Page 49 of Beauty
Her mouth hangs open. “That’s what you get from my writing?”
“Actually,” I tell her, “it’s how Daniel described it when he was telling the guys about you during morning skate last week.”
Hannah lifts her chin and scans the room. Daniel was running late, so he didn’t make it in time to sit with us. While she looks for him, I scan the crowd for a familiar face, figuring I’ll bow out and give them some time alone. The bond between them is growing, whether Hannah wants to believe it or not, and since I live with her, I’m always in their space.
I’m leaning in, ready to tell her I’ll catch up with her later, when my attention snags on a figure at the front of the room and my heart stops.
Because the beautiful woman standing in front of the pergola is more familiar to me than anyone in this room.
But it can’t be her.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them again, she’s still there. What the fuck?
Her high cheekbones and porcelain skin look exactly as I remember. Her dark hair is down and wavy and far longer than it was the last time I saw her. The petite frame and curvy hips are the same. But her big smile and stunning green eyes are what finally convince me that I haven’t lost my mind. She’s really here. She’s gesticulating wildly as she talks to Gavin Langfield, part-owner of the Bolts and my coach. Beckett, his brother and the other co-owner, is there too, as well as his wife.
What is she doing here? And how the hell does she know the Langfields?
“You okay?” Hannah squeezes my arm, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I’m afraid to look away from the woman I’ve been dreaming of for years, worried that she’ll vanish, but with a shake of my head, I garner the strength to turn to Hannah.
“Might have.” I rub a hand over my face, already working on a way to get Sienna alone. In a room full of people, including allthe bigwigs who have the power to make or break my career, I can’t just rush up to her and scoop her up into a hug. But I need to know why she’s here. “I’m going to splash some water on my face.”
Daniel appears, cupping Hannah’s arm. “I’ve got her.”
With a wooden nod, I stalk away. Fuck, I need a moment to think. To breathe. To figure out my next fucking move. Sienna is here. My Sienna.
Finally.
All the ridiculous searching I’ve done for years finally feels worth it. I knew our story wasn’t over. I knew it wasn’t a waste of time to wait for her. To ignore every woman who crossed my path because none of them were her.
She’s here.
My mind is spinning as I approach the doors, but before I can exit, I run smack dab into War’s chest.
“Whoa, buddy,” he says, steadying me. “Where are you rushing off to? Brooks wants to take a few pictures with us before cocktail hour.”
I blow out a breath, then another, willing my heart to stop racing and my ears to stop ringing. Sienna won’t evaporate into thin air, and if she does, I now have connections that’ll help me find her. It’s safe to take some damn pictures.
Nodding, I follow War, and when I spot Brooks waiting with his new wife and the photographer, my muscles relax a fraction.
Shit, she’s really here.
Nervous energy merges with excitement, and there goes my heart again, this time taking off at a gallop. Somehow I make it through pictures, though there’s a chance I’ll look like a maniac in every one. But for the most part, I rein in all the emotions overtaking me while I congratulate the couple and even join in on a conversation or two.
As Brooks and Sara move on for photos with other people, my mind whirls again, working through all the reasons Sienna could be here.
And considering the best way to approach her.
War suggests getting a drink at the open bar, and I nod quickly. It’ll give me a few more minutes to figure out my next move. Maybe I’ll even fill War in. He’ll know what to do.
As we walk away, Sara says, “There’s your sister. Do you want a photo with her alone?”
That catches my attention. I haven’t seen Brooks’s sister since she was a kid. I think she came to a game or two when we were in college.
“Sienna,” Sara says, and I whip around. “Come grab a pic with Brooks. Your brothers are taking too long.”
Sienna,my Sienna, is no more than twenty feet from me, rolling her eyes.
