Page 113 of Stolen Moments

Cam: Yeah, but whatcha gonna do? I can’t believe that asshole Rivera charged Thompson and broke his leg. Who does that? Now we are out a catcher. WTF are we going to do next season?

Cam:Tell me something good. How was the party? Did you get laid? Better yet, did Mase get laid?

Mase: Shut the fuck up, kid.

Cam: Kid? Oh damn. Don’t poke the grizzly, boys. He’s grumpy.

Eli: Yeah, because he saw Emery’s brother at the party and ran out of there like his ass was on fire.

Eli: Fucker. You ditched me. Now you owe me another favor.

Jace: Another favor? Shit, Mase, how many do you owe E?

Mase: Apparently 2.

Jace: Yeesh.

Cam: Ha! You deserve to be indebted to the devil, running away like a bitch baby. What did you do, Mase?

Mase: Nothing.

Eli: Exactly.

Jace: I did nothing once. Worst mistake of my life.

Mase: **Mase has notifications silenced**

Eli: I think we hit a nerve.

Jace: Do you think he realizes he’ll see her at the wedding?

Cam:He does now. **Laughing Emoji**

Chapter thirty-eight

Emery

November

Why on earth didI let Scarlett talk me into attending this stupid event? There is no way in hell this is a business mix-and-mingle like the event ad said. The way the women are dressed tonight, it looks like they are here looking for a date, not to make business connections. Even the men are dressed like they are ready to go out clubbing.

Tightening my blazer around my waist, I make my way to the bar and order a white wine. I’m going to have one drink and then head out of here. My pajamas, reruns ofThe Witcher,and a bowl of popcorn are calling my name.

Someone bumps their arm against mine as I sip my wine, sending the cool liquid sloshing over the side and down my chin.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” A large hand holds out a few cocktail napkins.

I take them, sopping up the wine. “Can I get that dry-cleaned for you?”

I glance up at the owner of the large hand—prepared to tell him not to worry about it—and lose my train of thought when a pair of brown, almost inky black eyes stare at me with concern, trapping me like a fly in a web. His gaze is intense but not unkind, and the deep rich color reminds me of the night sky, dark and endless. He smiles, and I can’t help the way my eyes take him in.

He’s tall with long curly black hair, a jaw full of scruff, and dressed in a three-piece black suit that probably cost more than my mortgage payment. He smiles at my obvious checking him out, and damn, if I wasn’t still in love with a man with green eyes that pierce my soul, I might let this one take me home for a night.

But I am, and my lady bits only come to life for one man. I can’t even come fantasizing about Henry Cavill anymore. Mason has ruined me for all men. The sexy jerk.

At that thought, my brain synapses start working again. “No dry cleaning necessary. I wore black for a reason tonight. I figured at some point, I’d slip out, grab a slice at the pizza parlor on the corner, and eat it on my way to my car.”

“That sounds like my kind of plan.” He smiles and holds out his hand. “I’m Graham, by the way,” he says, introducing himself, and I swear I detect a slight accent.

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