Page 4 of Reputation (Toronto Royals #1)

Chapter Three

Eavie

After an hour of gossip and an empty bottle of champagne, Eavie’s cheeks were sore from all her laughing.

Getting Joyce to spill about the latest drama from the ballet was never too difficult and generally dominated the conversation, which was more than fine with Eavie.

She wasn’t a fan of being in the spotlight.

Joyce had tried to keep the focus on her promotion, but she gave in to Eavie’s persuading to dish about the recent drama behind the curtains.

Slipping through the crowd on her way to the bathroom, she was still shaking her head at the ridiculous story about how two of Joyce’s co-workers had been caught in the middle of having sex in one of the props by the stage director, who also happened to be the girlfriend of one of those dancers.

Finishing washing her hands, she pulled her lipstick out of her bag and reapplied a coat of her favorite Chanel Rouge that had since been rubbed off. Stepping back, she used her fingers to fluff her hair before giving herself a once-over in the mirror above the sink.

Her outfit, mixed with the warmth of the alcohol in her veins, made her feel sexy and confident. The heady sensation had her shoulders pulling back a little more as she left the bathroom, retracing her steps down the dimly lit hallway.

Opening her clutch, she swapped her lipstick for her phone. When she turned it to face her, the screen lit up, and a text notification from her brother flashed across the background photo of the two of them from their summer family vacation.

Eric:

Well, we both know I got all the brains of the family, so it can’t be you…

Eavie gasped as laughter bubbled past her lips at her brother’s rude joke. Distracted by his message, she suddenly collided with a solid wall of muscle.

Two large hands shot out, grasping her upper arms to keep her from falling as she rocked backward on her heels. Sparks shot up her arms and spread through her body like a live wire, sending her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings against her ribs.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice asked as strong hands steadied her.

His voice was smooth and rich—like decadent silk caressing her skin.

A shiver snaked through her entire body as the hypnotizing sound wrapped around her.

Heat radiated through his hands and into her, instantly igniting her body.

An ache more potent than she had ever felt formed low in her belly and pulsed with each beat of her heart.

His rich scent of musk and citrus was an intoxicating combination, amplifying her reaction and making her hormones flutter out of control.

It made her want to lean in and lick him.

Stunned at her intense reaction to this stranger, she stepped back from him, giving herself space. The cool air around them brushed her cheeks, banking the fire burning in her body.

“No, that was my fault. I should have been looking where I was going,” she said, looking up at him. “I should be the one asking if you’re okay.” She laughed breathlessly as her gaze roamed his frame.

God, he was tall. Even with her height and heels, she still had to look up at him.

He was well over six feet tall, with strong, broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble.

His hair was a rich, chestnut brown—thick with a bit of a wave and mesmerizing gray eyes the color of a summer storm.

In his tight blue button-down, he reminded her of a statue of a Roman warrior come to life.

He was, quite possibly, the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever seen.

Oddly, as she stared transfixed into his dangerous gaze, she had an undeniable feeling she somehow knew him. It was ridiculous, of course. Surely, she would remember meeting someone like him. But as she scanned his face again, her mind spun, trying to place where she had seen him.

When he flashed her an irresistible smile, like a siren call, Eavie was helpless to resist returning it.

Uncomfortable with the intense pull she felt from looking into his eyes, Eavie looked down only to be greeted with a view of his chest, which, even covered in a shirt, she could tell was strong and sculpted.

Fumbling for words, she said, “Um…so I hope you are okay.” She laughed again nervously. “No permanent damage?” It was a joke, obviously, since there was no way someone her size could cause this god of a man injury.

He chuckled as he gazed at her, and she swore she could feel the rumble down her spine. “I’m good, I promise,” he said, flashing her a devastating smile. “Though maybe you could give me your number so you can check tomorrow for any bruising.”

“Oh?” Eavie raised one eyebrow. “How would me, giving you my number, accomplish that?” she countered, shocked at how naturally flirting with him came, but completely unable to resist.

