He only watched as she turned and walked toward the exit, leaving him standing in the middle of the bar with nothing but the echo of their dance and the chaos she’d set loose inside him.
He didn’t understand what the hell was happening to him.
Why he felt this way around her, why she unraveled him so easily.
CHAPTER 53
The heat pressed down from early morning. The air was thick, humid, and clinging to the skin. Nina stood in the shade of a white tent the volunteers had set up near the finish line, handing out water to the marathon runners. The race was a fundraiser for cardiac rehabilitation for children—something far more personal to her than just another charity event. She knew all too well what it meant to fight for someone’s health.
The plastic bottles had long since lost their chill, but the runners still accepted them gratefully. Sweat streamed down their faces, their shirts stuck to their backs, their breath came ragged—yet none of them stopped. Each fought for their next yard.
Nina picked up another bottle. Her fingers felt the thin sheen of moisture on the plastic. She extended it toward the next runner, and as his fingers brushed hers, she automatically lifted her gaze.
For a second—maybe two—time stopped.
Jasper stood in front of her.
His breath came hard and fast, his chest rising and falling in a sharp rhythm. His face was flushed from the run, hair tousled, sweat beading at his temples. But most dangerous of all was his look. It caught her, held her, and in that instant, the noise around them faded away. It was like they were back in the dim bar, slow jazz pulsing, nothing existing except the way he looked at her.
Her fingers were still touching his. She felt the warmth of the plastic heating between them.
Jasper looked away first. He jerked the bottle from her hand and stepped back. Nina’s throat tightened; her breath stumbled. She wanted to say something, anything, but no words came. He glanced at her again—briefly—and his eyes held something like surprise, tension… maybe regret?
Or she imagined it.
What was wrong with her?
Why did his presence strip her defenses so easily?
She inhaled deeply, steadying her breath, reached for another bottle, and handed it to the next runner. But her thoughts drifted back—to the bar, to their strange dance, to the kiss that almost happened.
“You’re here too?” she heard herself say suddenly, as if someone else had spoken for her.“Didn’t expect to see you.”
He looked up at her. His breathing had almost evened out, his expression relaxed—but his eyes were still too tight, almost troubled.
“I run every year,” he said simply.“It’s atradition.”
Her mouth felt dry.
“I volunteer every year,” she replied, passing water to an exhausted runner.“Strange we’ve never crossed paths.”
It truly was strange. They could have walked past each other for years without noticing. And fate brought them together only when she’d been at the darkest point of her life. As if it had all been inevitable.
Jasper lifted a brow.
“Maybe you were just trying not to notice me,” he said with a faint smirk. But something sharp flickered behind his eyes, the same tension that made her chest tighten painfully.
They fell silent.
Just stared at each other.
And the air between them grew dense, almost palpable, the same heaviness as in the bar. The same slow pull that made her want to step closer and run away at the same time.
Nina offered another bottle to a runner. But Jasper was still there. Still not leaving.
“Lynn’s here too,” he said suddenly, taking a sip from his bottle.“Somewhere behind me. We bet who’d finish first. Looks like I won.”
Nina forced a small smile. And again came that cold pinch under her ribs—that instinct to avoid, escape, hide. She still didn’t know how to look Lynn in the eye.
