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“That was a rebound, and we all knew it then. Declan had been after you for ages and took his chance on you, knowing you were newly single, vulnerable, and wouldn’t stay that way for long. Just a shame for you he knocked you up and you had to stay with him.” It sounds like a real asshole thing to say, but the sympathy he has in his voice saves him. He was a good friend of mine at the time and now he is practically family, so I let it slide with just an eye roll.
He might be right, but like he’s one to talk about the past after what he and my sister went through. “Guess we all made mistakes when we were younger,” I say pointedly. Cause I might not know the whole story of what happened with him and my sister Cassie, but I’m pretty sure hismistaketrumps mine.
“Touché.” He grins, knowing I have him. Shit got real for him and Cassie this past year, but they’re all loved up and happy now. Makes me wonder if I will ever get so lucky. I was the first one of my sisters to settle down and get married and have children, but that’s not surprising. I’m the oldest of the four of us, but I was also the first to have their life completely fall apart and their marriage over. I pray my sisters will never have to go through the shit I have in the last few years.
My line of sight travels back to Heath, and I watch him interact with the fawning women around him. He’s in his element, so confident, lapping up the attention like a pro. I guess he must be used to it. He smiles in that cheeky way I used to love so much and laughs at something one of them says. The perfect entertainer. He was made to perform, and I’m glad his life turned out so well for him. Every time I hear something about him on the radio or read about him in the entertainment magazines my assistant Summer leaves in my lunch room, it makes my heart feel so full for him. He made the right choice; he went in pursuit of his dreams, and he’s a huge success. Just like I always knew he would be. We were the best of friends, but I can’t imagine he’s thought of me since. Why would he bother? I was just a girl he used to know in high school.
His gaze changes direction, and through the crowded room our eyes lock for the first time. I blink back at him, not sure what else to do, with the panic rising in my chest. He knows it’s me. My breath catches, and the room feels like it’s emptied out and it’s just me and him. Man, he’s hot as sin, and he knows it; I can tell by the swagger and in the way he stands.
His brow hikes up in a “well, hello” kind of a way. My heart skips a beat, and a flutter of butterflies takes off through my body. He hasn’t forgotten me. I don’t know why but that feels incredibly satisfying. I watch as he excuses himself from the harem of women surrounding him and starts across the room toward us. Each step he takes closer to me causes me to feel more and more lightheaded. I grab Brandon’s wrist to steady myself, because all of a sudden, I really feel like I might faint.
“Hey, Amelia, you okay?” he gets out before realizing what’s wrong with me, when Heath arrives in front of us.
Before I can properly register what is happening, deep brown eyes are staring back at me. Kind and charming. In way-too-close proximity. “Millie.” He says my nickname in a playful way, with a sexy smirk, and it’s that panty-dropping grin that makes all the girls crazy, including me. I might have grown up with him and known him better than anyone else at one time, but I’m still a starstruck fan when he smiles at me like that.
A stupid schoolgirl giggle is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Quickly, I cover my mouth with my palm. What the fuck is wrong with me? “Heath.” I say his name through one of the hugest most genuine smiles I have had in a long time. I can almost feel Brandon’s smug grin coming off him from next to me, but I don’t move my eyes away from Heath to look.
Seeing him again after all this time has me lost for words. He’s a man now. Gorgeous, in a rough, edgy kind of way. In an “I haven’t gotten him out of my head in that last ten years” kind of way. He was always my type and age hasn’t changed that; if anything, our time apart has only made him more enticing, whereas I have aged with stress and the pressure of being a single mom. Time isn’t kind to women in the way it is to men. To Heath, anyway—he’s fucking gorgeous.
Brandon drops his head closer to my ear. “I’m going to find myself a drink, let you have your moment,” he whispers. “Heath.” He offers him a nod of acknowledgment, all cocky alpha male, as he wanders off toward the bar.
“Was that Brandon Lewis?” he asks me.
“Yeah, he’s kind of dating my sister these days, so we’re close.”
“Jasmine?” he asks.
“Cassandra,” I correct him.
