That should have been my mantra before I stepped into these basic four-inch pumps, threw on this red, sparkly knee-length cocktail dress that Mom bought me, and applied a bit of barely there makeup before coming out. Even at college, letting loose wasn’t something I did. I kept my head down and worked hard because it was easier than facing the discomfort of getting to know new people. Of course, it paid off when I graduated with honors, so it’s not all bad. Mind you, I’m still figuring out what I want to do with said education. Somewhere between burying myself in text books and avoiding people, I forgot to firm up my life plan along the way. But working at my mother’s nonprofit is enough of a challenge, and reasonably rewarding. It’s okay for now.
All of a sudden, a weird prickle starts to crawl up my back to the base of my neck as I head to the bar near the front entrance of the massive ballroom. The hairs there stand on end. Goosebumps run up and down my arms. I have the sudden overwhelming sensation that someone in the crowd is watching me. It could be my imagination but the feeling is so intense I start to look around, needing to know who it is if I’m right.
As I make a half turn, a strange excitement comes over me. It’s as if my body is already expecting something epic and monumental to happen. And my weird one-time premonition is immediately confirmed the moment I find myself tumbling into the brilliant blue gaze that can only come from one face. A face I haven’t seen in a long time, and quite frankly one I never expected to lay eyes on ever again.
Especially not up close like this.
Knox Steele.
My heart pounds with a bit of fear, a smidgen of elation, and more anticipation than I thought possible. Knox is a blast from the past. He was my childhood best friend, someone I trusted with all my secrets, and the guy I always thought would be in my life so we could be there for each other.
Until he left for college.
We went from everything to nothing in five seconds flat. It still hurts that he’s not been in my life. And I still don’t know why. From where I was standing, nothing had ended on bad terms, and we didn’t have any bad blood between us. But he cut all ties with me and I never could figure out what I did to cause it. During the first couple of years, I assumed I must have slipped up somehow. Later on, I came to terms with the idea that he outgrew our friendship. Which was tragic for me because I have very few friends. I forced myself to move on. Forced myself to let him go.
And here he is, standing in front of me with what are now sinfully sexy eyes full of broody darkness, that hard, sharp yet handsome face with the scar that adds a heaping dose of mystery and danger to him, and this broad, chiseled, muscular body that ripples with every movement under his tux. How is he here at this event? I thought I’d seen everyone but clearly, I missed one. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to bump into here.
“Isabelle.” Knox knits together his eyebrows as though just seeing my face is confusing to him. That’s fair, because I feel the exact same way about finding him here. “It’s been…a while. I almost can’t believe it’s you.”
My body’s fight-or-flight response is on overdrive. My legs desperately want to turn and run at a million miles an hour, and my fingertips tingle with an unbelievable urge to either slap him in the face or punch him hard in the jaw. But my limbs have gone numb. I can’t move.
“Knox,” I eventually reply, and hear my surprise dripping off my tongue. “Same here. It’s been, well years.”
“It has,” he says quietly. Knox cocks his head to one side as he examines me closely, inspecting me from head to toe, snaking his gaze down my body so slowly that it may as well be his hands. It feels all kinds of wrong because he’s never looked at me this way. I can almost feel his eyes as it meets every inch of me.
“How have you been?” I ask, hoping to direct his eyes back to my face so I can regain the use of my limbs.
“Good. We should catch up soon, if you’d like.”
My eyes narrow. Catch up? I don’t want to catch up. I want to confront him. I want to know why he threw out our friendship like it was yesterday’s trash. I want to hurt him like he hurt me back then when he left without a goodbye and cut me out of his life. I want his heart to hurt, to burn, to crumble, to break into a million pieces with no chance of ever being whole again. Like mine is.
But more than anything, as much as I hate to admit it, I miss him. I miss us. Desperately. I want what we used to have. I want my best friend back. Sure, he was an animal. A cruel beast. But he was my beast.
“I don’t know if you’ll like what happens if we sit down to talk, but sure, I’m game.”
He points back at the bar. “How about a drink?”
“I was just about to leave, but…” I start to explain and hear my voice trailing off. How is it that I neglected to mention I actually was on my way to the bar for my last drink of the night anyway? But I’ve never been a smooth talker, so in spite of no longer wanting to bail on this engagement party, something stops me from adding that last part. Still, this could be one of those once-in-a-lifetime second chances to reconnect. For all I know, after I leave this party tonight, we’ll
