Page 7 of One Night Stand After Another
By focusing entirely on moving her lungs, she managed to pull a shallow breath in and out.
Again.
Okay.
She was going to be fine.
Once again, an impulsive decision had brought her pain. However, she’d accomplished her objective. She’d apologized to Jack. She’d righted the wrong that made her jump off course. He’d forgiven her—amazing.
Then he’d thrust her into the arms of a man who made her realize her logic had been flawed. It hadn’t been humiliation that had blown her off course. It had been desire. It had been Zane. And Lila was absolutely right. She couldn’t truly move on until she faced him.
Or she could let go of him, walk out the front door, and do whatever she wanted. She didn’t owe him anything.
But that felt wrong, because Lila was right about that, too. This wasn’t about Zane. This was about her. And that really sucked goat balls, because running away was so much easier.In the short term, she reminded herself.
For the first time in ten years, since she had signed her college loan agreement and given up on her dreams, she opened the box where she kept her feelings for Zane. Unsurprisingly, there was a lot to unpack. She’d have to do most of it later. But she could take care of the first layer right now.
She lifted her gaze to connect with his again, and an involuntary sigh tore from her lungs. When she looked into his eyes, she felt seen. Really and truly known. Her Gucci dress, professionally airbrushed makeup, and expensive blowout made zero difference. They connected on a level that defied all pretense. She would swear it.
And she was 100 percent wrong.
Zane had used her to score points off Jack, and the connection between them was all in her head. Even knowing that, she took one more deep breath of him—purely for future sweater inspiration, of course. Then she let go of his shoulders, flung his hands from her waist, and stepped back.
The wary confusion in his eyes was satisfying.
“I promised Lila I wouldn’t let anyone get a picture of me throat-punching you. You’ve got sixty seconds to find us an empty room before I break that promise.”
“Then I’ll need to move fast.” He bent and swept her off her feet and into his arms. The crowd parted, laughing. She heard a smattering of applause.
His lips brushed her ear. “You can’t walk fast enough to get anywhere in those fuck-me heels. Did you wear those to torture me? To show me how badly I screwed up? Lila said you came here to apologize to Jack, but I call bullshit. No way. No one would do that. You could have called. Or sent an email. A letter. You wouldn’t risk ruining his wedding. That’s not you.”
“You don’t know me,” she snapped.
“I used to. People don’t change that much.”
His sheer nerve was staggering. “That’s it—I’m breaking my promise to Lila.” She drew back her fist.
He tightened his hold. “I still have thirty seconds.” He carried her right through the wide door of the coat check, easily balancing her weight as he opened a door in the back of the room.
“Let’s finish this where it started,” he said, muscling her through the doorway, into darkness. He set her gently on her feet and flicked a switch, illuminating a storage space filled with cleaning supplies and broken furniture.
She gasped.
“I thought this would be an appropriate location for your throat punch. Should I text Jack and his stepmom, bring it full circle? They loved catching us in the supply closet the first time.”
She shook her head slowly. “How can you think this is funny?”
“I don’t—not even a little bit.” He straightened his shoulders and gave her a somber half-smile that twisted her heart. Then he lifted his chin, exposing the strong column of his throat. “Go ahead—hit me.”
Chapter Four
Physical violence wouldn’t bring her nearly enough satisfaction, so instead, she hit him with the truth.
“I trusted you, Zane. When we danced that night, I told you my hopes and dreams for my career. Stuff I hadn’t even told Jack because he wouldn’t understand.” Jack’s wealthy family made his dreams a certainty. She and Zane had no such guarantees. “You made me feel brilliant. Seen. Understood. Especially when you told me your idea for opening a restaurant. We shared secrets—”
She paused, hesitant to reveal how she’d felt about him, but he held her gaze fully, unflinching, so she continued. “And it wasn’t just that night. We spent a lot of time working together at Breeze over the years. Even though you and Jack didn’t always get along, you and I clicked. For God’s sake, you even came to that art show where my sweaters looked absurd displayed next to exquisite drawings and paintings—”
“You should have won the textile category.”
