“Wow, she really lives in Spain now? Good for her.” Sasha dances around me. Because the woman doesn’t walk, she bounces and glides and shimmies. I’m not even exaggerating. For someone with such a troubled past—not that I know much about it—she is full of energy.
I don’t even mind that she’s been asking about Rocco and Vanessa. Frankly, I’d talk about anything with her. Anything to avoid the conversation I have.
She looks even better now that we’re chatting. I’ve been observing her from afar, but her beauty lights up when she is all animated. God, I wish I hadn’t done all those stupid things to help her and protect her. Or rather, I shouldn’t have done them the way I did. And she is so young. Life hasn’t been kind to her—judging by what I know about her past—and the last thing she needs is an old stalker.
I never planned to get in this deep. Fuck.
The weather is balmy, but I’m sweating as if we’re in a freaking desert. I’ve followed her down this path many times, so I should enjoy finally walking with her, but the impeding confession is spoiling the fun.
“So what are you doing now that Rocco is gone?” Sasha stops and cocks her head, watching me. Now that we’re no longer talking about other people, she wants to give me her undivided attention. Or maybe I’m projecting. More like wishing.
“I own a security company and a club.” I put my hands in my pockets because I don’t know what to do with them. Or with her piercing gaze. She won’t be looking at me like this for much longer.
“That’s great. How did that happen so fast?”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Do you want to grab a coffee or something?” She startles at that. “Or not. You must be tired.”
“No, I’ll have a tea. I’m tired but I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet, anyway. There is a place not far from here.”
Yeah, I know the place because we walk by it on our way from her work. Obviously, I can’t tell her that. Instead, I smile and offer her my arm. She hooks hers through it and hops a little, as excited as if I were taking her for a three course gourmet meal in a fancy restaurant.
“Tell me about your entrepreneurial success,” she says, her eyes gleaming when we sit down with our drinks.
“Don’t idolize it. The security company has been our retirement plan all along, but it just happened faster. It’s doing well. I run it with my partner, Jason. He was there that night too.” I refer to our first meeting. “The club is kind of an unexpected thing. But I can’t claim any achievement there because it was running and successful when we got on board.”
Her eyes are the most beautiful blue color. People always rave about blue eyes, but I’ve never seen an indigo hue this dark yet sparkling like Sasha’s. It’s not just the color—it’s how expressive they are. Her feelings shine through. And right now, those eyes are glowing with respect and, dare I believe it, adoration? Jesus. She’s so wrong.
“So you bought it? I didn’t know body guarding pays so well.” She shakes her head, teasing me.
“Body guarding.” I chuckle. “I didn’t get a chance to spend much when working for Rocco and he helped me invest, so I had a decent chunk at the end. The club? You wouldn’t believe it, but we inherited the club. From Rocco. He really is responsible for a lot of my current success.”
“Vanessa’s boyfriend? Wow! He was always something. On their first date, he sent a stylist and wardrobe for all of us in the shelter.” She shrugs in glee at the memory and I get irrationally jealous of my dead former employer.
“Yeah, he was a nice guy.”
“You miss him?” She misinterprets my lack of enthusiasm.
“I don’t miss the life, but he was a good boss. What have you been up to?” I flinch a little. The question came out without me thinking. I know what she’s been up to. I wanted to come clean and tell her about my…strange behavior. Asking questions I already know the answer to isn’t the best or the most honorable course of action here.
“Bruce is out of the picture,” she says quickly, probably misreading my sour face. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror lining the wall behind her and I look like I am going to throw up. Fuck. I need to say goodbye and leave her alone. “He’s in jail.”
“He belongs there.” Just tell her the truth. She might forgive you.
“After you saved me that night”—and now I’m sure there’s adoration in her eyes—“I was kind of lost for a few months, but recently things started looking up.” Her smile blinds me. “I got a job and a new apartment.”
I know. “It’s good you’re no longer in that house.”
“They have been helping many desperate souls, but yeah, life is better when I stand on my own feet.” She fidgets with a paper napkin, avoiding my eyes. Overcome with the need to touch her, I stare at her long, slender fingers. I barely stop myself from squeezing her hand. Comforting her.
“What’s the name of your club?” she asks.
“B&B. We have Vanessa to thank for that and Rocco’s weird sense of humor. She used to call us Bond and Bourne, so I guess this is him laughing at us.” I shrug.
Sasha throws her head back and laughs. The sound is like a song and a lullaby in one. I want to make her laugh more just to get high on it. No. Stop it, asshole. Tell her the truth and cut your losses.
After her laughter dies, a smile still lingers when our eyes lock again. The world slows down as I fix my attention on the sharp cheekbones I want to cup, the indigo eyes I want to swim in, the lips I want to kiss.
The silence between us stretches and I wish I could rewind to six weeks ago and instead of checking up on her from afar, I would have walked into her life like a normal, reasonable person. Maybe is she was at least ten years younger, I would have.
She exhales a loaded sigh and looks at me. “I’m glad you showed up tonight.”
What her words do to me is indescribable.
It’s raw.
Warm.
Exhilarating.
With a big fucking cloud of my still unshared confession.
“I’m glad too.” The words scratch my throat. Come on, loser. Tell her already. It could be a cute story if you tell it well. For all I know, she might not even feel the same attraction, but I need to come clean before I find out.
“I have a stalker,” she blurts out and the thud of my heart dropping to my feet almost deafens me.