I shrugged. “Probably not.”
For the next couple of hours, book club was forgotten. They dug in, asking me question after question. Only after I’d promised, on threat of never reading smut again, to let them help me pick my next date did we go to sleep.
Eames and Olly didn’t leave the apartment, and we all fell asleep in the living room despite it being a workday. The next morning Lithie had to head out to the desert, and Olly and Eames had to go in earlier to finish up an experiment, so I waited in line at Tropes alone.
Limerence,that was all this was.
Infatuation.
From years of being sick and stuck in bed, I’d developed a bad habit of maladaptive daydreaming. I worked through most of it in therapy, but maybe so many years stuck in bed stuck it into my bones.
There was nothing between me and Void save limerence.
That was the entire point: avoid attachments, have fun without pain. No relationships, because that would only end badly.
I’d never see him again, and that was a good thing.
“Are you in line?” a voice asked, drawing me out of my thoughts and into the moment.
His voice was deep, deeper than I’d ever imagined a voice could be, and rough-edged. It brought to mind dark, mysterious caves and cragged mountain cliffs. Angry, white-water waves crashing against those cliffs.
Things that were innate, powerful.
“Oh, no,” I said. “Just waiting.” As I stepped more clearly out of line, someone rammed into my back. I fell forward, my phone jolting out of my grip. The mysterious man with the hot voice steadied me and, with insane reflexes, caught my phone before it fell.
Whoever had bumped into me didn’t notice. A group of guys who couldn’t be older than mid-twenties, with frat-boy hair. They were laughing at something one of them said when, still holding my elbow, the deep-voiced man grabbed the person who’d bumped into me by the collar.
“What the hell?” Frat Boy exclaimed.
“Watch where you’re going.” His voice was edged.
Frat Boy’s brows caved, looking at me. “Sorry, man.”
After a moment, jaw clenched, he let them go.
I blinked up into his eyes. I was only five-four, so pretty much anyone was taller than me, but I had to crane my neck all the way back to see his eyes—a deep, dark blue.
“Um…thanks,” I said.
I couldn’t stop staring. There was something oddly familiar about him. But I would remember someone who looked likethat.
His features were aristocratic. Angular nose with a slight bump, high cheekbones, and a square jaw. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, making it appear even sharper.
“Have we met?” I asked.
He arched a brow. “I think I would remember you.”
As if realizing he was still holding me, he stepped off. He gave me a peculiar, almost knowing smile, then went to order his drink. I stared after, stunned.
“Morally Gray?” the barista called out.
I blinked back into reality, pulling out my card and heading up to the counter to pay.
“Oh, no worries,” the cashier said, waving me off with a smile. “The man before you paid it forward.”
I turned to find him to say thank you, but caught only the glimpse of his dark, tailored suit disappearing into the morning.
chapter
