Page 56 of On the Way to You

I hooked my fingers over the leather of my clutch, holding it in front of me as I slowly moved through the crowd, eyes on the bar. The music was so loud I couldn’t think, couldn’t process, the lights flashing bright over the sea of faces before they disappeared again. When I found a small clearing, I stood still, gathering my bearings.

And then I saw him.

Emery was at the bar, just like I’d suspected, seated at the far end of it on a barstool with people crowding on either side of him trying to get the bartenders’ attention. His hand rested on the lower back of some platinum blonde girl, and that was all I could see of her from the back — that and her sky high, red-bottomed heels that matched the crimson sequin detailing on her dress.

His hands were on her.

But his eyes were on me.

The blonde leaned in to talk in his ear over the music as his gaze fell from my eyes down over my chest, my ribs, my legs. I thought I saw him swallow, though I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was he was scowling, and when he met my gaze again, he didn’t move. He didn’t get up and come to me or call me over. His eyes didn’t widen at my dress. His jaw didn’t drop.

He just stared.

And my heart sank all the way down to the dance floor.

I thought he was coming back to me, I thought the bad day was over, but he was looking at me like he didn’t want me there, like he was annoyed I showed up at all. It was clear to me in that moment that our kiss meant absolutely nothing to him, and that likely, I didn’t either.

Stupid girl.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream and throw a fit and pack my bags and catch the next flight out of town. I didn’t even know where I would go — back to Mobile? On to Seattle? To wherever the first flight would take me? It didn’t matter, but I couldn’t stay in that club another minute letting him make me feel like I didn’t belong.

My bottom lip quivered as I ripped my gaze from his, but I held my chin high, biting back any emotion as I started making my way through the crowd again. He didn’t deserve my tears, especially since he clearly wouldn’t care if they fell.

I was nearly to the door when a hand wrapped around my wrist, gentle yet firm as it pulled me to a halt.

I turned, my eyesight blocked immediately by a wide chest, and when I craned my neck up to get a good look at the man hooked to the hand still holding me in place, my pulse ticked back to life.

He was ridiculously tall, especially next to me, with midnight skin and jet-black eyes. Those eyes were drinking me in, his full lips settling into a smirk as he pulled me just a little closer to him.

“I’m sorry, but there’s just no way.”

I stared at him, confused, my head tilting a little as I leaned in so I could hear him better. “I’m sorry?”

“There’s no way,” he repeated, taking my cue and stepping closer.

My eyes jetted to the left, then to the right, before finally finding his again. “I… I don’t understand.”

“It’s just, I saw you from where I was sitting at the bar, just standing out there on that dance floor. You walked in, stood there, looked like someone broke your damn heart, and then you turned to leave. I almost thought I imagined you, because there’s no way you got all dressed up, that you walked out of your hotel tonight looking likethis,” he said, eyes trailing my body slowly again. “Just to leave the club before midnight.”

I’d never blushed so furiously in my life, and I prayed he didn’t see it as a bright flash of light found us in the dark before quickly shading us again.

“I was supposed to meet someone here, but…” I paused, unsure how to finish the sentence. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I was just heading back up for the night.”

He shook his head. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter. And there’s not a chance in hell you’re leaving yet, not before you let me buy you a drink.”

I sighed, looking at the exit longingly. It was my way out of here, out of this dress, out of my head.

“Come on,” the guy pleaded, squeezing my hand in his. “Just one drink, and if you still want to leave when it’s gone, I’ll walk you to the door.”

I looked up at him again, finding nothing but a genuine smile, a genuine guy who thought I was pretty and wanted to buy me a drink. And maybe it was the thousands of miles between me and the parents who made me not want to ever touch alcohol, or maybe it was the embarrassment I felt from Emery’s rejection, or maybe it was just not wanting to waste a dress I thought I’d never wear and makeup I knew I’d never know how to do again — but whatever the reason, I let out a long exhale, my worries riding it like a wave.

For once, a drink seemed like exactly what I needed.

“You’ve got a deal.”

His grin doubled, eyes lighting up with my permission as he held my hand a little tighter, tugging me through the crowd again and back to the bar. When he found a space to squeeze in, we were pressed together, my chest hitting just under his as he placed a warm hand on my lower back.

“I’m Trey,” he said, leaning in to yell over the music.