“I need to get away from them,” I tell him.
“Of course,” he says, then brings my hand to his lips and places a soft, but intimate kiss on my knuckles before flashing me the most wicked smile I’ve ever seen. “Well then, Teagan. Let’s get out of here before your friends ambush you. Or worse—our host.”
My eyes widen as I take in his words before I glance around the room nervously. I forgot the strange voice in the escape room claimed to be the author himself. I’m not sure if I care to meet the person who thinks it’s appropriate to throw that kind of thing at strangers he invited here.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we get back in time for the real party to start. Now follow me,” the stranger insists as he pulls me behind him with a quick pace.
We leave the main room and bob and weave through hallways, leaving the gawking faces, noise, and chatter behind us, but most importantly, losingthemin the process.
The stranger pulls us to a pair of double doors and opens them with a flourish. The cool, crisp air caresses my skin like a phantom kiss. The sweet floral air impregnates my senses in the most calming way, leaving me breathless as the rage I felt just moments ago dissipates around me. My toes are greeted with plush green grass, and I realize that I left my shoes on the dark staircase in the room that destroyed everything I’ve ever counted on.
No, I don’t want the memory of that to follow me out here. I take a deep breath, and I let my mind empty. There’s something about fresh, unmasked air that has always had that effect on me. I stand in the garden with my eyes closed, just taking in the serenity of it all.
A loud pop from a champagne bottle nearly startles me out of my skin. I bring my hand to my chest as I spin around towards the assaulting noise.
“Sorry,” the handsome stranger says with a shrug that makes me feel as though his disruption was purposeful. I narrow my eyes at him as he pours the bubbly into two flutes that have magically appeared out of nowhere. “I snagged these during our getaway.”
I cross my arms as the breeze skates across my bare skin. This dress might be gorgeous, but it does nothing to protect me from the natural elements. I feel stupid for not bringing something warmer to wear. Then again, I wasn’t supposed to be out here in the garden. I’m supposed to be inside with my best friends, meeting our favorite author.
The blue-eyed Adonis saunters over with two glasses in his hands. “I know you probably have nothing to celebrate at the moment,” he sayswith a sigh. “But how about we forget everything that happened inside and get drunk while exploring the garden,” he suggests, handing me one of the flutes. “Unless you want to talk about it? I’m not much for advice, but I’m sure I can whip up an inspirational quote or two to get you through the night.”
I don’t know what I expected him to say, but that was definitely not it. A small chuckle escapes my lips as I tip my glass to his. “No inspirational quotes necessary. A punching bag would be nice, though,” I confess before taking a sip of the champagne. It’s crisp, sweet, and pleasantly chilled as it slides down my throat. “But I have some questions before I abandon all my common sense and disappear into a poorly lit garden with a strange man I only met hours ago.” I look him up and down and feel a strange thrill of excitement as I watch him take a sip of his own drink. His lips are very distracting with their perfect fullness and pointed cupid’s bow.
Those same lips flip upward into a playful smirk as he steps closer to me. “What would you like to know?”
I gaze up into those haunting blue eyes again and swallow hard as they flick down to my lips. “What’s your name?”
“Ah,” he says, one of his brows arching in jest. “I told you I’d tell you my name at dinner. Did I not?”
“And what if this is my dinner?” I hold up the champagne flute before taking another sip. I don’t know if I can go back into that room after the humiliating scene I just made.
He must read my thoughts because his expression shifts into something softer. “Then I guess I would be honor-bound to fulfill my oath,” he says playfully while he holds out his arm for me. “My name is Quinn Gibson.”
I thread my arm through his and relish the warmth of him. “Well then, I guess I have to let you give me a tour through the gardens. Now don’t I, Quinn Gibson.”
“My friends typically just call me Quinn.”
I raise an eyebrow at him as we walk deeper into the blooming garden. The moonlight illuminates it just enough that I don’t feel like we are in any real danger, while still being dark enough to enjoy the company of this strange and mysterious man.
“Are we friends now?”
Quinn stops and faces me, his free hand taking mine. “I’d like to be.”
Maybe it’s the champagne. Or perhaps it’s the fact that I not only lost Josh, but also Lexi and Capri. But right now, all that drama and pain fades away as I stare into Quinn’s eyes. Something about him feels right. Safe, even. And I know how foolish that makes me after everything I’ve learned tonight.
Those things don’t seem to matter anymore, at least not in this second. All that matters is the burning desire and rush of excitement as I yearn to place my lips against his.
Maybe I don’t need my friends to enjoy this trip after all. Maybe what I really need—what I deserve—is to let go of my heartache and throw all my inhibitions out the window and let this tall, gorgeously mysterious man have his way with me out here in this beautiful garden.
I scoff at my own thoughts and earn another raised eyebrow from Quinn. “Care to share what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Oh, nothing much,” I tell him as a blush storms across my cheeks. I tip the remainder of the champagne into my mouth and swallow it slowly as I savor the last few drops. “I’m just thinking that I’ve never been one to let myself swoon over a mysteriously handsome man in the middle of a fantasy-esque garden.” I quickly glance at his lips again, wishing I were exactly that type of girl. The one who was brazenly confidentenough to lean in and press my lips to his and let the troubles of tonight flow away.
But I can’t look at Quinn and let myself feel these types of urges for him without thinking of Josh. The revelation that he’s been having an affair with my best friend has punctured me too deeply to ignore.
So, instead, tears start crashing down like a tidal wave, and there is no escaping them. My body spasms and convulses as the reality of what happened tonight finally hits. There’s no drug to get over a broken heart. You can stave it off temporarily by immersing yourself in a new friend, a beautiful garden, or even a glass of bubbly champagne. But there is nothing that can stop the full magnitude of your brain catching up with your heart after a momentous betrayal like this.
Quinn grabs the empty glass from my hand and leads me to a stone bench sitting at the base of a small pond while I struggle to catch my breath.
