“I’ve never been before her.”
Curious now, I couldn’t help asking, “How do you know the difference?”
Unperturbed by my probing, he took a sip of his drink and set it down. He leaned against the bar, as thoughtful as I’d ever seen him. “I miss her when she’s not with me, and I want to tell her everything, no matter how small. She’s touched me where no one else has ever reached, and I let her in because I wanted her to know me. When it happens to you, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”
I nodded, impressed by his response, then took a sip of my drink—and froze. Two men had just walked into the restaurant. One looked slightly familiar, and the other I couldn’t forget no matter my earlier resolution to do so. The noise of the crowd faded, and I zeroed in on Roe’s mouth and how his lips grazed the other man’s ear as he bent to whisper something to him.
I knew what those lips tasted like, how his soft mouth felt against mine: hot, hungry, searching. I might’ve dreamed about those sweetly sensual kisses we’d shared when we were young, but that encounter in Roe’s office had left me sleepless, my body thrumming to a melody of fire through my bloodstream. I fantasized about us naked in bed, devouring each other, enveloped in a fog of desire.
“Ezra? Ez?” Sunny tugged at my sleeve, and I snapped back to awareness, breathing as hard as if I’d sprinted a hundred-yard dash.
“Wh-what?”
“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I continued to stare at Roe and his date. Who was that guy? Were they together? Now I recognized the date as the man who’d burst into Roe’s office, interrupting our kiss, then left immediately after.
“You might say that.” I drained my glass and held it up to the bartender for another. “A ghost from the past.” With Sunny watching me anxiously, I drank the second faster than the first. A languid heat seeped through me, and I swayed a bit. My day had been spent finalizing contracts for several of my models who were walking in Paris Fashion Week, and I hadn’t had anything to eat aside from a muffin that morning. The vodka hit me hard.
The soft opening of a restaurant didn’t seem like a placeI’d find Monroe. He’d never cared when I’d name-drop the famous people my parents would have in their office or meet for dinner. His eyes would flash ice, his voice dripping with scorn.“No offense, Ezra, but what benefits are your parents providing to society? All they do is make money off the backs of young people and give them hang-ups about their weight and looks.”And since I didn’t want to get into a deep philosophical discussion, mainly because I wasn’t sure of the answer, I would kiss him until neither of us cared about anything else except how fast we could get our clothes off.
Roe’s smile faded as he came close enough to recognize me, and his full mouth tightened. Feeling no pain, I decided,To hell with him and everything, and planted myself in his way so he couldn’t take another step without acknowledging me.
“What’re you doing here?” I glowered over my empty glass. “I didn’t think you liked places like this.”
Equally pugnacious, Roe snapped. “Why would you know anything about me? We’re not friends. Come on, Colin. Let’s get a drink.” Practically dragging Colin, who gave us a curious but apologetic smile, Monroe disappeared to the opposite side of the bar.
“Who was that?” Sunny asked and pressed a glass into my hand. When I discovered it held only cold water, I made a face.
“I want a drink. Why’d you get me water?” I could hear my petulant voice rising above the noise.
“Because you want a drink.” The sleek line of Sunny’s inky-dark ponytail curled over his shoulder like an upside-down question mark, and diamond studs winked in his ears. “Now drink that water, and you can tell me who that guy is.”
“Nobody.” I gulped down the water. “Just someone I used to know.”
Chapter Six
What the hell was he doing here? But even as I asked myself that question, I realized how stupid it sounded. This was Ezra’s stomping ground—where he grew up and where he belonged. He fit right in with the sleek, beautiful people with their thousand-dollar clothes and false smiles.
Colin handed me a glass of red wine. “Why’re you so angry? We didn’t have to come. I sure as hell would’ve rather stayed home.” His hand crept around my waist, and he put his lips to my ear. “I was so glad you asked me to come with you tonight. I’ve missed you. Did you know that?”
I did know. Colin and I met about six months ago, and we’d fallen into a casual, friends-with-benefits relationship where each of us knew where we stood. I’d made it clear I wasn’t interested in a relationship, and Colin assured me he was good with that arrangement. The sex was sweet, and Colin was young and fun.
“I’m glad you could come too.” I meant it. I might live in the most exciting city in the world, but I spent my life with my face pressed to the glass, an observer, not a participant. My mother and grandmother “kicking me out” didn’t have the intended consequences. Instead of finding someone to spend time with, I stayed inside, reading more and occasionally allowing Amy to persuade me to go to yoga with her. I might not have a boyfriend, but I was getting some definition in my abs.
I watched Ezra in an intense conversation with the same sexy guy he’d shown up with to yoga. The man touched him in a protective manner, and sourness curled in the pit of my stomach.
Fascinated by the sights and sounds, Colin accepted a skewer of shrimp from a waiter, his gaze searching the crowd, his eyes wide like a child’s at Christmas. He nudged me. “Look. Over there. Oh, my God. I never thought I’d see them in person. She really is Queen B.” He nibbled on the shrimp. I followed his not-so-subtle gesture to watch the entrance of the world’s hottest R&B husband and wife singers. “You never told me how you got this invite.”
Deliberately turning my back on Ezra and his boy toy, I sipped my wine. Amused by Colin’s excitement, I said, “It’s an interesting story. You know my Lost in New York support group? The best friend of one of the members is a food critic and had a conflict, so he offered Press the opportunity. But Press couldn’t make it, so he asked me if I’d like to go.”
“Who’s Press?”
Surprised at the jealous edge to Colin’s voice, I laughed. “He’s a guy in my group.”
Colin didn’t join me, his brows drawing together. “Did you ever date him? How many guys besides me are you seeing?”
What the hell?“Where’s this coming from, Colin?” I set my wineglass down. “What’s going on?” Perhaps the uncomplicated, unencumbered arrangement we had was only in my mind.
