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I grinned, swigging a pull off my beer.
“A man of few words, I see.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, my name’s Tiffany. What’s yours?”
“Ledger.”
“Good name for a good-looking guy like you.”
I simply stated, “I’m not much for talking.”
“Great.” She leaned in close to my face. “I’m not much for talking right now either. In fact, I think we could do something that doesn’t involve any talking at all.”
I arched an eyebrow, eyeing her up and down until I needed some air. It was hotter than hell in there. Excusing myself, I overheard her mutter, “Asshole,” as I stood and made my way out onto the empty balcony, wanting a change of scenery for a few minutes. I wasn’t a fan of big crowds, much less entertaining a woman I had no interest in.
Being in New York City was doing all sorts of fucked-up things to my head. Hazel still lived here, and I swear I thought I saw her everywhere—at the coffee shop this morning, on the street walking in the opposite direction of me, and even at the damn pizza stand.
This town might have stirred images of her, but the reality was that not a day went by when I didn’t think of her at least once, especially in my dreams. She haunted them often. My subconscious would set up different scenarios of a life together.
And it always came back to the same dream of what would have happened if I hadn’t turned her down…
Through the past decade of self-reflection, I learned a lot about myself. Including how much I really did love her and the effect she had on me. Every day, I regretted turning her down for the future she wanted with me at my graduation party, then kicking her out of my life a year later after my mother’s funeral.
I thought I was doing the right thing, but as time flew by, all I did was set myself up for a world without her in it. Chance was still my best friend, but Hazel was just as important to me back then. There wasn’t a memory of my childhood that didn’t include her. She was my closest friend outside of her brother, and the ways I let her in, I never did with anyone else.
I’d dated on and off since then, but nothing more than fucking and hanging out with random women. Not only did I have no time for a committed relationship but I also didn’t care for one. Women were always disposable to me and that hadn’t changed. To be honest, it probably became worse.
I was cold.
Detached.
Unemotional.
The complete opposite of the way I was with her. She owned me. Mind. Body. Soul.
Staring at my beer, I contemplated going to her apartment. I knew where she used to live because I helped pick out her place. We spent hours looking online for something perfect for her. I didn’t know if she still lived there, but it was worth a try. Chance and I didn’t talk about her. In his mind, we just grew apart through the distance between us. I never had to explain what happened with us to him; it simply went away.
They said that time heals all wounds, but the one she scarred me with was a permanent reminder of what I did to her, and now she was a part of me whether I fought it or not. And again, the truth was I wanted her there. Although she wasn’t in my life, she saved me from myself so many fucking times I lost count.
The urge to get in a cab to see her was strong.
Leaning against the railing, I rested my elbows on it, taking in the people dancing inside. When out of nowhere, long blond hair caught my attention as the music changed to a slower beat.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a better look at the woman near the dance floor with her back to me. Her long hair cascaded down her back as her hips swayed to the song's rhythm. She wore a tight red dress that accentuated all the curves of her body, leaving very little to the imagination.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I became captivated by the woman in red. She started to dance by herself, slowly working her hands up toward her head to run her fingers through her hair, holding it up off her neck.
Biting my bottom lip, I imagined the way her inviting skin would feel beneath my mouth. The way she danced was so unbelievably fucking sexy, but it wasn’t like every other girl I was used to seeing. She wasn’t dancing for anyone but herself. She rocked her hips and spun around. The dim lighting made it hard to make out her face.
Describing what I could see didn’t do her justice. She was oblivious to all the stares she attracted. I swallowed hard, my mouth becoming dry from the vision before me. My gaze traveled down her body.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could see her nipples peeking through her clingy fucking dress. She had a tiny waist and curvy hips. An hourglass figure, exactly how I liked it. The front of her dress was a deep V down her chest, finishing off her outfit with red fuck-me heels.
I sucked in a visible breath as I took her in. She was a vision, a goddess, and I couldn’t remember the last time someone held my attention quite like her. The music shifted to a faster beat, and within seconds, I lost sight of her.
A sense of familiarity filled my bones.
