“Honey, hate to break it to ya, but this is Billingsley. Your business is everyone’s business. Especially when you two didn’t bother hiding anything at Leighton’s barbecue last summer.”
Damn this small town and their gossip. The only thing I could take some comfort in was knowing they didn’t actually know anything about what happened that night. Billy had remained as closed lipped about it as I had. I knew why I had, but why had he?
“Hey you two lovebirds,” Derek’s head squeezed between us as he hung a heavy arm around each of our shoulders.
“We are not together,” I immediately responded.
“Right.” He smirked, his tone full of disbelief. “It’s about time to see the bride and groom off, which means I need this guy’s help.” He nodded toward Wes.
Wes finally released his hold on me as both men took a step back. “Keep your skirt on until I get back, city. I won’t be long.”
I rolled my eyes as the two of them took off toward the parked cars. I spun in the direction of the bar in desperate need of a stiff drink. Once again, I was pulled from my quest when Leighton came out of nowhere, hooking my elbow through her arm, dragging me off course.
“Come on,” she said, pulling me toward a large, rambunctious group, throwing back drinks.
“I need a drink.”
“We have shots.”
Sold.
We squeezed between a few bodies until we were in the middle of the action. Aaron, Leighton’s husband, passed us each a shot before throwing his arm around his wife. We clinked glasses, and I tilted my head back, swallowing the shot in one gulp—the cool, sweet liquid sliding easily down my throat.
I reached my hand out greedily, immediately demanding another. A hand slipped from behind me, placing a shot glass in my grasp. I spun to thank the man, my words faltering once again.
“Cheers.” Billy raised his glass in what I hoped was a peace offering.
I hesitated a moment before tapping the edge of it with mine. Our eyes remained locked as we both downed the liquid courage. I swiped my tongue across my bottom lip, getting every last bit. His eyes followed the movement. My cheeks heated as the sexual chemistry I’d felt that first night surged forward like a volcanic eruption.
He cleared his throat, a brief glance over my shoulder, before pinning me with his stare again. “You wanna dance?”
I didn’t.
I wanted to run.
Far. Far. Away.
“Sure.” The word slipped through my lips.
Maybe it was the curiosity—why wasn’t he wanting to run far away from me? Or maybe it was the fact that I just couldn’t seem to control myself when it came to the gorgeous man in front of me. The man was my kryptonite. And the pull only intensified seeing him dressed in dark slacks and a white dress shirt that accentuated the defined body I knew was concealed below them.
He took my hand, turning his back to lead me to the dance floor. My eyes fluttered shut momentarily as I absorbed the heat of his palm and the strength of his hold on me. Breathing through my nose, I reminded myself he was just a man. I’d danced with plenty and kissed just as many. This man was no different. But my internal organs were at conflict, my heart saying maybe, my brain saying no way.
My breath quickened with the beat of the music as he pulled me into his firm embrace. It was familiar and terrifying all at once. I wasn’t sure if the rolling in my stomach was nausea or butterflies, which put me on edge even more.
“You look beautiful.” His voice flowed through me like a fine wine.
“Thank you.” I met his eyes for the first time since he’d pulled me into his arms. I took in the sharp edges of his jaw, the rugged perfectionism of his brown hair, and his soft hazel eyes. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” It was an understatement.
His smile spread slowly. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night… For longer, actually.”
I gave him a silent look. We both knew he had my number if that were truly the case.
His smile faded, and he looked away. “Look, about that night, I—”
“Let’s not talk about it,” I interrupted. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was drunk and…and I’d rather just forget it ever happened.”
“Forget it happened?” He pinned me with his stare once again.
I nodded with little confidence. I didn’t want to forget everything that happened between us that night. Just that small detail that had me skipping town as my heart and dignity shriveled up and died.
“Right,” he scoffed with a humorless laugh. “I guess that’s your M.O. then, isn’t it, Hannah?”
I pulled back, stepping out of his embrace. He didn’t fight to hold onto me and that alone hurt, not to mention his words.
“My M.O.?”
“Shit,” he grumbled under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean that. I—”
“You know what? It’s obvious we both seem to say a lot of things we don’t mean when we’re around each other. So maybe it’s best we keep our distance.” I spun to leave.
Catching my wrist, he tugged me to a stop. “Hannah.”
“It was nice knowing you, Billy,” I threw over my shoulder, yanking my wrist from his grasp as I walked away. At least this time, I was the one leaving him at a loss.
Chapter 3
HANNAH
I’d never been a runner. I’d never been one to hide. But sometimes, it was necessary. With Billy, it was almost instinctual, a survival tactic. I didn’t look back to see how long he stood alone on the dance floor where I’d left him, or if he’d even watched me walk away. My eyes didn’t wander in search of him to see if he’d gone back to his date, the brunette who was my opposite in every way.
Nope. I did none of those things. Instead, I marched to the bar, swiping a bottle of champagne, ignoring the bartender’s objection as I continued past it and into the pitch black, away from the vibrant lights of the outdoor reception. I walked aimlessly, the party’s music and chatter fading into the background, until I found what looked like the perfect hiding spot: the barn.
I took a seat on a bale of hay and popped the bottle open, taking a swig. This had been a shit couple of weeks, between losing my job and seeing Billy again. I think I’d earned a little solitary time with a bottle of champagne and hay poking me in the ass through my dress. It appeared I was winning at life these days.
“Couldn’t stand to be away from me, could ya, city?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, my shoulders deflating at the sound of his voice from behind me. Wes plopped down next to me, snatching the bottle from my hands. I scowled as he took a sip.
“I hadn’t planned on sharing,” I said, swiping it back.
“Someone’s in a mood. What happened? Miller step on your toes?”
“Not exactly,” I muttered. Glancing up at him, my eyes widened. “How did you even know we danced?”
He shook his head with an amused smile.
“Never mind… Billingsley,” I responded to my own question, rolling my eyes upward.
“Now you’re getting it.”
“What are you even doing in here?”