I bite my lip. “I love how you play with psychological profundity.”
He beams at me. “Thank you. You’re very insightful.”
Uh huh. I eye him and he moves closer.
“Ayla?”
I turn at the deep voice behind me. “Carson!” I widen my eyes. “Hi.”
Carson frowns at Xander, then looks back at me. “Hi. I didn’t expect to run into you here.”
“Rachel’s very interested in Xander’s work.” I gesture to my cousin.
“Hi, Carson,” she says, her tone like cardboard.
His lips tighten fractionally. “Nice to see you, Rach.”
He and my cousin/best friend were also good friends, after the years Carson and I were together. But no more. Rachel’s on my side.
“And this is Emma,” he adds, turning to the woman with him. “Emma, Ayla and Rachel.”
I give Emma a look that I hope is completely neutral. “Hello.”
“And I’m Xander.” Xander’s grin for Emma is even bigger. “Hello. Thank you for coming.” He shakes her hand, ignoring Carson.
The difference between the two men is striking. Carson towers over all of us and eclipses Xander with his muscled body, wearing jeans and an oatmeal turtleneck sweater that stretches across his broad shoulders. His chiseled jaw is shadowed with stubble, there are glints of bronze in his brown hair, and his hazel eyes are a storm of color: brown, green, and gold.
I may have been attracted to him at one time. Objectively, he’s… hot. But I’m no longer interested in him.
Carson arches an eyebrow at Xander, then looks back at me.
Our eye contact clashes but I keep my face as neutral as I can. “I didn’t expect to see you here, either,” I say coolly. “Art galleries were never your thing.”
He’s an athlete. He’s into sports and working out and watching dumb comedy movies. Not psychological profundity.
He shrugs.
“I invited him,” Emma says. She turns to Xander. “I admire your work.”
“Thank you.”
“What did you think of the windows series?” Rachel asks Emma.
“Love it. EspeciallyIn the City. It really captures that sense of being alone while surrounded by millions of people.”
Ugh. Of course she has to be smart and beautiful. “So true,” I say. “Loneliness doesn’t necessarily require physical solitude. It’s more an absence of connection. An inability to find intimacy.”
Both of Carson’s thick eyebrows shoot up. I give him a toothy smile. He lifts his glass to his mouth and takes a sip of red wine. I think his lips twitch.
“And in the end, we all die alone,” Xander adds.
I give Carson a pointed look. “True.”
His jaw clenches. “Sometimes, we live alone, too.”
Our eye contact holds for a few heated seconds, then I glance over at Emma.
“I like your sweater,” she says to me. “It looks so… comfortable.”
