I stepped back, and he didn’t let go right away until I seemed stable. When I found my footing, his hands dropped to his sides.
I moved away, but not before my senses went on high alert. He was so close. Desmond! His tall, muscular body and that adorable, dark brown hair, which was now cropped close to his head. He must have been lifting weights and training more because this was no more the mellow nerd that I remembered. He was—I gulped—very attractive in a strong, bulging-biceps way.
Our gazes locked, I could feel his eyes on me, and the surrounding aura changed perceptibly. Desmond’s eyes darted to me, his gaze taking me in, and his mouth fell just a little open.
Even though Desmond McKinley and I both lived in New York, running into him was a shock. He would eat out at Masa and Le Bernardin. I normally ate my meals at the restaurant when I wasn’t at home. He spent his free time at the museums and traveling in his private jet to exotic locations, like the Côte d’Azur and Bora-Bora. So, hearing his name in the news or local gossip occasionally or knowing he was still, unfortunately, alive, was not unusual. But locking eyes outside a restaurant where I was meeting a date was. Especially since we hadn’t seen each other ever since our breakup ten years ago.
Desmond turned slightly and nodded at the driver. It was a Rolls-Royce Phantom. It reeked of wealth, just like the new Desmond. The car pulled away from the curb and glided out of sight before I turned back to him.
“Ava?” he said, his voice now low and husky.
The smile I’d initially seen on his face was gone. He looked stern, as if my presence almost irritated him.
“What’re you doing here?” we blurted out at the same time.
In the silence that followed, we hesitated. Ten years ago, we would have laughed at the coincidence. Laughed at ourselves for speaking at the same time. Not today.
“I’m … I’m here for a personal event,” I said finally when he didn’t relent, when his eyes bored into mine.
My heart was racing. The Desmond McKinley I had known was an enthusiastic seventeen-year-old in high school. He’d dressed in sweatshirts and shorts and had perpetually floppy hair that I used to love to flick above hisforehead. This man was dressed in a suit that probably cost more than I paid for rent. In New York rent, no less. His hair was so neatly trimmed that I couldn’t even push any of it back even if I wanted to.
My hands smoothed over my pencil skirt. The Ava I had been in high school would only dress in shorts or summer dresses. I’d worn nothing formal until graduation night. But Desmond hadn’t been there that night to see me. He never saw this Ava.
Seeing him like this, here, without an ounce of regret, made me hate all the times I’d spent mourning my high school romance with Desmond. I had often caught myself wondering if he was the one who had gotten away.
“A personal event?” Desmond’s voice was wry, and he tilted his head just a little to look at me.
The light from the windows caught the cuff links on his sleeves, and they gleamed.
“That must mean you’re on a date.” Desmond checked his watch just as I gulped. He knew me too well. “It’s five minutes past seven, so I’m guessing you’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes.”
My cheeks felt warm at the reminder of how well he knew me. Ten years later, I was still utterly predictable.
“You should go in,” Desmond said, looking at the blue door. “It’s too cold out here.”
I shook my head. “If my date doesn’t show up, I’d hate to tell the waiter that I got stood up and do the walk of shame out the door.”
Desmond’s voice was hard. “If he doesn’t show up, Ava, you call me, and I’ll be your date.”
I looked up at him in surprise at the offer. I was just about to speak when, from somewhere behind me, I heard a voice. It sounded breathless and hoarse.
“Ava?”
Desmond’s eyes darted over my shoulders to look at the person walking up behind us before he looked at me. His lips curled, and he stood taller. “I see that your personal event has arrived.”
The approaching footsteps slowed down near us, and I didn’t want Desmond to witness this. I stepped back and was about to bid him a stiff goodbye when he smiled.
“I never thought we’d meet again,” he said, and this time, his smile had something to it. A hint of the charm that I’d once fallen for.
“Goodbye, Desmond,” I said with finality in my voice.
He’d walked out of my life unapologetically a long time ago. I wasn’t letting him back in.
He didn’t seem disturbed by my abrupt dismissal.
“See you around, Ava,” he said.
The lips stretched out into a smile, displaying more charm. My heart skipped a beat just as I turned away and tried to catch my breath.
