“Nah.” A shrug. “I snagged a plate after I used the bathroom.”
Hopefully, he washed his hands before getting all up in the buffet they laid out for us.
Though, that seems…unlikely.
Because red flags.
I nod and slip out of the coat-check booth. As creepy as Dale is, his suggestion is actually good timing.
It gives me some space to do what I need to do.
I slip down the hall, turn the corner, and?—
Slam!
For the second time that night, I’m knocked down, pain radiating through my palms, my knees.
“Dammit,” I whisper, trying to breathe through the hurt.
But I don’t get that far.
Nope.
The hurt intensifies, hardening to a sharp point as a voice says, “Shoot. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
His hand appears in front of my face.
No. Nothis.
Brooks’s.
NINE
BROOKS
Fuck.
I feel like a dick, so in my own head, my own past that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.
And now I’ve knocked the tiny, curvy brunette to the floor.
“Here,” I coax, shaking my hand slightly when she doesn’t move, just keeps looking at the terracotta tiles.
Nothing.
“Hey,” I say, crouching down.
It’s like me dropping to her level startles her into motion.
She bursts to her feet, shoulder bumping mine on the way up.
I wobble and she rushes by me, heading for the winding corridors.
My palm slams onto the floor, steadying myself, but my focus is on the woman who’s all but sprinting away from me…
And the boots on her feet.
I lurch up and don’t think, instinct telling me that if I don’t gonowI won’t ever see her again.