“Oh, wow. For a moment I thought you might have been together or something, but I didn’t really pick you for a football wife.” He laughs, and I can tell he feels as awkward as me, but he’s trying to play it off like he’s cool. I don’t know what he has to be anxious about, he’s the superstar.
I fiddle with my many rings nervously, twisting each one, hoping to find the right words so I don’t come across like a fool in front of him. “Nope,” is all I can come up with.Not a wife at all, is what I should say, but I'm not able to push the words past my lips. I smile because what else can I do.
His line of sight drops to my hands, probably because I'm fussing with them. And I see that knowing look. Yes, no wedding band, it’s that obvious. I think he is going to point it out, but he doesn’t. He just returns his gaze to my face, with a look that confuses me because it holds such familiar warmth, like no time has passed at all and we are still just two kids in love. “I can’t even tell you how good it is to see you, baby.”
I tilt my head, a little shocked and bashful at the way he looks at me. And the baby nickname makes my heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. “I thought you would have long forgotten about little old me,” I admit, letting myself get carried away with how nice it feels to have his attention.
“Never,” he says with a heat in his eyes I remember all too well. If I didn’t know better, I would say Heath Riley rock star wants to fuck my brains out, and man, do I want him to.
That realization causes my heart to pound a little harder and a shiver of excitement to run through my entire body. What the hell was that? It may have been a lifetime since I’ve been with a man but one little word and I’m about to melt into a puddle on the ballroom floor in front of him. I have gone from giggling like a schoolgirl to being ready to drop my panties and let him have his dirty-rock-star way with me. I need to get my shit together so I can talk to him normally, like the sophisticated adult woman I am.
I straighten my shoulders, ready to ask him if he would like to go somewhere quiet for a drink. I don’t want to have this conversation in the ballroom with everyone else around.
“You’re the only reason I bothered to come tonight. What do you say we get out of here?” he says so smoothly, like he has practiced it in his head a million times before. Or maybe it’s that he has said it so many times before. I’m sure he doesn’t have to do much and women would be throwing themselves at him.
I feel my eyes go wide. The truth is, I have done the rounds and talked with anyone I really wanted to already. There is nothing keeping me here. But get out of here? Is he really hoping to have sex with me? That’s what his eyes are telling me. After ten years and a few words, is that something I’m ready for? “All right,” I mutter, shocking even myself with my answer. But I can’t sleep with him. I need to have a serious life-changing conversation. And right now, I need my body and my brain to get with the program so I can.
He takes my hand, sending a jolt of electricity between us, and I look up at him, wishing things were different. This feels too nice. He leads me toward the bar. And I’m sure I sense every last woman in the place staring daggers in my direction, but for once, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I need this, a little scrap of hope of what could have been, before I have to go and ruin it with the truth.
He holds up a finger, signaling for me to wait. I do as I’m told, watching him, trying to work out what he’s up to. Right now, I would be willing and eager to do just about anything he said. That thought alone should be enough to scare me, but instead, a thrill runs through me. A crazy, reckless zap of excitement. Just being around him makes me feel young again. He starts talking to the guy behind the bar, his eyes flicking back to me with amusement. Then he’s back with me. “Quick, before he notices this is gone,” he tells me, showing the bottle he has swiped from the bartender. I take his other hand and hurry with him away from the crime scene.
As soon as we’re outside in the fresh September air, I burst out laughing, unable to contain myself. “Oh my God.” I slap his chest. “You have all the money in the world, and you make me an accomplice to stealing alcohol.”
“What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer the lady something to drink?” He looks back at me, and we’re teenagers again, just out to have some fun. And man, did we get up to so much fun together. Things no one else ever knew "good girl" Amelia Harper was even capable of. But with Heath by my side, I was up for anything. I wish I could bottle this moment and save it for the lonely nights when I’m back in my house in my king-sized bed all alone. When the thought of doing something fun again feels impossible.
“Nothing about you gives off the vibe that you’re a gentleman,” I tell him, still laughing. I know way too much to assume that.
He covers his chest like he has been wounded. Then he winks at me. “You know me too well, baby.”
