I wonder about that for a split second as I peer out through the blinds, but just as I’m about to let them fall to the side and get on with my day, Reed suddenly looks up, and his brilliant blue eyes lock with mine.
Our eyes catch and hold for one intense moment, and in that moment I don’t know who I am anymore, or where I belong, or how I’m even standing with the things his gaze does to me.
My mind can’t process anything. I have no rational thought.
And despite not wanting it, my body vehemently betrays my mind. Everything pauses; time stands still, except for my surging heart that’s beating madly inside my chest.
Reed Devlin is beautiful in ways that make no sense to me, like the stars in the sky make no sense to the moon.
What other men don’t do for me, this one does effortlessly.
Trust me to find him attractive. The one man in this entire city to whom I should never be attracted to. And here I am, attracted to him anyway.
He might be good-looking, but I can’t let myself go down that road.
I sigh guiltily and look away.
Brinley
It’s late afternoon by the time I get back to my apartment after my gig at the restaurant, and after the draining day I’ve had, I’m thoroughly exhausted. All I want to do is take a long, hot shower, change into my pajamas, and veg out on the couch with a good movie.
Night sorted.
Twenty minutes later, I’m drying off in the bathroom when my phone pings with an incoming text message, so I shove my feet into my slippers and throw a fluffy robe around me as I head back into my bedroom.
I pick up the phone and glance at the screen.
Unknown Number: I think I left my wallet at your place. Can I swing by later and pick it up?
I blink.
Blink, slowly.
It can’t be.Can it?
But it must be.Damn it.
There goes my peaceful evening. Reed is the last person I want to see again, especially after the way he caught me staring at him through the front window earlier.
How embarrassing.
I can’t stop thinking about that look we shared though. There was something there, something unspoken that made my insides swirl and my lady parts quiver slightly. My cheeks flushed with heat every time I thought about him this afternoon.
Which, ashamedly, was frequent and often.
I tap out a quick reply and hit send.
Me: How did you get my number?
Unknown number: You really have to ask, Tink?
Me: Will you please stop calling me that.
Unknown number: You don’t like it?
I pause, my fingers hovering over the screen. As far as nicknames go, I suppose Tink is kind of cute. I mean, it’s not that bad, I guess. I just don’t know why he feels comfortable enough to give me a nickname in the first place.
When I don’t instantly respond, my phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance back down at the screen again.