A dozen or more people milled about, some coming, some going, others seated in lounge areas, chatting or waiting for appointments—I didn’t know which. I spotted a hallway and a bathroom sign to my left and darted toward it, calling to the others that I’d be back in a minute. I raced off to Lex’s laughter.
The relief at finally releasing my bladder almost made me groan, but since I wasn’t alone in the bathroom, I held it back. The angry stream went on for nearly an entire minute, and I closed my eyes, taking ridiculous pleasure in the release of pressure.
Finished, I shook, tucked, and zipped before heading to the elegant line of sinks under gilt-framed mirrors that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Hollywood mansion or Victorian castle. The space was bright and pretentious.
If I needed a sign that CineVision Entertainment was going places, the state-of-the-art building and its swanky décor were enough of an announcement. Even the soap in the dispenser smelled nice, and soap in public bathrooms always smelled like wet Band-Aids.
As I washed my hands, no longer solely focused on a full bladder, I properly registered the guy at the sink beside me, realizing he’d been standing there since I entered. The water at his station ran, but he wasn’t washing his hands. Instead, he clung to the basin like it was the only thing keeping him upright, head dangling between his shoulders, and water dripping off his face like he’d recently splashed it.
When his quaking arms and the chopping rhythm of his inhales and exhales caught my attention, I paused. “Hey, are you okay?”
I knew the signs of a panic attack intimately.
He lifted his head and met my gaze in the bathroom mirror. My breath caught, and it wasn’t because of the tortured look in his eyes.
The man’s pale blond hair was like a hazy morning sun, parted on one side and fine as a feather. He had a straight nose, a few barely visible freckles, and bowed lips with a pronounced divot in the middle of the upper one. But it was his eyes that held me captive. Eyes the color of a rainy afternoon in the fall. Not quite blue but not quite gray.
He said nothing.
Breaking the spell, the stranger looked down into the basin again. He thrust a hand beneath the water and splashed it over ivory cheeks. He wasn’t short, but he wasn’t tall. A scant inch shorter than me, and I didn’t cusp six feet. He wasn’t scrawny but had a fine-boned physique. Trim and with a clothing style that leaned toward preppy. Maybe he was an actor, and I was in the presence of the next Oscar nominee. It was a network studio after all. Who knew?
I doubted it. The guy was either warding off a panic attack or he was sick. Great, my mother would have a fit if I caught a random flu from a stranger in a public bathroom.
The man glanced up again and frowned. “What?”
I realized I’d been staring. “I asked you a question. You didn’t answer.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
He huffed a humorless laugh. “Thanks.”
He refocused on the sink, resuming his original position, clinging to the basin with his head dangling and his face dripping.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t stop staring. Admiring. Absorbing every detail of his physique and facial features. He was… attractive in a subdued sort of way, but it was his evident distress that made it hard to walk away.
The third time he lifted his gaze, I snapped out of it and shut off the water at my sink. Creeping on people was not my style. What the hell was I doing?
I grabbed a few paper towels from a dispenser and aimed for the door, chiding my distracted mind. The guy clearly didn’t want help. Tossing the used towels in the receptacle, I placed my hand on the door, ready to exit, but I glanced back one last time—needing a final look—only to find the guy watching me.
The air crackled with something I couldn’t identify. The fine hairs on my arms stood erect. Water dripped off his lips and eyelashes. More rolled like tears down his cheeks.
The connection lasted seconds before he looked away.
I stared for another beat, taking him in and battling with a sense of wonder and an odd familiarity I couldn’t put my finger on. Did I know this guy? No. I’d never met him before in my life, and I didn’t live near Oklahoma City. Before he caught me staring again, I pushed the door open and left.
I met up with my team near a bank of elevators. Huddled together, the guys chatted in low whispers. Vern waved when he caught sight of me, and Noah shifted so I could join their cluster.
“You’ll never guess who’s here.” Lex’s tone was ripe with indignation.
“Who?”
“Olivia fucking Windrow and her Riders.”
“What?” I whipped my head around, scanning the vast lobby and all its nooks and crannies. Sure enough, within seconds,I spotted Olivia and her group gathered a few feet from the information desk.
I scowled at Vern. “Why are they here?”
