Page 10 of Marrying Mr. Wentworth (Austen Hunks #3)
Even later — Christopher
I knew I was in trouble the second Ariana ordered a second round of drinks and looked me dead in the eye while doing it. The whole night, all I could think about was what Nick said to me in the suite earlier. “ The way I see it, this weekend may just be your last chance .”
Was there anyway he was right? An alternate universe in which Ariana might actually give me another chance?
The first thing I did was confirm she was single. Ariana hadn’t exactly appreciated the inquiry. Meg hadn’t been much friendlier when I cornered her by the bathroom to ask either. Let’s just say I survived, but barely.
“ Who wants to know ?” Meg had said, her eyes narrowed to slits.
“ I do ,” I’d replied.
“ Don’t even think about it, ” Meg had replied, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as she strolled off toward the table again.
I’d been forced to text Jeremy for the information.
Me:
Is Ariana seeing anyone?
Remington:
Oh, bro.
Me:
C’mon man, level with me.
Remington:
Not that I know of. But seriously. Don’t.
That gave me pause. Of course it did. But looking at Ariana, I knew I couldn’t resist. I was going to go for it.
Maybe it was the same ego that had me believing I’d had a chance in the music industry.
But I’d done it, hadn’t I? I’d beaten the odds once.
I might just be able to do it again. Somebody famous once said, “You lose 100% percent of the shots you don’t take. ” That was damn right.
“Another cabernet, please. And a bourbon for my neighbor. He’s going to need it.” Ariana ran her fingers through her long, dark hair and she looked so sexy, I had to bite the inside my cheek. Time had only made her more gorgeous.
The waitress blinked at me, tapping her pen on her order pad.
“I’ll take the bourbon,” I said quickly, before Ariana could add something mortifying like “Make it a double—he’s got regrets.”
We were two hours into the night, and I was already two and a half drinks into what could only be described as a rapidly deteriorating coping strategy.
Ariana was holding court like she owned the place—sharp, funny, ice-cold with me and charming with everyone else. The kind of woman who’d win a bar fight with a look.
I loved her.
God help me, I’d never stopped.
After dinner, the chaos moved to a rooftop bar, where the music was too loud and the drinks came in absurd neon glasses with flaming fruit and bendy straws. Ariana vanished into a knot of bridesmaids and bachelorette chaos. I lost her for ten minutes. Ten agonizing minutes.
Because I was looking for her.
Everywhere.
Nick handed me a tequila shot like he was issuing last rites. “You’re staring.”
“I’m not staring.”
“Staring with your soul, ” Liam added, materializing on my other side like an annoying angel of truth.
I knocked back the tequila. Then I saw her.
Ariana, standing at the edge of the bar—one hip cocked, head thrown back, laughing at something Ellie said, hair tumbling down one shoulder, the strip lights catching in her dark-green eyes.
And suddenly I was twenty again. Sitting in the grass at campus, listening to her explain her plan to become a prosecutor like it was already a fact. She’d had a water bottle in one hand and ambition blazing in her chest.
I’d loved her then too. And like a dumbass, I’d let her go.
She spotted me. Tilted her head. Walked straight over like she hadn’t just burned herself into my bloodstream all over again.
“You’re staring,” she said.
“Not true,” I lied.
Her brow lifted. “Yeah, you are. You’re staring like you forgot how to blink.”
I shrugged. Probably time to admit it. “I might’ve been.”
She laughed, sharp and low. “Careful, Wentworth. You’re not as smooth as you think you are.”
“I’m not trying to be smooth.”
Her smile faded, just slightly. “Then what are you trying to be?”
I opened my mouth. Almost said it.
Then someone handed her a glittery shot glass, and she downed it in one gulp. I watched her throat work and swallowed too.
The moment slipped away.
But if I’d answered her question, really answered it, it would’ve been: “I’m trying to be the guy you might still love.”