“I don’t mind.” The words come out rough and reveal too much. Like how glad I am to see her. Like how much I’ve missed her.
She looks around. “I’d invite you to have a seat, but this place is packed.”
“You can come to my table. We reserved it, so it’s ours for the night.”
Brinley scans the room until she finds Savannah sitting with Alec in our semicircular booth in the corner. Alec’s already gotten her a fresh martini, and as we watch, he whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. “Is it just you and your friend, or . . . ?”
Another sentence I’d love for her to finish. Does she want to know if I’m here with a date? Does she wonder if I found love again after I walked away from ours? I’ve wondered the same about her a thousand times, but I always stopped myself from looking her up. Why pick at old scars?
But now that she’s in front of me, I can’t help myself. I inspect her left hand, fixated on that naked ring finger. It doesn’t mean anything. Just because she’s not wearing a ring doesn’t mean she’s not involved with someone. And it’s not like one Vegas run-in means we get a second chance.
This doesn’t change anything.
She slides off the stool, shaking her head as she hitches her purse over her shoulder. She’s a few inches taller in those heels but still barely reaches my chin. “This is crazy. You don’t owe me any answers, and no one would blame you if you hated my guts.”
“Wait.” I reach out to grab her by the wrist, but I remember myself and only let my fingers skim the delicate bones there. “Where are you going?”
She shrugs. “To tell Savvy I’m leaving, then to the room to have a meltdown and maybe room service?”
“Do you mind if I join you?”
She laughs. “For the room service or the meltdown?”
I exhale slowly. The reunion I fantasized about definitely didn’t involve her having a meltdown at the sight of me, but hell—I’m not feeling particularly steady myself. “Either? Both?” I take a chance and step closer but shove my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her. The decade between us doesn’t change the fact that she pushed me away. “It’s been too long, and if I’m not going to see you again for another ten years, there’s no way a couple of minutes standing at a bar will be enough.”
The look in her eyes as she considers this undoes something in me. Is that hope? Is it longing? Because there’s nothing in the energy snapping between us that makes me believe she wants me to walk away.
I swallow. “I’m not here with anyone else. Even if I were, I think we both know I’m enough of an ass that I’d choose to spend my night with you instead.”
She scoffs, and she probably thinks I’m blowing smoke and trying to charm her, but every word is true.
“I have an idea.” I watch her carefully. “If you can put off the meltdown for a few hours, I can take care of feeding you. What if we share some drinks, catch up a little, and do that whole reminiscing thing without any of the awkwardness I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be feeling right now?”
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth in a gesture I’ve replayed in my memories a million times—Brinley in my arms, my fingers threaded through her dark hair, her eyes on mine as I lean in to sample what she’s tasting. “What if I just want to sit across from you and pretend you never left?” That hits me like a blow to the gut. I left. It’s true. But only because she begged me to. She must see something in my face at that, because she flinches and drops her gaze to the floor. “Sorry. That’s not fair.”
When she keeps her head bowed, I take her hand and skim my thumb across her knuckles. The contact is like a jolt of adrenaline through my system. Can’t you feel that? I want to ask, but when she looks up and meets my eyes, I know she does. “Tonight can be whatever you want it to be,” I say. Just let it be with me. “You make the rules.”
She hesitates a beat, then smiles. “Okay then, let’s go to your table.” Pink blooms on her cheeks as if she’s just agreed to spend the night in bed with me, and I have to physically stop my thoughts from going down that track of what if.
I mocked Alec mercilessly for reserving this table—it cost a small fortune—but as I lead Brinley through the packed room, I’m fucking grateful we have it. This all feels like a dream, and I’m afraid if I let Brinley out of my sight, I’ll wake up and never see her again.
“Brinley!” Savannah says when we reach the table. She and Alec are on one side of the booth, and she’s practically in his lap. “This is Alec Hayes, Marston’s business partner and future father of my children.”
I arch a brow at Alec. “You move fast, brother.”
Alec smirks. “She said she wanted her kids to have eyes like mine, so I offered her my DNA.”
I slide in the side opposite them. “Totally reasonable,” I deadpan.
“You two have some sort of consulting firm, right?” Brinley asks, looking between us as she scoots in beside me. “You come in when resorts are in trouble and get them back on track?”
“Something like that.” I fight back a smile. I might’ve refrained from looking up Brinley, but it seems she’s kept tabs on me. I don’t hate that. “Alec and I are working on a project at a spa off the Strip.”
Savannah wrinkles her nose in my direction. “Sorry about earlier. I never would’ve come on to you if I’d known who you were. I wouldn’t do that to Brin.”
Brinley scowls. “How many of those have you had?” she asks, pointing to Savannah’s glass.
Savannah shrugs. “Enough that my tongue’s loosened a little, but not so many that I’ve lost control of it entirely. You need to catch up.”
Brinley takes a small sip of her drink. “I’ll pace myself. Thanks.”
Savannah and Alec turn back to each other, returning to their conversation.
I settle into the booth and study Brinley. “You moved back to Orchid Valley after you finished college.” It’s not a question. Even if I hadn’t put as much together from Savannah’s introduction, I know Brinley well enough to know it’s true. Or knew her . . . Can you know someone when you haven’t spoken to them for ten years?
“I always planned to. Even with its faults, it really is the only place I’d want to raise a family.”
Family. The word makes me bristle, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Brinley always wanted to be a mom, to raise half a dozen rug rats and let them wreak havoc on her parents’ immaculate mansion. The image would make me smile if it didn’t exclude me so completely. “And is that what you’re doing there?” I shift my focus to that naked ring finger again. “Being the perfect wife and mother?”
“I’m not the perfect anything.” She drains the rest of her martini and doesn’t meet my eyes, focusing instead across the packed bar. “I need to run to the ladies’ room.”
I’m a dick. “Sorry. I didn’t mean . . .”
“It’s not that.” She settles her glass on the table and gives me a tight smile as Savannah looks up and meets her gaze. “I’m fine. Really.”