Page 35

MINGLING AND MEDDLING

BELLA

August

“Need any help?” I ask again.

Meg quirks an eyebrow at me, shaking her head.

With a sigh, I admit defeat and prop my hip against the kitchen counter.

She’s so excited to celebrate my return, and though I’m grateful, I’ve never liked being the center of attention. And now, on top of it all, I feel useless.

She sets a tray on the island, then pulls me in for a hug. I put my head on her shoulder, exhaling a long breath. She means well, and that’s all that matters.

“Why are you so impatient?”

I groan. “I’m not impatient. I want to help.”

“This party is for you, so do me a favor and go mingle.”

She pushes me away, and I obey, heading to the backyard, where Marco has set the table.

There are about ten people here so far. I recognize most of them, but I don’t think I’ve ever met the handsome guy who’s sitting on a bench talking to Liz, Meg’s sister.

With a frown, I tilt my head and study him.

He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.

When he smiles at Liz, it finally clicks—Josh Bowman, the center for the NBA’s Boston Bobcats.

He joined the team last season and is absolutely incredible on the court.

He locks eyes with me, and his smile only brightens.

Yeah, that signature smile is definitely why the women of Boston are obsessed with him.

“Ohhhh!” Meg sidles up next to me and nudges my arm. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What is he doing here?” I don’t bother acknowledging her comment.

“Josh and Marco were friends in college. Now that he’s in Boston, they’ve been hanging out.”

Lips pressed together, I nod. Josh Bowman is hot, indeed, and the fact that he doesn’t play football makes him even more attractive. I take a sip of my drink, hiding a smile behind it, but Meg notices right away.

“Why are you smiling?” she asks.

“Just focusing on the good things.” I sit at the table and look up at her. “Reminding myself I can enjoy the evening. My worries will still be here tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl.” She grins, but the expression disappears a second later. “Shoot! I haven’t invited anyone to sit yet. I’m a terrible hostess.”

“You’re definitely not.” With a soft laugh, I pick up my full glass of rosé. I take a sip and sway to the rhythm of the music playing in the background as people make their way to the table.

Okay, I can handle this. Honestly, I’m glad I agreed to come.

“Is this seat taken?” The deep baritone goes right through my body.

I look up, and my eyes instantly lock on Josh Bowman’s gaze. “No. It’s all yours if you want it.”

He breaks into a lopsided grin, a dimple appearing in his right cheek.

He sits and holds out a hand. “I don’t think I’ve met you before. I’m Josh.”

“Isabella.”

“Beautiful name. It’s Italian, right?” He studies me, his chocolate brown eyes full of genuine interest.

Though they’re nothing alike, Xander’s blue-green orbs appear in my mind, the memory of the way he used to look at me the gentlest caress.

Oh my God, I need to snap out of it. So I say the first thing that comes to mind: “Yes, but I’m not Italian. Don’t have even an ounce of Italian blood in me, unfortunately.”

He frowns. “Why is that unfortunate?”

Nerves skitter down my spine, and a laugh bubbles out of me. “I don’t know.”

Feeling Meghan and Marco’s eyes glued to me, I sneak a glance in their direction.

Meg gives me a thumbs-up, while Marco furrows his brow, looking tense.

I don’t have the energy to decipher his expression, so I focus on Josh. “I have no idea why I said that.”

“Happens to me all the time.” He snorts. “It’s probably why Marco and I became friends so quickly. We often say things without thinking.”

“He’s grown up a lot since he and Meg got together.” I take a sip of my wine and then put the glass on the table, telling myself I should eat. If I don’t, the wine will quickly go to my head, and I’m likely to embarrass myself. “How do you like playing for the Bobcats?”

“It’s been great. The guys are like family to me already.” Josh half stands and picks up a bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a drink. “Hoping we make it to the finals this year. I’m chasing my first championship.”

I give him an encouraging smile. “I hope you pull it off.”

Across the table, Meg clears her throat and stands. “We’re so happy you could all be here tonight, and we hope you enjoy dinner!” She raises her glass. “Cheers!”

“Cheers.” I raise my own glass and give her a wink. She kept it simple without making it about me, and I’m grateful.

Just a nice evening with pleasant company.

“Cheers, Isabella,” Josh says.

A thrill shoots up my spine. My name sounds nice on his tongue.

I turn to him and tap my glass against his. “Cheers, Josh.” I bring my wine to my lips, holding his gaze. A warm, anticipatory sensation rises in my chest. It’s been a long time since I’ve been openly admired by a handsome man.

My belly is full, and my cheeks ache. I don’t remember the last time I smiled so much. Through the entire meal, Josh has kept me entertained with his stories and jokes. He’s easygoing and very respectful at the same time.

I can’t deny I’ve ogled him a little. His dimples are hard to ignore. Even his thick stubble doesn’t hide them. His nose is crooked, and though we’ve only just met, I’m already privy to the story behind each of the five times it was broken.

And don’t get me started on how big he is. He’s a wall of muscle, and yet his movements are graceful.

“Which parts of New York did you like the best?” Josh asks, swirling his whiskey, the amber liquid sloshing against the glass.

“Central Park.” The answer is easy. If there’s one place I’d recommend in the Big Apple, it’s there.

“Only Central Park?” He chuckles.

“Bethesda Terrace,” I muse. “Culture Espresso, a coffee bar near Bryant Park. The Met.”

Memories of my time in New York flash in my head, filling my heart with melancholy.

