“Simon!” I shouted.
But he couldn’t hear me over the roar of the music, and soon, we were separated by a few dozen people. I spun around, panic seizing me. I needed to get out of here. Bending over, I clutched my stomach and squeezed my eyes shut.
Strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around as a someone landed hard on the floor where I’d just been hunched over. I let out a small gasp, and then I realized my body was pressed against a wall of muscle.
Slowly, I lifted my head, and the breath rushed from my lungs.
It was the mystery man.
Fear strangled my ability to speak, and I was paralyzed, unable to shove him away and run—which was exactly what my mind was screaming at me to do.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
The noise and chaos around me dulled to a low hum, making it too easy to hear him. And good God, that voice—it could melt the polar ice caps.
All I could manage was a nod. I was lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes, mesmerized by his presence. His arms were still around me, holding me to him. Tingles shot through me, and my pulse was like a jackhammer, pounding against every nerve ending in my body. Fear gave way to something else, something just as primal.
He stared down at me, his eyes darkening, and there was something in his gaze… something intimately familiar, like he knew me. But I was positive I didn’t know him and had never known him, because he wasn’t the kind of guy I’d so easily forget.
“Chloe!” Simon shouted.
The guy’s body tensed, and I swore his chest rumbled with a throaty growl.
I spun around. “I’m right here,” I said.
Simon stopped and tilted his head. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I nodded. “I’m fine. I promise. I would’ve been crushed in the mosh pit if this guy hadn’t saved me.”
I glanced over my shoulder to thank the mystery man, but he was gone. I turned in a full circle, hoping he’d simply moved away from Simon, but the guy was gone. Vanished. My heart sank.
Simon put his hands on my shoulders before dragging his palms down my arms and lacing our fingers. “I was worried maybe I lost you.”
“Nope, you’re still stuck with me.” I forced a laugh.
“Then I’m the luckiest guy here.” He flashed a grin.
I smiled back, and the tension that had been sitting on my chest lifted. We squeezed our way back to the VIP section and watched the rest of the concert.
But as much as I wanted to enjoy the show, I was distracted, constantly glancing around for the guy who’d rescued me. I really wanted to see him again, and that need grew as the night progressed until it was a physical thing clawing at my insides.
CHAPTER EIGHT:
Déjà vu
CHANDELIERS DRAPED IN CRYSTALS THAT GLITTERED like diamonds hung from the ceiling, and soft candlelight flickered over the banquet hall, giving the room an intimate atmosphere. I ran my hand over the royal blue, silk tablecloth. My gold rimmed dinner plate sat empty in front of me, and my Swarovski champagne glass had barely a sip remaining.
The food had been exquisite, and I devoured it, despite the stern looks from my father and Larissa. Too bad I couldn’t have seconds—I’d make them disappear, too. The prime rib had been so tender I hadn’t needed a knife to slice through it, and the seasoned rice was cooked to perfection.
The woman who stood at the front of the room continued to drone on about the local children’s hospital and how “your donations can save lives.” I wasn’t listening as intently as I probably should be, but I also didn’t have money to donate, so I wasn’t really her target audience. I was only here because I’d made a deal with Dad and Larissa.
Finally, the woman stopped talking, and the music resumed. Couples moved toward the dance floor while many others headed toward the donation table. I remained seated.
Now that dinner was over and Larissa had her checkbook in her hand, I hoped we’d leave soon. After being out late last night, and then not sleeping thanks to dreams about a certain dark-haired mystery man, all I wanted to do was go home, change into comfy pajamas, and pass out.
“I’m going to go use the restroom,” I said to Dad, excusing myself from the table.
My heels clicked against the marble floor, and I mentally cringed with each step. Why did I have to wear such noisy shoes? I glanced around, positive everyone was staring, but I might as well have been invisible for all the attention I was getting. Story of my life.
Despite the terrible shoes, this dress was amazing. Strapless, fitted black, floor length silk nicely accentuated my hips. The material was cool against my skin, and I hadn’t needed the matching, sheer wrap that Larissa had insisted on buying.
I pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the bathroom, if it could be called that. It was more like a full-service spa. A woman dressed in a black suit nodded at me and smiled. Then, she escorted me to an empty stall, holding the door for me.
Hesitantly, I entered. She wasn’t going to follow and offer to help, was she? Thankfully, she closed the door, and the rubber soles of her shoes squeaked across the floor as she retreated.
I blew out a breath. That was uncomfortable. Malibu was like an entirely different world. I quickly did my business and walked out of the stall before the attendant decided to “help” me again.
When I approached the row of sinks, the same woman was there waiting for me. She turned on the water and then held out a bottle of soap. I stared at her, unsure what to do. Slowly, I extended my hand, and she squirted a heap of foamy soap into my palm.
“Thanks.” I smiled and washed my hands.
As soon as I was finished,
