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“There’s nothing to tell, really. We had a few drinks, we danced, and… I may have… kissed him. That’s it!”
It wasn’t anywhere near as much detail as I had replaying in my mind from that moment, but it was the gist of what happened.
A shiver runs down my spine as I remember the strength of his hands gripping my waist, the softness of his lips, and the sheer electricity histouch sent surging through every nerve ending in my body when he pulled me up against him.
Angela cackles. “It sure didn’t look like that was it when I saw you at the bar! All cosied up, holding hands, he was nuzzling your neck like he couldn’t get enough of you! I was like, alriiiiiiight, get it, girl!”
Carter and I burst out laughing at Angela’s animated expressions, but inside, my stomach twists into a knot.
Why can’t I remember a single thing that Angela just described?
I remember the kiss, and the way the room started spinning when he kissed me back. I remember his hands, his sweat, and that delicious sandalwood scent of him. The taste of him. I remember leaving the dance floor and going back to the bar. But that’s where it ends.
Was he holding my hand?
I press my hands together, rubbing my left palm with my fingers, wishing the sensation would bring back a memory.
“Have you heard from him since?” Angela asks.
“No. But I don’t think he actually has my number.”
“No number’s not an excuse,” Carter chimes in. “That’s what DMs are for.”
Angela and I both turn to glare at him.
“And just how many DMs do you slide into on a daily basis, Carter?” Angela shoots at him.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” he says. “I’m a happily taken man, remember?” He winks.
I laugh at the both of them, shaking my head.
Carter shrugs as Angela turns her attention back to me. “So, what now?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. Avoid him at all costs for the time being.”
Angela shakes her head vigorously. “No fucking way! Comeon, Lila! You finally get close to the guy you’ve been swooning over fortwo bloody years! And now you want to avoid him? Nuh-uh, no way! We’re coming up with a plan!”
“A plan? Not a chance!” I exclaim. “I came in a wholehourearly today to make sure I didn’t run into him.”
“Why? You can’t avoid him forever! I say you go up there right now and talk to him. He probably feels the same way!”
My stomach clenches and churns at the thought. “I don’t know, Angie. What if he regrets it? What if he thinks it was a mistake?”
Carter lets out a chuckle under his breath.
Choosing to ignore him, Angela continues. “Hey, if heisgoing to be a dick about it, at least you’ll know you’re better off without him! But I have a feeling….” She pauses, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Let’s just say… If what I saw Friday night was anything to go by, I highly doubt that is the case.”
I force a tiny smile, trying not to give away the fact that my pulse is racing and my palms dampen with sweat. I’ve spent the entire weekend convincing myself that I had messed up, that the evening had been my one and only chance with him, and it was over, and I would have to resign myself to a life of wistful longing.
But Angela’s phrase, “like he couldn’t get enough of you,”was playing on an endless loop in my brain. The thought that he might want me as much as I want him seems impossible, but still… even the idea of it leaves me feeling breathless and dreamy.
I shake my head, blocking out Angela’s mischievous grin, and focus back on the screen, where the Instagram analytics page is glowing with promising numbers.
“Anyway,” I say, my voice more composed than I feel. “The opening was amazing. The posts you put up on Saturday have nearly shattered our engagement records, and comments are still rolling in.” I flick over to the next post, grateful to have the distraction from my thoughts. “We need to capitalise on the momentum, personal responses to comments, strategic shares to influencer accounts, keep the conversation alive.”
And definitelynotthink about whether I’ll ever get to feel Marcus’s lips on mine again.
Chapter 17