So much for making a good first impression. Second impression? First-second impression?
Whatever. I was totally off-balance.
He smiled, but his eyes didn’t light. “Yes. I mean now. There’s a private room?”
“Yeah.” I cringed at my stunted vocabulary, but also because I was just beginning to notice that something was off. There was an uneasiness that I couldn’t place. An edginess.
But maybe that was just the time that had passed between us. I forced a smile. “Follow me.”
He took slow steps toward me, and I blushed for who knows what reason, so I spun away, noting Liesl’s waggle of her brows as I started toward the staircase. We walked up in silence, and I began to worry. Worried that we wouldn’t get past the awkwardness. Worried that I still wouldn’t have words when we were finally alone. Worried that my ass didn’t look good in my dress pants.
Worried about the undercurrent of tension that was only partly sexual.
I’d spent months wondering if I’d imagined the way it had been with JC, questioning if my feelings for him had been exaggerated and if a relationship was realistic considering how little we knew about each other. I’d thought I’d just need to see him again to know, thought that I’d see him and I’d be at ease. But now I was more uncertain than ever.
We’d be alone soon, though, and maybe that would sort everything out. I hoped.
The private rooms—bubble rooms, as they were called—were the highlight of The Sky Launch. Circular in shape and completely enclosed, several of them lined the upper level with a glass wall that looked out over the dance floor below. I took him to the closest room and held the door open for him. I held my breath as he walked in, preparing myself for the shock that would inevitably shudder through my body as he brushed past me.
Except he didn’t brush past me.
He stood far enough away that when he stepped in, he didn’t touch me at all. If our roles had been reversed, I would have brushed. I would have moved in close and made it seem casual but it would have been on purpose simply because it had been so long and every cell in my being was aching for contact.
If his feelings mirrored mine at all, he would have had to touch me too.
So when he didn’t brush against me, I knew that the tension I felt was real and stronger than I’d wanted to admit. Knew that it wasn’t just awkwardness but a deliberate restraint on his part.
Every ounce of hope evaporated, replaced with sheer and utter disappointment. Were we over then? Was this a goodbye visit meant only to bring closure?
Well.
I’d pretend it didn’t bother me, here in front of him, anyway. But later…later I would die of heartache.
I held back at the door long enough to take a deep, shaky breath. Then I moved to sit across from him, letting the fabricated wood of the table be the latest barrier between us. There was always something, wasn’t there? Always distance. Always a secret. Always a barrier.
But his gaze pierced into me as it had downstairs, and despite the underlying strain, the air remained charged around us.
Jesus, I was confused. When it came to him, what else was new?
We sat together inside that electric field, wordless and heavy. I was the first to break the silence, not able to stand it any longer. “You always did have a way of getting into clubs before the doors were unlocked.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I like surprising you.”
I wanted it to mean he liked me. I was afraid it didn’t. I forced an apprehensive smile.
At the same time, he grew somber. “But I apologize if it’s a bad time. I didn’t think, and I needed to come get this over with.”
My belly felt hollow, like it had been carved out with a knife. Get this over with. Get me over with. Like I was an item on his task list.
“Sure,” I said, pretending I hadn’t just been gutted. “It’s fine.” We were over and he’d come to tie loose ends. He’d shattered me, but I was fine. I’d be fine.
“Good.” He seemed satisfied with my response, letting his body relax into the seat.
He studied me for another moment, intensely. “Your hair is darker.”
Numbly, I pulled a strand out to look at it, as if I didn’t see it every day in the mirror. I’d worn the dirty blonde shade since he’d left and was now accustomed to it. “Yeah. I needed a change.”
I snuck a glance at him. He was still so goddamned sexy. Still so wickedly hot that just the sight of him made me tingle in places I’d forgotten he could arouse. I wished I could dull my lust as easily as I could my locks, with just a trip to the salon.
“It looks good.” He cleared his throat. “You look good.”