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In a black peacoat that goes down to his knees, and light-washed jeans tucked into black boots, if it weren’t for the vividly familiar smile spreading across an even more vividly familiar face…
I probably would’ve looked right over him.
Sure about that?
My heart thumps, mouth drying. Now that I’m looking right at him…no, there’s no fucking way I missed him when I arrived. Either he left, and just showed up again, or he was making sure I didn’t see him.
Someone close to me is saying something, followed by more voices. An arm brushes mine, and then a hand squeezes my bicep.
“We’ll be inside.”
“Um, yeah, I’ll…I’ll be right back,” I hear myself say, and then my feet are carrying me forward.
Way to be obvious.
Eyes bore into me from behind, but I don’t look back to see who they belong to. I only have eyes for what’s in front of me. The chatter fades, and then a door clicks shut, and it’s finally silent, save for the thrashing in my ears and the whooshing of cars passing along nearby streets.
Ivy turns her head at my approach and tilts her head, a knowing sort of smirk twisting her lips. She says something, her mouth moving too quickly for me to try and read.
Whatever it is though has Jeremy stilling.
You’re full of so much shit, I think, fighting a smile.
He knew I was here—knew I spotted him—knew I was coming over. We haven’t known each other for seventeen years for me to miss his little tells when he’s trying to be inconspicuous.
You’ll never be invisible to me.
My boots thud and crunch over the chipped, grimy asphalt of the alley separating our building from the bank.
“Well, look what the smelly bus dragged in,” Ivy says with her usual caustic flare. Her green eyes glint off the streetlamp overhead.
At the reminder of the bus, I spare a quick glance at the road, my steps faltering when I see it’s not there.
Shit. Ken.
He already left. How did I miss that?
Ivy goes to move past me, pausing to brush our arms together. “Welcome back. Be nice, okay?”
I frown, wondering what that’s about. But she’s gone before I can ask her, slipping past me, and into the bar.
A low familiar chuckle has my attention snapping forward.
There, in the flesh, Jeremy Montgomery stands with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and a small smile on his lips, amber eyes twinkling like gemstones in the shadows.
“Reggie and the others got your luggage,” he tells me.
Heart racing, I cock a small grin, “Yeah?”
His throat bobs, and he nods. “Yeah, you looked a little busy.”
My eyes move all over his face, devouring every inch of him, cataloging each feature. His warm eyes, and tawny lashes. His flushed, windswept cheeks. His full pink lips. His smooth jaw, and almost delicate neck. Through the gap in his coat, I can make out what looks to be a gray cashmere sweater.
“You’re here,” I say, my voice cracking.
So much for playing it cool.
His eyes flare, glassing over with some undefinable emotion that has the pulse in my neck flying so fast I don’t know how I haven’t fainted yet.
