SENNA
The crowd thinsout around midnight, and the few people left are either engaged in a political debate in the living room or tasting desserts in the kitchen.
Abel has been discreet the entire evening, the few polite exchanges of words serving no clues to others on the nature of our connection.
It turns out he knows Mark from work. I was never curious enough to ask him about his line of work, and tonight was not the best moment to start that conversation.
I introduced him to Harper before I started mingling with the crowd and tried to stay away from Evelyne. And my whole past, to be honest.
I can’t point out the exact number of drinks I had to ingest to make this work. All I know is one of them–– the last one most likely––did the trick, and I no longer care about the people, my past life, or Jaden. A giggle forms in my throat as I finally see the funny part of it.
Amused, I set the empty bottle on the table, spin around and head to the bathroom. I lose my balance for a moment and struggle to regain control. The walls seem to cave in, and the whole room begins to spin.
I’ll survive.
Just put one step in front of the other, Senna. You’ve done it before. You can do it again.
Grinning, I take a few more steps, my eyes trained on the bathroom door, when a hand slides over my butt.
Oh, I know this touch. I know it so well.
Soft tingles roll down my legs. Mmm... It doesn’t feel bad at all. It’s been some time since I felt that.
“You haven’t called me in a while,” Abel says, his husky voice flowing through me.
I shift my eyes to him and lose my balance again, this time clutching his arms and crashing with him against a wall not far from the elusive bathroom door.
“What happened to you, baby?” he asks.
His fingers gently clasp my chin, his eyes looking for mine. I find myself studying him despite my brain fog.
He’s such a handsome man.
A thought springs into my head, yet I have a hard time voicing it. I part my lips and try to speak, the alcohol blocking my pipes.
His sexy grin doesn’t help, distracting me even more.
My eyes dip to his full lips, then sweep the strong edge of his teeth and the shadow of his stubble.
“I meant to...” I say quietly, but that’s a lie.
I never thought things would work out between the two of us again. That’s why I’d chickened out, but now I wonder.
Could we make it work again?
Maybe?
I cast a glance over his body. The sharp, button-down shirt fits smoothly across his torso, the bottom neatly tucked inside his suit pants.
His hands slip to either side of my head, his palms bracing the wall, as his lips stop inches away from mine.
He would never kiss me. Not for a starter. But now, he might. His lips press against mine before I spin another thought.
Mmm.
He tastes good–– a mix of scotch and cologne.
I bring my hands to his neck and pull him into me. He crashes into my frame, his warmth melting my skin. His lips burn. My blood simmers.