Page 4 of The Most Perfect Wrong

“Oh myGod!” I blurt out, whipping my head back to Casey. “It’s him,” I squeak.

“It’s who? What are you talking about?”

“The guy at the bar. It’s the hottie runner.” Casey starts to turn, but I grab her arm. “No, don’t look! God, that’s so obvious.”

“Oh my hell, calm down. I can be sly,” she says, practically shifting her whole body toward the bar. “Which guy is it?”

“The one that’s fucking hot!” I snap, completely losing my cool.

“I don’t see a hot guy, Coop. Your standards must be getting low after being with Brad for so long.”

Casey’s never been subtle about her disapproval of Brad.

“What?” I glance back at the bar, but he’s gone. “What the hell? Where did he go?” I scan the rooftop anxiously until I spothim in a lounge chair, sitting around a rectangular fireplace with a group of people. “There!” I motion with my head toward him. “The one on the end, facing us, in the white shirt and black jacket.”

My heart pounds as I lock eyes with him, a jolt of adrenaline shooting through me. He’s staring right at me with a smoldering smirk.Damn, he’s sexy.

“Oh wow. Yeah, he’s a hottie for sure,” Casey says as she waves at him.

“Oh my… What? Why are you waving at him?”

“Because he saw me looking at him! I panicked and didn’t know what else to do.”

“Jeeeesus, Casey.” I sink back into my chair, crossing one arm across my stomach and using my other hand to cup the side of my face, blocking my view as if it can somehow shield me from the humiliation.

I casually glance in his direction, and he’s still staring, arms crossed, with a confident smile. He gives a subtle nod, cool and collected, before turning his attention back to his group.

“Shit, it’s hot out here,” I mutter, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. “Is it hot out here?” I grab my drink and take three too many swallows.

Casey giggles. “Calm down, you’re fine. Just hot and bothered is all.” She mouths something to him and gestures toward me with her head.

“What are you doing?” I hiss in a panic.

He starts to stand.

He begins to walk in our direction.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Casey says, grabbing her phone. “Greg just texted me. I have to go—he needs help with Mason.” She rushes to stand.

“What are you… what the fuck, Casey? Don’t leave me here!”

She’s already halfway up before she leans in close, whispering, “You should fuck him, Coop. Get back at Brad.”

“You’re dead to me!” I whisper-yell as she whisks away, practically running into Hot Guy.

“Oh, sorry. Excuse me,” she says to him. “I have to leave. She’s all yours,” she adds, waving her hand in my direction.

I. Am. Dead.Seriously, someone kill me now. My foot taps a million beats per minute and my stomach feels like it’s in my throat.

I force an awkward smile as he approaches. “Hi… I’m sorry,” I stammer. “That’s my sister. She clearly doesn’t get out much.”

He chuckles. “Can I sit?”

I gesture toward the now open chair. “Be my guest.”

Hot guy settles into the chair across from me. “I’m Ryan. Ryan Brooks,” he says, extending his hand confidently across the small bistro table.

“Cooper Bradley,” I reply, taking his offered hand and giving it a firm shake.

---