“Did you do something to your face?”
I lift my head and blink, then touch my fingers to my face. “I’m hung over. I didn’t have time to…I’m just wearing less makeup.” I stare at him thoughtfully. “You don’t like it?”
He shrugs. “You look different.”
“Different good or different bad?” I’m frowning now.
“Just different.”
I turn back to the window, fishing my sunglasses out of my bag and slipping them on to keep the glare of the sun out of my eyes.
Although being hung over isn’t the best time to make decisions, I know that the man I want to be with wouldn’t have asked another guy to take me back home—drunk—because he wanted to stay and have some more fun on his own. I know that the guy I want will like my hair flat and/or curly and my face with any color I choose to put on it. I know that Trent genuinely likes me but I also know that the guy I want is not flying back in this airplane with me.
Tahoe and I would never work, but that doesn’t mean that Trent deserves a lukewarm relationship like this either.
I also…want more.
So when we get to my apartment, I tell Trent the truth.
That I am utterly and completely confused.
That I want us to work, but that I need some time to think.
We have a big but short Talk—and we decide to take a break for a month or two, to see if we’re really what each other wants.
“Take all the time you need, Gina,” he says confidently, squeezing my hand as he stands at my apartment door. “But I will still call. I’m wooing you so there are no more doubts in your mind.”
MAY
Aside from packing boxes nonstop when I return from spring break, I continue working overtime. I’ll be moving into another apartment for a year, but I’ve still got my eye on buying one for myself. So I spend all my time either working or looking for apartments and also trying to forget all the memories of Tahoe that keep coming back to me from spring break.
Trent has continued calling, and sometimes I agree to see him—on friendly terms and with definitely no hand holding, no kissing, and no sex.
I think he understands that I need to think things through and he’s mostly giving me space, which I appreciate.
One Thursday during our usual cocktail night, I tell Rachel and Wynn in confidence that Trent and I are taking a break and are thinking things through.
“Good for you, Gina,” Rachel says.
I’m actually surprised by how unsurprised they both are.
“We don’t want to see you get hurt again and you need to be sure you’re with THE guy,” Wynn insists.
“Thanks.” I sip my drink, suddenly wondering if, like them, there is even “THE” guy for me out there. “Just please don’t say anything yet, we may actually end up working things out.”
*
Wynn, Emmett and I are clubbing one night and I’m trying to get my mind off work when I spot Tahoe in the club and a prick shoots right through the center of my chest. I haven’t seen him for a while. He hasn’t texted me to invite me to another practice game, and although I know lacrosse is already in season right now, I’ve wondered if there’s another reason he hasn’t invited me. Maybe he simply doesn’t want me to go and watch him anymore. Not after spring break.
Whatever the reason, I’m breathless when I see him winding through the crowd toward me as my group and I try to locate our reserved table.
“Hey, Regina.”
Tahoe’s lips curl tenderly as he looks at me.
“Hey, T-Rex.”
“I could’ve used some of my lucky charm the other day at practice.” His voice lowers as he steps over, a hand in his pocket, the other one covered by a black jacket draped around his forearm. He’s ludicrously sexy. His smile as deadly as the tip of a knife poking into my breast.
“Send me an invite and I’ll do my best.”
He pulls his hand out of his pocket and squeezes my elbow and looks at me with a rueful smile I don’t quite understand.
It seems only a few seconds after we stare at each other that he notices Emmett and Wynn, and I notice Callan and the blonde who might be either Callan or Tahoe’s date. It feels like I’m coming back to Earth and I can almost hear the regret in Tahoe’s voice when he greets my friends.
Callan calls for Tahoe.
The things I’m feeling from seeing Tahoe again are too overwhelming to suppress.
“Would you like to sit with us, Regina?”
My startled brown eyes fly up to find a pair of Nordic blues staring back. I feel like there’s no air inside the room when he’s in it, an unbelievable mix of sophistication and primalness.
I suck in a calming breath, but he’s still big and manly and beautiful and smelling delicious and with that mouth.
As his eyes keep staring into mine, there’s a crack in the shields, and I see an incredible force and power simmering underneath. I suppress a shiver. Breathless, I give him a slight shake of my head. He smiles a sad, rueful smile, and says, “Come over if you change your mind. ’Bye, Regina,” and just like that, he walks away.
A dozen women catch up with him.
*