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“The redhead. Aria.”
I gulp my bourbon down. “Her friend’s name is Aria?” With the hair and that body and those hips, it has to be her. “She wouldn’t be a teacher, would she?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“Pretty sure we’ve met before.”
“Don’t sleep with her. She is Lily’s friend and that will just make things weird.”
Too late.“The heart wants what the heart wants, Cormac.”
He groans. “Just…don’t make a mess of things, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.” And I mean it. After that one-night stand, I haven’t connected with anyone else the way I had with her. I figured it was a fluke, but after a string of hook-ups in the years since, I have never had that kind of easy chemistry with anyone. I’ve never stopped thinking about her.
If I could talk to her tonight and see if that’s still there, maybe it wasn’t a fluke. Maybe it was just because that was the last night I’d be in town and I wrapped up a bunch of expectations for my life around all of that. Or maybe it was being young, dumb, and full of compelling hormones.
Maybe it was kismet.
She spins around fast for a dance, and yep. It’s definitely her. Laughing with Lily as they move. Lily is a distractingly terrible dancer—it’s the first thing I’ve seen her bad at and it makes me like her more. Cormac needs someone who isn’t worried about what other people think. But her lack of rhythm is especially highlighted when she’s next to Aria, who moves like a professional dancer.
It’s as if something is pulling me to her like magnets. I want to go straight to her and talk to her, but I do not know what to say. My heart pounds in my ears like when I’m at a fire. I have sandpaper for a tongue, and my feet are lead. But I have to go talk to her. “Wish me luck.”
“I will wish you good behavior. I cannot say I wish you luck.”
That deserves a glare, but I get his point. “Understood.” The moment I step toward her, though, she turns around and her mouth drops when we make eye contact.
Is that a good mouth drop or a bad mouth drop?
She’s just staring. So, I’m just staring. It’s a stand-off of sorts, and I do not know what to do next, but I get the same drop feeling I get when I jump out of the plane for work. Everything about Aria thrills me, even now.
Until she darts into the crowd away from me.
The hell?
So, I follow her as best I can. It’s not too hard—her hair doesn’t let her hide for long. It’s like chasing Merida through a crowd. The red pops through.
I cannot believe she’s running. I had thought our night went well. She seemed satisfied. More than satisfied, really. And the next morning, everything was fine. She was sleepy…I made her coffee. I was clear about my plans…why run from me now? I have to know what is up.
Once out of the ballroom, I catch up to her at the coat check station—our coat room that’s been converted for the night to have an attendant. It’s too cold to run outside without a coat, so I know she has to stop there first. There’s a very long line of people, too, so Aria has to wait. A perfect time for me to grill her.
“Aria?”
But she folds her arms over her chest and faces the line.
“You can keep ignoring me, but I’m not going anywhere.”
She huffs.
“Look, I’m sorry I never called—
“You have to exchange numbers to call someone.”
“Right,” I say, scrubbing my hand through my hair. “And we agreed it was better not to, since I was leaving the country.”
“Mm, hmm.”
I don’t get her right now. “Why are you acting like a jilted lover?”
