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Ian pats the space next to him. “Will you sit down or you prefer hovering above me?”
“I can hardly hover above you.” I laugh, taking a seat next to him. We’re close. His thigh is just an inch from mine. His scent overpowers my senses, and I inhale deeply. He doesn’t smell the same. Of course, he doesn’t. A lot of things have changed about him.
He drapes his arm over the headrest, and I raise my eyes to meet his. He’s grinning. I smile back.
“What?”
“It’s good to see you, Kaylee.”
I swallow. “It’s err…good to see you too.”
Geez. Why am I being so tongue-tied? Yes, he’s the Ian Reynolds. Billionaire and serial entrepreneur with his fair share of awards. But before he became that, he was just Ian. My brother’s best friend. That was it.
“Good.”
He pats my thigh. It’s supposed to be a casual gesture – and maybe to him it is – but his touch sends a thrill through me, and I suck in a breath. His fingers are warm.
“Here they are!” Dylan appears holding drinks. “Pick your poisons.” He connects Ian’s phone to a speaker and puts on some music. “Time to celebrate my homeboy’s return to where it all began.” His phone rings. “Be right back.”
“He’ll probably be gone for an hour,” I say, holding up a bottle. “He’ll spend the whole day talking to Jessie if he can.”
Ian pours me a drink. We chink glasses. I down the drink in two gulps. He stares at me, and I laugh.
“That was fast.”
I smirk. “I’m not sixteen anymore.”
His expression changes, and we fall silent. I know what he’s thinking – I’m thinking it too.
Chapter Two: Ian
A look flashes in her eyes. Does she remember? Or am I just projecting? The image is sharp in my mind: Her. Dressed in shorts and a crop-top showing off her slim toned belly. Dark hair flowing past her shoulders. Her tear-streaked face tilted up, lips a hair’s breadth from mine, her breath tickling my face…
I blink her back into focus. She’s staring at me, waiting. My gaze drops to her lips. Full, parted.
Snap out of it.
“So,” I clear my throat, leaning back. “Dylan tells me you started your own pastry shop.”
I gulp down my drink. She fills her glass.
“Let’s not talk about work like boring adults,” she says after a gulp; then she drops the glass on the table with a thud. “This is supposed to be a party, right?”
She giggles and jumps to her feet. Then she starts removing her jacket.
“Come on!”
She increases the volume of the song then moves to the center of the room, holding her hands out to me. I smile. This is the Kaylee I remember. I sit back and watch her for a few minutes. She wraps her arms around chest, shutting her eyes as she moves to the rhythm. Her hair flies about her face as she moves. A little laugh erupts, and she tilts her chin up. It’s a sight I’ve seen a few times in the past, and even after so long, it still has the same effect on me. She was too young back then for me to take any actions with her or show her my interest, but I was always drawn to her and right now there is no difference.
The song changes, and she moves her hips more slowly. It’s like she’s in her own world, and I’m just a spectator looking in from outside. Then her eyes open and she looks straight at me.
“Dance with me.”
Her voice is low, husky. She’s definitely tipsy. I rise from the chair. She smiles up at me and continues dancing. Her hair moves to cover one eye. I reach out to tuck it behind her ear. She inhales sharply, shutting her eyes. Her skin is warm and smooth beneath mine. I cup her cheek, my heart pounding.
“What song is that?”
Dylan’s voice snaps me out of the trance. I take a step back and clear my throat. He grabs my phone and grimaces.
