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Out in the crowded room, she traced circular path, avoiding her sisters so that they were not at the same place. It took coordination and strategy to make the food distribution seem flawless.
It was on her first circle of the room that she saw Christopher Lowell. He had filled out even more over the past five years, and he looked more grown up. No longer was he the young boy she had stared at every day. Now he was all man and all muscle. The blond, wavy hair was just short stubble now. He was in jeans and a thin T-shirt, and she could see the muscles in his legs, arms, and on his chest.
Agatha couldn’t take her eyes off him, at least until she ran into an old man and almost dropped her tray. She was so proud of herself for saving it. Agatha scored one in the “don’t drop food on people” game, which was important—she didn’t need to get in trouble with her sister today.
Christopher’s brown eyes never left the TV screen that was showing clips of him playing for his previous team and some of the team he was going to play for. He didn’t talk to anyone or eat anything. But he did drink, beer after beer all evening.
After only fifteen minutes, she had decided he was not going to recognize her, and she was able to relax. He didn’t remember her or care about her if he did. But of course, he was the big football star now, and she was a waiter. Somehow it seemed their lives hadn’t changed since high school; he was still the star, and she was still nothing. Seven years hadn’t been long enough to change that.
From talk around the room, she had found out he had been traded against his will. He had been happy about it, but it seemed the team he was now on was not. So, when they had the chance, they traded him. He didn’t seem afraid to show that he wasn’t happy either.
As the night came to an end, Agatha went back to the kitchen to find Harper packing her supplies and dishes into big totes. With a sigh, she went to help her oldest sister. The job usually wasn’t over until hours after the event due to the cleanup.
“You go, Ag. You have to work tonight.” Harper waved her off.
“Thanks, Harps. See you tomorrow.” She turned away from her sister. Though they lived in the same house, they would not see one another for the rest of the night. Harper and Lucy would stay and clean up until about the time Agatha needed to be at the bar.
Slipping through the event space, Agatha was excited to get an hour to herself before she had to be to work again. Maybe she would take a walk around the waterfront since she had already paid for parking.
She was out the door without anyone noticing, heading down the hallway toward the elevator. As she passed the restrooms, a very drunk Chris Lowell came out, slowly swaying.
His brown eyes looked at her and he grinned. “Hey, Chris.”
With effort, she hid the smile his words of recognition caused her, but she responded one more time for old times’ sake, “Hey, Chris,” and walked away from him. Being a big football star and all, he probably wouldn’t remember their meeting in the morning anyway. But now she would.
Pushing the down button at the elevator, she almost jumped out of her skin when he said from right behind her, “Nice hair.”
Touching it now, she had forgotten about the new cut. “Thanks.”
The doors swished open, and she walked into the elevator. He followed and said, “Fuck, you’re hot.”
“Thanks,” she replied, not really knowing how to answer. She leaned into the wall of the elevator, realizing she kind of liked drunk Chris. One well-directed smile still made it easy for her to forgive him of anything.
“I want to fuck you,” he whispered as he leaned into her, making her feel small and delicate.
“You don’t even know my name.” She let herself smell him again. He smelled the same as her jacket had all those years before.
Just being near him turned her mind to mush and smoothed the rough memories of the past. Knowing she should stop him and making it happen were two different things. She was with him right now, and he wanted to be with her again. What would be the harm in taking things further? After all, it was her choice. She knew better than to think it was more than right now. She wouldn’t let her heart get involved.
“We’re both Chrises.” His tongue ran over her ear, sliding over earring after earring.
When the door opened, she tried to move, she really did. But his tongue had left her ear and was running over her neck. His hand reached over and pushed a button, and suddenly, her attention left the elevator door and focused on where his tongue would go next.
