“Two weeks ago,” she huffs angrily. “I didn’t tell you because I was sure he’d come to his senses.”
“He will. He has to. You two make sense. He’s usually so levelheaded.”
“It’s that little tramp from his past! Waving her tiny natural tits at him! I’m telling you, since she appeared, he’s been different. It’s like he no longer cares about business.”
He cares about mine, I want to contradict. And I’m not a tramp waving my tits!
She seems to sense me and turns.
“I’d like to use the ladies’, if you don’t mind,” I say, as calmly as possible, pointing at the door.
She looks down her nose at me and brushes past. “If you think you can keep the interest of a man as worldly as Christos…” she warns.
I swallow and head into the ladies’, shut and lock the door, and then stare down at the sink, completely forgetting why I’m here.
They broke up. Two weeks ago?
When was it?!
Before he kissed me…
Before…or maybe after…the night he walked me home, when I was drunk out of my mind?
I can’t breathe right. I try to tell myself that it doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going to get involved in anything.
Are we?
By the time I head out, the room is more crowded than when I arrived, and as I scan the crowd for Jensen—I see him. Aaric.
Looking straight at me.
My knees wobble. The possessiveness in his stare makes me think that this man hasn’t forgotten the night I spent at his place either.
There’s a tightening between my legs, an uncomfortable feeling. I squirm and shift to get away from his stare.
“He’s Aaric Christos.”
“Hmm.”
Jensen is at my side, amused. “The guy you’re staring at—hell, the guy staring at you. He clearly means to have you in his bed sooner than you can say Aaric!”
“Hush. It’s not like that.” I laugh, moving away.
“Well…he definitely wants it to be like that. He seems to dig you very much.” He forces me to turn, and he’s still with a group of men—and he’s still looking at me with those penetrating eyes that are basically stripping me of every scrap of clothing I’m wearing.
He’s smiling this time. Though I’m not sure you could consider that a smile, not even a smirk, it’s too subtle for that. Just a slight curving at one corner of his lips—as if he’s already doing things to me in his mind.
There’s a silence as he approaches, and for a second all I can hear is the roaring sound the harsh pounding of my heart is making in my eardrums.
I turn to leave, determined not to make a fool of myself in front of his snotty ex-girlfriend.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave just yet.”
I raise my brows, as he looks at Jensen with a nod of greeting, then reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder.
“You just stand there and take up the entire room,” he says, close to my ear.
“That’s in your mind.”
“My mind is my whole world.”
“Christos.” I flush heatedly.
He shoots me a devil’s look, and quivering, I edge free and meet his gaze. “I’m not sure I’m welcome here. I’m pretty sure your girlfriend would like to have me shot. I should—”
“You’re not leaving.”
“I am.”
He frowns, glancing at the windows, starting to get wet with rain. “It’s pouring outside, bit.”
“So?”
“So that’s not the kind of wet I wanted to get you,” he says with a smirk.
He slides his hand to the small of my back and draws me into the crowd, and I’m rethinking this whole night. “Mingle for a while. I’ll find you later tonight. Take you home.”
I gulp and nod, confused about what I just learned. Jensen leans into my ear. “Aaric Christos told you he’d find you. Girl, there’ll be no place to hide.”
“Jensen!”
Aaric is across the room, yet it’s a constant struggle to ignore his large, strong hands resting at his sides. My body quivers with wanting to feel them on my skin.
I think of the way we curled together and my blood boils in my veins.
Yael asks me about House of Sass and I try to keep up with the conversation, but Aaric is staring at me.
“I’m interested in working with you,” I say. “I respect the fact that you need to get…well, a little…” I give him a look. “To reach your creative nirvana.”
He laughs. “I like this girl!” he tells Jensen, and Jensen says, “I like her too.”
“Jensen, really.” I shoot him a look, then decide I’ve been here long enough.
I don’t want to be rude to Christos, so I approach his group to say my goodbye, aware of him watching every step I take in his direction.
“I’m leaving.”
“I’ll take you home.”
I start saying no. It’s raining. We’ll be getting wet.
“We can talk business,” he says. His lips curving.
And I say, yes.
“I ended it before last weekend.”
We’re riding in the back of his car, toward his place. I hold my breath at his words.
“Before we were even in the socials section. She hasn’t spread the word out, thinking it’s salvageable,” he adds.
“Why. Why did you break up?”
“Because you changed everything.”
“We can’t…I’ve been misleading you. It’s not possible. We’re in business.”
“You want me.”
“I…”
His eyes twinkle. “It’s okay. I want you too.”
“It’s not easy for me. I don’t know why.”
He narrows his eyes as he looks at me. “It started making sense to me, that you feel safer if I’m unavailable. You won’t have any expectations and I won’t have any of you. But see…that’s not the way I envisioned you and I would go.”
“There is no you and I. We’ve had some close calls but—”
“There’s always been a you and I. Except only you and I know it. Only you and I know all the touches that never happened. All the kisses we never took. All the damned dances I didn’t dance with you.”
I look away, unable to fully grasp what this all means.
We end up heading to his place, and all the time I’m telling myself I can have him. He’s available, and he’s looking at me like…like he’s still interested.
“You son of a bitch! You lied to me,” I finally say when we arrive and sit down in his living room, the truth of everything hitting me.
“I let you believe what you wanted.”
“For how fucking long?”
“Two weeks. I would’ve told you sooner if I didn’t have the eerie suspicion that you like the idea of me being taken, that you feel safer around me believing I’m not making a move on you.” His eyes sparkle devilishly.
I’m shocked and already fired up by the first sentence. “Two weeks! I’ve been driving myself up the wall trying not to…”
He laughs and touches my ear. I feel tickles all over me.
“You think too much, and do too little,” he rasps.
“You do too much and think too little of the consequences.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“You. Everything blowing up in my face.”
“That’s not happening. But I want you blowing up in my face. Would you let me taste you, Bryn? Huh? If we went for it, would you let me finally taste you?”