Page 118 of Under Pressure

“So what happened?”

“Maybe that’s what scared her off. Being happy with me,” I mutter, thinking back to those few nights.

The memory of her body beneath mine and her hands tracing shapes and letters on my skin in the dark has taken over my sleepless nights. I hear her soft voice telling me how handsome I am and feel the ghost of her face against my neck when she’d nuzzle into me, finding the same sense of peace in my arms that I felt holding her in them. Her soft, warm eyes looking up at me every time I’d bring her a cup of tea, and we’d sit on the couch together and debrief our days.

I rub my thigh, struggling to break free of the flashbacks in my mind.

I’d do anything to stand across from her at Blank Page and watch her roll her eyes while making me a drink she knew I’d hate. That was where it all started, and tonight, I’d give anythingto go back there so that I wouldn’t know what it feels like to lose her yet.

“What’s the shit they say about letting someone go, and if they come back, they’re yours?” Kellan asks bluntly.

“That’s the worst advice. She’s not a bird.”

“I don’t know shit about keeping a woman, bro. Everyone I ever wanted has chosen someone else over me. So, if you want better advice, you’ll need to ask Finn or Rome. Even Jett. The guy has a kid, after all.”

I release my beer and fold my arm over his to smack his back. Some of the tightness inside me releases.

“The only thing I need you to do is tell me not to run to her when she gets here. Because if I do, I’ll?—”

“You’re not going anywhere. I might know shit about relationships, but I do know that you’ve already been the one to chase her. If she wants you the way she’d be stupid not to, then it’s her turn.”

I give him a jerky nod at the same time a breeze that doesn’t feel this cold nips at my skin. The scent of exhaust and the Italian restaurant fills the bar. There’s no stopping the way I search for her. My gaze is strained as I focus on the entrance and listen for her.

“A little help, please!”

Aubrey and Brielle go to her while I remain on my ass. A heavy sense of wrongness weighs me down before Kellan’s hand on my shoulder does.

Red hair fills my vision. My hands tingle, warm with the need to take the thick strands between my fingers and bury my face in it. I shift on my seat, feasting on the sight of her after days without. Light-wash jeans hug her soft thighs, and the long-sleeve shirt she’s pushed up her forearms is pulled tight across her chest. My teeth find the inside of my cheek again. I stabilize my heavy breathing.

The other women take the giant tray from her and deposit it elsewhere. Quinn tugs on the hem of her shirt and pulls it overher belt. She hasn’t looked around for me yet. Kellan squeezes me once, having realized the same thing.

“You should have called and told me you were here! We’d have gone out to help you,” Brielle rambles.

“You must be Quinn,” Roman says from his fiancée’s side.

She puts her hand in his, shaking it. My brain knows they’re only greeting each other, but the rest of me revolts at the sight, wishing it were me she was touching. And when she smiles at him?

I almost shake Kellan off.

“That’s me. And I’m assuming you’re the groom?”

“Soon-to-be,” Brielle says, touching Roman in a way that’s obviously her staking a claim.

It seems like a natural impulse. One that I can relate to. She knows Quinn isn’t interested in him. I only wish everyone here knew with confidence that she wants me instead.

“That’s me.”

“I’m sorry for being late. There was a rush at the café as I was on my way out, and I’d already sent my barista home.”

“You’re right on time, actually. Do you want to stay for the rest of the party?” Brielle asks eagerly.

Panicked blue-grey eyes finally scour the bar. The second they fall on me, I lose the ability to breathe. I meet her gaze and let her see everything I’m feeling. The absolute need and deep-rooted ache. How badly I want to call her forward and pull her into my lap, keeping her there forever.

I hate that I have to blink, because once I do, she looks away again. The loss of her presence is instant, reality pushing back in.

“I appreciate the invite, but I’ve had a long day. I’d love some pictures of everything after, though.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as we have them,” Aubrey tells her.