Page 7 of This Wild Heart

The disappointment was there and gone in a blink, but I was used to that, too.

She moved briskly past me, and I rolled my neck until I felt a pop, ready to be back in my hotel room where I could crack open a beer and watch someSportsCenterand eventually stare up at the ceiling while I tried to sleep.

I was used to that too.

A shrieking bachelorette party moved in a line past me, moving faster than they had any right to, and I hopped backward so they didn’t knock into me, colliding with a soft body behind me. After a hasty apology to a woman who’d already dashed off to find her friends, I looked up, eyes snagging on a table along the far wall of the bar.

I noticed the hair first, a quick zing of interest shooting down my spine before I could stop it.

I’d only known one person with hair that color of blond—lighter than I’d ever seen before and falling down her back in luscious, thick waves—and if the person with that hair was sitting at this bar in Vegas, it was entirely possible that I was going to have a fucking heart attack right where I stood.

My pulse gave an uneven thump when the owner of that hair turned on her seat, crossing impossibly long legs underneath the table. Even though everyone around her was dressed for dancing, for sex, and for sin, she was wearing a black T-shirt and very short denim shorts, the stringy hem riding up when she leaned forward, allowing for a clear glimpse of toned thigh.

Her hand came up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and when her profile came into view—the delicate jaw, the high cheekbones and the long eyelashes—I felt it.

Click.Boom.

Like someone pressed a button and an atomic bomb went off in my chest.

I hadn’t seen her since my sister’s wedding. And the last time I’d been in the same room as her, there was a diamond on her ring finger. It wasn’t there now.

When the hell did Anya Hennessy get un-engaged?

God, the sight of her was a shock to my system.

Weaving through bodies toward their table, I knew going over there while I felt like this—desperate to wade into any sort of connection that sparked a feeling beneath my ribs—was a fucking horrible idea.

I hadn’t thought of her in a couple of months and had long made peace with the thing I’d felt at Adaline’s wedding was no more than head-spinning lust. Attraction to an inconvenient person.

It wasn’t even lust that I felt right now. It was interest. And interest in anything felt like someone set the paddles to my chest and yelledclear!

When she tipped her head back and laughed, a thick, heavy cloud of anticipation curled around all those empty spots inside me.

The wise thing would’ve been to take a minute to try to figure out what happened and why her ring finger was decidedly bare. But I didn’t wait. And I didn’t pause. Eyes locked on that table, I approached with my hands in my pockets and a slight smile on my face.

Chase this feeling, my head screamed.Don’t let it go anywhere.

Her friend saw me, her dark eyes narrowing first before widening in recognition. Under the table, she kicked Anya.

Anya laughed. “Ouch. Keep your feet to yourself, Vida.”

Vida, with the vicious right foot, long braids that hung down her back, and a tiny diamond in her nose, cleared her throat, giving me a pointed look over Anya’s shoulder. “I just thought you’d want to say hi.”

Anya glanced in my direction, her mouth falling open slightly as she did a double take. “Parker? What are you doing here?”

My gaze traced her face for longer than was polite. She had a light dusting of freckles over her nose, the obvious flush of alcohol in her cheeks, and the bright-eyed look of someone having a lot of fun.

“And to think I was just about to leave,” I told her as I stood between Anya and her friend. “That would’ve been a tragedy.”

Her friend nodded, eyes wide and serious. “It would have been. We’d need to take a sad shot for that.”

Anya gave her a sharp look, then returned her attention to my face, down my chest and to where my hands were safely tucked away. Inside the pockets, my fingers curled up helplessly.

“A sad shot?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She gave her friend a stern look. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

“Also a tragedy.” I tilted my head. “You look incredible.”

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