As we locate a table closest to the makeshift stage, I send a cheerful wave to my brother. He spots me, offers me a nod, and pops a pick between his teeth. He’s in the zone.
I set my purse down on the two-person high-top table, assessing the crowd. Families are scattered about, toddler-age children glued to electronic devices while their sleep-deprived parents suck down espresso and attempt to partake in a rare moment of socializing.
My eyes scan the room.
A few college girls, musician types eager to take notes on Tag’s performance, an elderly couple bonding over matcha, and—
I blink. Do a double take.
My jaw drops.
No way.
Shock slices me from chest to toes as I zero in on the familiar man at the back of the room. His attention is fixed on his cell phone, one leg bobbing up and down under the table.
A black hoodie, dark-wash jeans, dirt-smudged boots.
Messy waves of caramel hair and golden-brown eyes to match.
Those eyes lift, flicking in my direction.
Our gazes lock.
I waste no time snatching Kenna by the wrist and hauling her over to the man I never thought I’d see again. Especially not here.
“Whoa, whoa, these heels are not made for marathons,” Kenna huffs out, scampering behind me, trying to keep up. “Are you kidnapping me?”
“No, but he might.” A grin stretches as we near the table.
“Wait, what?”
Chase straightens in place, setting his phone down and skimming a hand through his hair. A silver thumb ring glints beneath the kitschy pendant light.
He looks everywhere but at me, but I can tell by the way his shoulders square, his biceps twitch, and his jaw tightens—he recognizes me.
“Oh my God. You came.” We land at the edge of his table, and I watch as his gaze gradually shifts in my direction, eyes panning up the length of my dress until they settle on my stunned expression.
He swallows, leaning back in his chair, the front legs elevating. “Annie. Hey.”
Kenna makes a face, and we share a look.
She kicks my shin. “Annalise. Are you going to introduce me?”
“Annalise,” Chase repeats, squinting as he reads the room. “No one calls you Annie, do they?”
“You do.” My smile beams brighter; I can’t believe he came. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
The chair legs descend back down to the tile. “I was bored.”
My eyes taper as I recall my final words to him that day before I walked out of his house. Then I clear my throat and turn to my friend. “Um, this is Chase. I told you about him.”
She blinks at me, peers over at Chase. Her gaze dips to his denim-clad thigh, hidden underneath the table, before awareness splashes across her face. “Holy shit. You’re the guy who kidnapped her.”
The elderly couple twist around in their seats, sending us a sanctimonious look.
I finger my assortment of necklaces. “Accidental kidnapping, if we’re getting technical.”
“Dreamy,” Kenna sighs.
