ago. Now it was a fear.
With a laugh, Solomon leaned against the counter, casually lounging as his eyes slid over the room. "I am. I've had plenty of rest." There was a slight accusation in his tone, but only slight. Mild. Don't start a fight, he told himself. Don't turn this into a battle. "And you. You look well. This world has been good to you, too." Picking up the glass, he rolled it between his hands, warming the scotch but not drinking it.