The man is massive, like a Viking, built with wide shoulders and a thick neck. His scent is like leather and cigar smoke, a slight hint of cedar and hemlock. And there’s a presence about him I can’t quite wrap my head around. It’s powerful without words, like his aura is made of steel.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my heart slamming against my ribcage. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. I—”
He doesn’t say anything. He only looks down at me and huffs under his breath. It’s a hard, gruff growl that sends a surprising shock between my legs. He’s studying me, looking over my face as though he’s a hungry bear and he’s deciding whether or not I’m prey.
Am I imagining this?Maybe I’ve finally lost my mind, and this man doesn’t even exist. Or maybe it was me downing the mason jar margaritas and I’m passed out in the stairway.
The man huffs again, this time lowering his head, a strand of dark hair falling into his vision. “Can you move?”
Unnerved, I slide to the side quickly, letting the breeze from his massive body cool me as he walks past.
What the hell is happening? Every bone in my body feels like it might break, and my head is pounding hard as I make my way back out into the main bar area, the roar from the band and the crowd dulling the response I just had.
Lucy is already sitting at a table, far away from the polo guy. I’m guessing it didn’t go as planned.
I grab another drink from the bar, then make my way toward her. “What the hell?”
“He’s not interested.” Her face is blazing as though she already knows it’s his loss.
“What do you mean, he’s not interested? Everyone is interested in you.”
She nods, pulling up another sip of her drink, this time with a straw. “Not him. I put my tits in his face, I flipped my hair back, I did the cute little girl voice, but nothing. He just looked at me and shook his head.”
My brows narrow. “Maybe he’s married.”
“He’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“I asked.”
“You asked?”
“Yeah, when he said no, I asked follow-up questions.”
“So then, why did he say no?”
“Apparently, he’s not into brunettes. As if that’s a real answer. He sounded European. I bet that had something to do with it. I hear they like their women with no curves. Obviously, I can’t help him there.” She laughs and rolls her eyes, smoothing her hand over her thick hips before dipping a chip from the center of the table for some salsa. “Anyway, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”
I suck in a deep breath and grab a chip for myself. “That guy… the one that was staring at me on the street, the one that looked like Max… he’s here. I just ran into him… literally ran into him when I was coming out of the bathroom.”
“Fuck.Did he say anything?”
“Yeah, he told me to get the fuck out of his way.”
“Okay.” She takes another sip of her drink. “So, what do you think? Is he some weirdo stalker? Should we call the cops?”
I let out a sigh. “No. I think maybe I’m crazy.” I glance toward the bar. “Look, there he is. Really, you don’t think he looks like Max?”
Lucy stares toward him, her eyes wide, her jaw slacking. “He’s looking at you.”
I hold my gaze forward, not wanting to look toward the man. “What do you mean he’s looking at me?”
She keeps staring. “I mean, he’s burning a hole in your skull with his eyes.”
“So does he look like Max or am I imagining it?”
“We should get out of here,” she says, grabbing her bag from behind her chair.
