Page 23 of Burning Daylight
I suck in a deep breath, but nearly forget how to breathe at all when my gaze catches on icy blue eyes.
Familiaricy blue eyes.
Trouble.
He’s standing there, half shadowed beneath the gallery lights, dressed in a black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A silver ring glints on his first finger, and ink coils along his forearms—more than he had four years ago. But it’shim. The same messy brown hair, same lazy confidence, and that same damn smirk with those obnoxious dimples.
His stare finds mine and doesn’t waver.
Amanda’s voice barely cuts through the static in my brain. “Ry, this is?—”
“Princess,” he cuts her off.
I bite back a small grin. “Hi, Trouble.”
His lips twitch, and Amanda scoots closer to his side. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink. His attention is locked on me.
And just like the first time we met, it tilts me off balance.
“You two know each other?” she asks sharply.
He doesn’t answer. Just stares. And I stare back, even though I know I shouldn’t. Even though it feels like the air between us is thinning with every second.
I don’t know why, but this feels important.
“Hello?” Amanda snaps her fingers. “I said?—”
“Yes,” he answers.
“No,” I reply at the same time.
There’s a beat of silence and then my grin widens, impossible to hide.
“We met once,” I say finally, dragging my eyes away from him to look at her. “A long time ago.”
“It wasn’tthatlong ago,” he murmurs.
“The length of time doesn’t matter,” I argue. “Once is still a small thing.”
“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”
I purse my lips, thrown by the response. “That’s oddly profound.”
He nods solemnly, his hand to his chest. “Winnie the Pooh said that.”
“Of course he did.” I laugh. “Leave it to a stuffed bear to make you sound enlightened.”
“There it is.” He grins. “That mean streak of yours. Still incredibly hot, by the way.”
My cheeks flush, and Amanda stiffens next to him.
“I’m just saying it’s irrelevant,” I barb back. “That’s not how I remember our first meeting going.”
It’sexactlyhow I remember it.
I haven’t stopped thinking about him since that night, no matter how many stories I’ve written trying to erase him from my mind.
“I’d love to hear more about your version,” he says, a slow smile curling up his lips. “Mymemory is that you thought I was the sexiest guy you’d ever seen, and it made you…unreasonably cranky.”