“Those are my favorite places, but honestly, I love everything about the city. The Top of the Rock has the best view in all of New York. Up there, I felt like I could do anything.”

He studies me with his eyebrows knit together. “Why’d you move back?”

“My program ended, and my internship in Santa Clara doesn’t start until May. I figured I’d spend some time with my family and friends before moving across the country.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “I did the same, spent as much time with my parents as I could before I moved to Boston.”

“I’m not close with my parents,” I say. The wine has clearly loosened my tongue. “Only my cousin and my aunt.” I shrug.

Not that it stops my mother from sending messages here and there, just to make sure I know I’m a useless whore who ruined her marriage and her perfectly organized life.

Coincidentally, Kevin’s life only improved once he left her.

Or it was beginning to before I blocked him.

For a while, I ignored his occasional messages.

He never bombarded me with texts or got angry.

I don’t think he expected me to respond.

My best guess is, it was his way to keep me close without putting in too much effort.

Not that it would’ve been fruitful regardless.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

His words put a smile on my face. “I appreciate it, but how about we change the subject? I don’t know why I even brought up my family.”

“Gladly,” Josh murmurs, leaning in.

When his arm brushes mine, I’m suddenly very aware of how close we are.

“Any chance you’d want to meet for coffee? To talk about more pleasant stuff? Not family related, of course.”

A snort escapes me before I can stop it. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

He cocks a brow. “Why not?”

“My track record when it comes to players—to athletes—isn’t all that great.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he says. His tone is quiet, genuine.

“It’s fine. Those experiences definitely made me stronger.”

He hums. “You’re incredible.”

Warmth blossoms in my chest. “Thank you.”

Meg stands, her eyes on me. It’s the interruption I need to have a moment to myself. This man is far too charming for my own good.

“I’m going to see if Meg needs help.”

“Sure.” He nods, his focus intent on me as I stand and follow Meg into the house.

“Do you need my help?” I ask as I step into the kitchen.

She chuckles, a sly smile spreading across her face. “What do you think about Josh?”

“He’s nice.” With a shrug, I steal a cherry from the pie on the table and pop it into my mouth. “I’m mingling, like you told me to.”

“The poor guy can’t look away from you.” Head lolling back, she laughs.

My cheeks burn. I avert my gaze and reach for another cherry, but she slaps my hand away.

“Hey!” I pout.

“ Hey ,” she mimics, moving the pie away from me. “You’re ruining the presentation.”

“I am not.” I dart around her and snatch another cherry before she can stop me. With a satisfied grin, I put it in my mouth. “Delicious.”

“You’re acting like a little kid,” she huffs, though she’s smiling.

“Or maybe you’ve forgotten how to relax.”

She shakes her head, her eyes dancing. “New York was definitely good for you, Izzy.”

Marco steps into the kitchen, eyes darting around nervously.

Meg frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He plasters on a fake-as-hell smile. “I came to grab another plate.”

“Why do you need another plate?” She puts her hands on her hips.

Marco’s strange behavior instantly sets me on edge, and uneasiness rolls through me.

“We have a latecomer.” He saunters to the cupboard, turning his back to us.

“You didn’t,” Meg hisses through clenched teeth.

“I thought it was a good idea.” Marco clears his throat, and when he turns around, he’s holding his head high. “He’s one of my closest friends.”

She gives her head a slow shake. “Izzy, I’m so sorry. If you want to leave, I totally understand.”

I sigh, mentally bracing myself for the confrontation I worried was inevitable.

Really, this is good. We’re not in public, but we’re not alone either. And though I was just now made aware of what’s about to happen, it’s better than being caught totally off guard.

“No, it’s fine. I knew this would happen eventually.”

She nods, and then looks at Marco, who’s standing frozen in the middle of the kitchen, a plate in his hand, his eyes darting between us.

“No sex for you, Marco Garcia?—”

“What!” he yelps.

“—for a whole week, maybe two.” She snatches the pie off the table and strolls out of the kitchen. “I haven’t decided yet.”

I follow, worried if we’re alone together, he’ll come in and try to engage. I came here to have a good time, and I intend to continue doing just that.

The moment I step outside, my focus narrows on Xander. It’s instinct. He’s looking at me too. It’s as if we’re the only people here. The only people in existence.

He gives me a slow once-over, his lip caught between his teeth. His hairstyle hasn’t changed. It’s still messy on top and short on the sides. His pupils are dilated, making his blue eyes with green flecks look darker, more alluring.

Under his heated gaze, a fire forms in my lower abdomen, so strong and so, so familiar. Heat spreads through my veins, scorching me from head to toe. The impulse, the attraction, is still there, but this time I won’t let myself give in.

I nod in greeting before I stride back to my seat. Josh’s posture is tense, but as I settle beside him, he inches closer, smiling. He zeroes in on my mouth.

“You have a little something on your bottom lip.”

“Oh God.” Cheeks heating, I swipe my tongue along the length of my lip. “Better?”

“You’re all good.” His voice cracks, his focus still fixed on my mouth. His cheeks look as red as mine feel. “It was intense, wasn’t it?” He clears his throat. “You and Xander.”

I ignore the commotion as our friends stand to greet Xander, and Marco guides him to a seat a few down from me. Instead, I smile sheepishly at Josh.

“This is the first time we’ve seen each other since our breakup. There’s no other reason it should be ‘intense.’” I use air quotes on the last word, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Good.” With a chuckle, Josh picks up his drink.

Smiling in return, I tap my glass against his. “Good.”

Whether Xander is here or not, I’m determined to enjoy my night.