Page 117 of Devious Love

Because there’s no fucking way it’s her.

Or is it?

The woman at the table by the window, with her laptop open and her fingers flying over the keyboard, is wearing a light blue shirt, unbuttoned in a way that makes the swells of her full breasts visible even from where I’m standing. Her focus is trained on the screen, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth in an eerily familiar way.

I can’t move.

I can’t fucking breathe.

Mia Ashton is here, at my usual coffee shop. She’s so fucking stunning, just the sight of her enough to knock me on my ass. For a moment, my brain glitches, and I forget how to move, how to talk, how to do anything other than stare.

Four years and seven months of no contact. Four years and three months since the last time I saw her from afar.

And now, she’s here, like an apparition come to haunt me.

I shake my head, clearing the fog from my mind, and peer at the door. For a second, I consider walking out, consider just continuing with my day as if this didn’t happen.

In the end, my curiosity wins out. Her presence alone pulls me in, like we’re opposing magnets.

I’ve only taken a couple of steps when she looks up. Those deep blue eyes lock with mine, and the world around us ceases to exist. The café fades, along with the people milling about and the music playing overhead. All I see is this girl.

This girl who, when she was mine, was my whole universe. And now, as I drink her in, I know that hasn’t changed.

She is mine.

I pushed her away once, but I won’t avoid her again.

I saunter to her table, feigning nonchalance. All the while, a war rages inside my chest. I have so much to tell her, so many stories to share, so many pictures of motorcycles to show her, bikes I built based on her designs. But most of all, I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for fucking up the best thing that ever happened to me.

And with any luck, she’ll agree to listen.

Heart pounding, sweat beading on my back, I stop at her table, muster the best smile I have, and say, “Hey.”

CHAPTER 34

you’ve always been my favorite subject

MIA

Age 23

September

I stare at him,not knowing what I want more—to laugh or to hide. There are a dozen coffee shops in Monterey, yet I chose the one Dominic Watson just happens to be at?

So much for avoiding him until Matt’s wedding.

Realistically, I knew we’d end up at some of the same pre-wedding activities, but I figured I had a couple of weeks to prepare myself.

Because I amnotprepared, not even a little. While my mind races, he stands beside my table, looking at me as if the last four years and seven months never happened. And his smile? It’s doing something weird to my lady parts.

Dammit! I should be immune to his charms, especially after everything. Yet, here I am, discreetly clenching my thighs and silently berating my reproductive organs.

“Mia?”

When he says my name, I’m thankful I’m sitting down. The way my center throbs is concerning.

I finally remember how to speak. “Hi.”