Page 6 of The Route to You

Closer . . .

Familiar.

Kyle’s brows pulled together just as the bride reached Davy and hugged her.

She turned toward Kyle. He went rigid.

That voice.

That face. Older, more polished. More makeup. But still undeniably gorgeous.

The blonde hair— that’s new.

But the caramel-colored brown eyes? Unforgettable.

Sloan Carrington . . . his high school sweetheart.

The first woman he ever loved.

3

SLOAN

Holy shit.

Kyle?

Sloan’s eyes locked onto the blue-eyed man in the elevator, her heart doing an unhelpful, very dramatic lurch in her chest.

Kyle Winnick?

How is this even possible? Of all the places, of all the weekends, of all the perfectly curated, over-orchestrated moments of her life— now?

“. . . this is my friend, Kyle. He’s my date for the night and for tomorrow,” Davy was saying through the buzzing in her ears. “Kyle, this is Sloan Carrington.”

Sloan tore her gaze from Kyle’s and snapped it back to Davy. She forced a smile. “Oh, this is your date?” she gasped out, immediately hating how high her voice went. “Evan was wondering who you were bringing.”

Davy winked. “Kyle’s a friend from my work.”

Heat crept into Sloan’s face, and she turned back to Kyle. He tilted his head slightly, clearly puzzled and wondering why she hadn’t said anything to indicate she recognized him.

Which she absolutely should have.

All it would take was one sentence. Kyle? Oh my God, I didn’t recognize you! Easy and normal. Believable-ish. He’d changed, after all. Filled out. God, he’d really filled out. He’d always been cute, but now he was very firmly on the hot side of the male spectrum, with broad shoulders, a solid build, and the kind of muscles that even his suit jacket didn’t quite conceal. His hair, which had once been incredibly golden, had darkened to a dark blond that probably still lightened in the sun.

Any second now, she could still fix this.

Instead, she shoved her hand out toward him. “Nice to meet you.”

And there it was.

That flicker in his eyes. Quick and controlled, but unmistakable. Disappointed.

His lips curved in a polite smile anyway, and she caught the hint of that dimple in his cheek—the one that had once absolutely wrecked her at seventeen. She tore her eyes away before her brain could betray her any further.

He shook her hand and the shock of his hand in hers made her nearly jump. “So, you’re the bride,” he said smoothly, stepping out of the elevator. “How do you and Davy know each other?”

“Oh, I actually met Sloan through Evan,” Davy answered before Sloan could find her voice. “At their engagement party.”