“It wouldn’t, but it would give me the chance to ask you to dinner,” he said confidently.

Eavie laughed at the blatant pick-up line. Oh, but he was charming. She didn’t usually go for guys who jumped into flirting so quickly, but from him, it was almost irresistible.

She looked down, biting her freshly painted lips, as her eyes took him in again. There was something so magnetizing about him—an invisible force that made her want to prolong her time in his vicinity.

Looking back up at him through her lashes, she couldn’t stop herself from responding in kind. “Or,” she paused, a coy smile replacing her teeth, “you could just ask me out now.”

He blinked at her, almost as if he wasn’t expecting the line to work. She tilted her head, watching him watch her. It was oddly satisfying to put someone as confident as he seemed off kilter.

Slowly, his smile grew. “Would you say yes?” he asked, batting the question back to her.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not taking her eyes off his. “I might.”

Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He paused with it halfway out, his eyes darkening. A smile pulled at his enticing mouth, making her stomach clench with excitement.

What she was feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced, but instead of heeding the caution bells clanging in her head, Eavie found herself wanting to dive into it headfirst, which was truly unlike her.

She thought everything through and made calculated, informed decisions.

She did not go jumping off a cliff without knowing what was at the bottom.

Fuck, what was it about him that made her want to do just that?

“How about I buy you a drink instead?” he asked, halting her runaway thoughts. She couldn’t help the surprise that slipped across her features. She smothered it quickly, but not before he saw it. “Not what you were expecting?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.

It called to her—that undertone of a dare. Her competitiveness roared to life as she raised one eyebrow, ready to counter his invitation.

“No,” she said. “But aren’t you here with people?”

He shook his head. “I was upstairs with a group. But the party was ending, and I was on my way out.”

“Oh,” Eavie said, frowning now. “I don’t want to keep you if you have somewhere to be.”

She couldn’t help the disappointment that slashed through her. She was enjoying talking to him, being around him. It hit her with the force of an asteroid. She really wanted to have a drink with him.

“Something tells me I would be an idiot not to cancel every plan I have to have a drink with you,” he said smoothly.

Her heart tripped in her chest. His words struck her deeply as her lips parted in surprise. Suddenly, she was the one off-kilter.

“So?” he asked quietly, eyes taking in her parted lips. They were standing so close his breath fanned over her heated skin.

She glanced past his shoulder. She could just see Joyce seated at their table through the crush of people inside the bar. A rush of guilt hit her. She hadn’t even considered that she was here with her best friend.

Knowing she couldn’t abandon her, she was just about to refuse when Joyce tossed her head back and laughed.

Someone in the crowd shifted, revealing the profile of a man standing next to her.

He said something that made her laugh again.

As Eavie watched, Joyce licked her lips, a telltale sign that she was into him.

They were flirting and Joyce was enjoying it.

Maybe she wouldn’t mind. Clearly, she wasn’t lonely. Besides, she had been the one to insist Eavie let loose and celebrate tonight, and God, she really wanted to spend a few more minutes absorbing the addictive feeling of being near this man.

One drink wouldn’t do any harm, and she was enjoying this back-and-forth they had going. It felt good to flirt. She couldn’t remember the last time she had. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember a time since her previous relationship that she had even been interested in someone.

Her gaze came back to him, and she smiled. “I’d love to,” she said. “I just need to let my friend know. Can I meet you at the bar?”

He flashed her another devastating smile. “Of course, take your time,” he said, turning his body so she could pass.

As she stepped around him, she lightly brushed his muscled chest with her shoulder. Sparks shot down her body, landing in her core. She was so shocked that her gaze flew up to him. His pupils had dilated, nearly overtaking the gray, and she knew he had felt that, too.

Swallowing past her dry throat, she continued back into the bar, dazed from the tidal wave of desire that caused her cheeks to flush.

What the hell was that? What she had felt with that brief contact was close to what was written in books about fated attraction and soulmates. That shit didn’t exist in real life. Had she just been transported into an alternate universe? Was she suddenly inside a Netflix rom-com?