Cori
The minutethe front door chimes at Thunder Books and Novelties, I let out an inward sigh. Of course, not a customer all day and the minute I start building the new release display up front, someone walks in. Without a chance to admire my handiwork, I plant on a smile preparing to greet the customer. My breath catches in my throat. There’s no way…it can’t be, but it is. I’d recognize that hulking frame anywhere.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and dart behind the nearest aisle of books before he has a chance to see me. My heart races as I squeeze my eyes closed. It’s been nearly five years since I’ve seen him, and that was without his clothes on. A memory of his tight, toned body floods my mind. I shake it off, not willing to allow myself the pleasure right now. I can’t let him see me, not after everything that’s happened.
I can’t take the chance. I feel like such an idiot considering after that one night, I never heard from him again. All of those nights I checked my phone, my email, even the front door, anything to indicate that Tyson Grayson gave a damn about me and it wasn’t just one night after too many bad beers. I will myself to take a deep breath before opening my eyes.
Slowly, I raise my head enough to peer above the books. Man, he looks good enough to eat in his destroyed jeans and perfectly fitted leather jacket. His hair is longer than the last time I saw him, styled away from his face with one strand that seems to have broken free, tapping his chiseled cheekbone with each step he takes. Steps that are headed in my direction.
As quietly as I can I race down the aisle in the opposite direction.
I can’t believe after all this time, he’s back in Thunder Mountain. You’d think after being named a tech billionaire who’s famous for his sordid love affairs with some of the hottest women alive, he’d steer clear of the small mountain town he grew up in. Why come back? There's none of that here, which makes me wonder why he’s come home.
As if sensing my stare, he lowers the book in his hands and looks around. I duck back just in time, avoiding being caught. I don’t move a muscle, but my thoughts spin, my brain fighting itself.
On the one hand, it’s probably been so long that he’s long forgotten about me. I suck in a sharp inhale, remembering how gentle he was with me that night…until he wasn’t. The passion between us was palpable. Both of us were ready for it. The tension between us had been building for a long time. Thinking about how that night probably meant more to me hurts in a way I can’t explain.
I sneak another glance. He thumbs through a paperback before replacing it on the shelf, at which point I return to my hiding place.
On the other hand, what if he does remember our night as well as I do? I was a different girl back then, and God knows he’s a different guy. My stomach ties itself in a knot, wondering if things could’ve been different if he would’ve stayed in Thunder Mountain and if my brother never found out I’d slept with his best friend.
My fist clenches at my side. I’m going to have to talk to him. No one else is working today, and if he buys anything, I’ll have to be the one to ring him up.
“Excuse me.”
The low voice causes me to gasp audibly. I stand up straight a little too fast and lose my balance in the process. One flailing arm hits a stack of books on the nearby display, sending them crashing to the floor.
Lord have mercy. Please let someone else have walked into the store when I was low-key stalking Tyson Gray. I’ll do anything, stop drinking, stop swearing, stop acting like I don’t want him to remember me, and tell me he’s been thinking of me since our one sordid night of hot passionate nastiness.
But God doesn’t work that way.
With heat flushed cheeks, I slowly lift my eyes from his designer sneakers all the way up past his perfectly fit t-shirt that clings to his chest until I meet those incredible hazel-green eyes I’ve been desperately trying to forget.
“Can I help you?” My forced smile twitches the corners of my lips.
Somebody just kill me now.
“Yeah, I’m looking for something to read this week while I’m in town.” He brushes his hair away from his face, and a memory of him pumping into me while my fingernails rake his broad, strong back fills my vision. I quickly rush to extinguish the fire burning in my core.
“What kind of books are you into?” I busy myself by cleaning up the mess I’ve made. To my surprise, Ty bends down and helps me.
“I like mystery, crime, or anything with a good story.” He hands me two books before I can look over at him. When I do, he narrows his eyes at me. “You look familiar.”
Shit. He does remember me. Kind of.
“I get that a lot,” I say. “Have you read any David Foster Wallace? Tom Robbins?”
Tyson scrunches his Romanesque nose. “Nah. That’s a little too cerebral for me. I like stories that feel like they might happen in real life.” This nearly makes me laugh out loud, considering what’s happening right now in front of me seems like a total dream. I’ve thought of this moment since Ty abruptly left for San Francisco, imagining what I would say to him if I ever ran into him again. How I’m sorry I ruined a part of his life.
“Maybe check out some of the new releases? Riley Sager is good. Grady Hendrix if you’re into horror…”
“No.” He stands at the same time I do, shaking his head. “Life’s horrible enough. I want something I can escape into.”
I’d like to escape into those big, burly arms of his. How can one man possess all of the brains and brawn simultaneously? Not to mention his full, kissable lips and dark, lush lashes that any woman alive would kill for.
“Follow me,” I say, and instantly regret it as I lead him to the front of the store. “You should be able to find something here, and if you need any more help.” I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “Let me know.”
“The kind of help I actually need probably requires a professional.” I giggle at his joke and turn to leave, but stop dead in my tracks at the sound of his voice.
“Cori?”
Gah. Did he actually just say my name? I turn back around to face him, fists gripping the fabric of my skirt.
“Hey, Tyson.”
“As I live and breathe.” He leans into one hip and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “You look—” I wait for it. Chubbier? Older? Sad? That signature half-smile plays on his lips. “Amazing.”