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I stand in place, frozen. People walking past me, giving me curious stares. My heart beats a mile a minute. I feel hot and cold all at once.Fuck, is it really her?After all this time? After spending more than a decade fighting to push my memories to the farthest recesses of my mind, but also wishing I get a chance to make amends. When I shake out of my stupor, I take quick strides in the direction she went. The hotel bar.
My heart is about to jump out of my chest. All my sharp instincts rise to the surface. I need to find her. Please, God. Please. I’m not even sure what I’m begging for. A chance to take a good look? Maybe talk to her? Sweep her away and lock her in my place? Fuck her silly, make her round with my babies, and never let her go… Fuck, she’s probably married and has already carried another man’s kids. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I make my way into the elegant bar. All velvet and dark wood upholstery, deep green walls, and a bar that’s a splendid piece of antique. But my eyes see nothing of that. I don’t notice the women smiling coyly in my direction or the men raising their glasses to the Romano walking through one of his properties. My eyes zone in on the incredibly gorgeous woman sitting at the bar. Her glorious curves wrapped in a dark-red dress, shiny black hair loosely curled, falling over her bare shoulders. Her full ass barely fits on the stool. Fuck, that ass! It’s haunted many of my dreams, fantasies, and sleepless nights over the years.
Zina’s posture is just as elegant as I remember, straight back and shoulders. But I can sense tension in the way she’s slightly hunched over the bar-top.
I need to get closer. Need a full look. To hear her voice. Maybe talk to her? Fuck, should I leave her alone? Is this not enough? You’re just gonna fucking hurt her again, Romano. No. Not this time. This time, I’ll talkandlisten. There’s a reason she was brought back into my life.
I make up my mind in a heartbeat. Discreetly sliding behind the bar, I remove my jacket with trembling fingers and hook it to a coat hanger. Then I motion to the barista on duty, and discreetly slide him a wad of crisp bills, giving him the night off. Heart still pounding, hands clammy, but it’s fucking showtime.
PRESENT DAY - Zina
Why did you come here, Zina Washington?The same question keeps bouncing through my mind. I could be home in my pajamas, snuggled into the couch with a smutty romance. But noooo, I had to come. And for what? To feel the burden of my solitude even more? Rub salt over my poor, wounded heart? I’m such a moron.
I came for the same reason I never miss any of these events. Because of him. It’s always because of him. He’s the man I subconsciously look for in a crowd anywhere I am in the world. The voice I listen for. The scent I crave from the depths of my soul. The missing piece in my life I never even really had.
I’m hiding in this five-star hotel bar instead of hanging out with my friends in the reception hall where our college reunion is being held. Pathetic.
I take a sip of my drink, trying to find the courage to rejoin the party. I swirl the liquid in the thick glass, not paying attention to anything around me.
“Hi,” a deep voice rumbles from across the bar.
I sit up straighter. That voice… Could it be…? No. It’s never him. Anywhere. Anytime. Just stupid ghosts escaped from my memories, mocking me. As if I could remember a voice I heard fifteen years ago, for one night.
I sigh deeply before responding, without raising my gaze. “Hi.”
“Rough night?” the barman pushes.
I close my eyes, shaking my head. Fuck, my brain is really playing tricks on me. No one ever sounded this much like Mateo. Maybe I could take him up to my hotel room and keep him all night with the lights turned off? Only allowing him to whisper naughty things in my ear…
I let out a dejected chuckle before answering. “You could say that.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” the man asks, resting his hands flat on the wood in front of me.
They’re big, strong, masculine hands. With thick veins running under his beautiful olive skin, the backs covered in tattoos of flames. Intriguing, dangerous, manly. Fucking sexy.Matt didn’t have tattoos on the backs of his hands, a sneaky voice whispers in my head.
I sigh again. “I’m here for the college reunion.” He hums, signaling he’s listening, encouraging me to keep going. “But instead of hanging out with my friends, I’m hiding here. Like a coward.”
When the silence stretches, he adds, “why are you hiding?”
Fuck. His voice. The way it slides over my skin, wraps itself around my body, vibrates through my chest… Can I just stay here and pretend? Get a permanent room in this hotel? Pay this man to always talk to me while I keep my eyes away?
I take a shaky breath, trying to gather myself, before admitting. “I was hoping to see someone here.”
“Ah,” is his only response. But I notice the word comes out a bit breathy. He’s probably sick of entertaining the crazy patron at his bar.
His beautiful hands still lay flat in front of me. I want to trace his tattoos, entwine our fingers, feel the heat of his skin, its texture… He’s distracting me enough to loosen my tongue further.
“He was someone I met a long time ago. We didn’t part on the best terms, and I always wanted a chance to fix things.”
He says in his deep, rumbly voice, “who says today won’t be your lucky day?”
I nod absently, still not looking up, but appreciating his kind words. I let his low gravel and the vision of his strong hands soothe me. The combination is strangely comforting. Added to the wafts of vetiver and manly musk that emanates from the man.He even smells like Matt!I’m almost scared to look up. This stranger’s presence feels like a quiet, deadly storm. Catching me off-guard and unsuspecting, invading my senses, making me parched with want and need.
“I’m sorry. I’m not always like this,” I apologize lamely.
“It’s okay,” he rumbles, and the vibration of his voice courses through my body like a soothing balm. “We’re all chasing after that special someone.”
