A loaded silence falls over the table. I know what they’re thinking, that I’m one of those women, trapped in a nightmare marriage, looking for an escape. But unlike in my books, there’s no brooding hero waiting to save me. There’s just me, too afraid to leave, too broken to start over.
“What about you, Val?” I ask, eager to move the spotlight off myself. “Why romantasy in general?”
Valerie leans back, considering. “I like the idea that there’s more to the world than what we see. Magic hiding in plain sight. Secret worlds just beyond our reach.” She shrugs. “Plus, who doesn’t want to bang a hot Fae king?”
We laugh, and just like that, the tension dissipates. Mia launches into a defense of her self-help books, explaining how they taught her to set boundaries and value herself after a string of toxic relationships.
“It’s not just about positive thinking,” she insists, waving a piece of sushi for emphasis. “It’s about recognizing your own worth, figuring out what you really want.”
“And what do you want?” Valerie asks, sipping her wine.
Mia’s eyes gleam. “A man who can handle me. All of me. The good, the bad, the crazy.”
“You’ll be waiting a long time,” I tease. “That’s a tall order.”
“Speaking of tall,” Valerie nods toward the entrance. “Check out the eye candy that just walked in.”
I turn, following her gaze, and my heart stutters in my chest. Two men stand by the hostess station, one tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair, the other slightly shorter with a lean build and blonde hair. It’s the taller one that catches my eye, something about the set of his shoulders, the way he stands, sending a jolt of recognition through me.
“That’s my brother,” Mia says, sounding surprised. “Anthony. And his friend Dillian.”
I whip my head back to her. “Your brother?”
“Yeah,” she nods, waving to catch their attention. “He just moved back to town a few months ago. I had no idea he was coming here tonight.”
Anthony. The name settles in my stomach like a stone. Could it be him? The man from the bookstore? My masked man? I study him from across the room, the breadth of his shoulders, the confident stance, the dimple in his chin when he smiles at something Dillian says. It could be him. It could definitely be him. I recognize Dillian too, Officer Reynolds. Good God.
“Should we go say hi?” Valerie asks, already gathering her purse as if the decision has been made.
“Yes!” Mia stands. “I want to introduce you guys. Anthony’s been away for a few years, he hardly knows anyone in town anymore.”
I remain frozen in my seat, mind racing. If it is him, if the man who’s been watching my house, who pinned me to the stairs and made me come apart with just his touch, is Mia’s brother—what does that mean? How much does he know about me from Mia? How much does she know about what he’s been doing?
“Lila? You coming?” Valerie looks back at me, brow furrowed.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice sounding far away to my own ears. “Of course.”
I follow them across the restaurant, my legs moving on their own. Anthony and Dillian have been seated at a high-top near the bar, a pitcher of beer between them. As we approach, Anthony looks up, and our eyes lock.
Something flickers across his face, recognition, surprise, something else I can’t name. In that moment, I know. It’s him. The masked man who’s been haunting my dreams is Mia’s brother.
“Anthony!” Mia exclaims, throwing her arms around him. “What are you doing here?”
He hugs her back, his eyes never leaving mine. “Dillian and I were in the neighborhood. Thought we’d grab a beer.”
“What a coincidence,” she says, pulling back. “Let me introduce you to my friends. This is Valerie, my business partner, and this is Lila, our colleague and resident dark romance addict.”
Valerie shakes his hand first, then steps aside, leaving me face to face with him. He’s even more imposing when I’m not lying on my back, over a foot taller than me, with hazel eyes that seem to see right through me. He extends his hand, and I take it before I can think better of it.
The moment our skin touches, electricity shoots up my arm. His hand engulfs mine, warm and calloused, and he holds on a fraction too long, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a gesture that could be accidental but isn’t.
“Lila,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue like he’s tasted it before. “It’s nice to meet you.”
His voice, that voice, confirms what I already knew. It’s the same one that whispered in my ear on the steps, that called me gorgeous in the bookstore. I should pull away. Should make an excuse and leave. Should tell Mia exactly what her brother has been doing.
Instead, I stare at him, caught in his gaze like a deer in headlights. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Dillian clears his throat, breaking the spell. “And I’m chopped liver, apparently.”
