Without another word or warning, his cousin moved away, disappearing into the darkness.
It took fifteen seconds for Alec’s protective instincts to kick in, because that brain she’d encouraged him to shut down went into overdrive instead, conjuring up storylines straight out of a season of Law & Order SVU. “Fuck,” he muttered, setting his beer bottle on an illuminated coaster. He wasn’t going to be easy unless he had the younger woman in his sights.
Wandering the room presented difficulties. Not just because of the darkness, but the space had filled up so he kept being forced to dodge men who materialized at the last minute in front of him. Maybe they all should have worn the glowing crowns, he thought, or skipped this ordeal altogether. To him, it seemed a particularly stupid way to socialize.
At the door, the person to whom he’d paid the cover charge had babbled something about the lack of light allowing patrons to better appreciate the nuances of the beers and wine on offer. Yeah, right. From the sounds of this crowd, they were using the darkness as an excuse to engage in some very well-oiled merrymaking all in preparation for some vigorous, near-anonymous boinking.
Christ, Alec thought, coming to such an abrupt halt that the person at his back crashed into him, causing him to grab a nearby table to maintain his balance. I do sound like an old fogey.
He had nothing against vigorous, near-anonymous boinking. As a matter of fact, in the past, it was the kind of boinking he’d enthusiastically engaged in.
A hand tugged at the tail of his shirt. “Alec?”
He glanced over his shoulder. A neon-red ring cast a rosy tone to platinum hair. “Tina?” he said, turning carefully in the crowded space to face her.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said.
“No. Well…” Since her arrival, he’d taken pains to put distance between them. Though they’d been exclusive at the time they’d dated, it had been easy to let the relationship go as he was consumed by other, much more pressing concerns. When he’d finally managed to poke his head up again, he’d not even been the slightest bit tempted to call her. He cleared his throat. “Hope you’re having fun during Mom and Dad’s celebration. It was good of you to join in.”
“When my parents said they were booking at The Hathaway for the anniversary week, I rearranged my schedule in order to be here. I work for myself now, so that was easy.”
“Great.” She was an interior designer, and five years before already had been accruing positive word of mouth.
“We used to have such fun times,” she said now, a wistful tone to her voice.
He couldn’t clearly make out the expression on her face, so he wasn’t sure exactly how she meant that. “You’ve been able to catch up with Kane and Jessie and Amber?” In their growing-up years, Tina’s family had joined the Hathaways and the Thatchers on many occasions for barbecues and snow weekends.
“I’ve spoken with them, but those fun times I mentioned were the ones I had with you.” Her hand found his.
Now he was glad for the darkness because it could hide his dismay. Rehashing what they’d had so long ago was as unnecessary as it was uncomfortable. Without addressing her directly, he disengaged their fingers. “I’m looking for Jessie,” he said. “We came together to this thing and I feel responsible for her.”
“Oh,” Tina said. “I can help there. As I was arriving, she was departing.”
“Alone?”
“She was with a couple of other women who seemed to be friends of hers. They were talking about heading to the sauna.”
“Ah.” His purpose evaporated, he considered what excuse he could make next. “I’ve got to—”
“I’ve been wanting to say a few things.” Tina’s words rushed out as she groped for his hand again, squeezed. “Get some closure on what happened with us before, and then…well…”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m aware I sort of…dropped away when you needed me. It wasn’t very mature, of course, and I regret that I couldn’t have been a help to you and your family at that time.”
That time. The past. That heavy shroud materialized, hovering like a threat. He mentally shoved it away. “Tina, this isn’t a conversation we need to have.”
“No, I truly need to apologize.” Another squeeze of his fingers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
Ill-at-ease, he pulled free of her again and slipped his hands into his pockets. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Please. Accept my apology.”
Christ. “All right. Apology accepted. Now if you’ll ex—”
“I thought we could try again.”
He went still. Huh? “Tina…”
“It was good before, wasn’t it? I haven’t forgotten how good. I’d like us to—well, not start over, but carry on, carry forward into a real future.”
Oh, what fresh hell, he thought, grimacing. How best to handle this? She was an old friend. Their parents were still close. But he’d dated her in his mid-twenties and he hadn’t been anywhere close to serious about her then. For her to ambush him now with talk of a “real future” was unthinkable.
Clearing his throat, he tried for diplomacy, despite feeling boxed-in and resenting it like hell. “Tina, that’s a really uh, flattering offer. But it’s not, I’m not…”
“What are you saying?” The note of disbelief in her voice just pissed him off.
“I’m saying no.”
The ensuing silence was loaded. Fuck.
Then she finally sighed. “I worried this might have happened. For the last five years I’ve heard things about you, you know. People have kept me informed.”
Truly puzzled, Alec frowned. “Informed of what?”
“That you have a reputation for…going through women.”
Alec stiffened.
“I hope the way I left you isn’t the reason you turned to that.”
She hadn’t “left” him. Consumed by other matters, he’d quit calling her. End of story. And the women he’d been with since then knew the score. They didn’t consider themselves having been “gone through” or taken advantage of in any way.
“Truly,” Tina continued. “I’d feel terrible if that breakup was the cause of this
