walked in. The air in the bar became electrically charged as if a bolt of lightning was about to strike the liquor bottles. I willed myself not to turn around, to focus on what Austen was saying.
“God, you must think I’m such a loser,” he said, slumping his shoulders.
“What? Why?” I couldn’t quite remember what he’d been saying. I was too busy trying to look like I was listening.
“I’ve told you more about my ex-wife than myself. I’ve asked you like one question, and that was just so I could lead in to another story about my ex. I’m so not ready for this.”
“You and me both, pal,” I said, raising my beer to his wine glass.
“My friends told me I needed a palate cleanser,” he confessed, then blanched. “And I probably shouldn’t have told you that. I’d find that really offensive if I were you. I am so bad at this. I’m not ready to date.”
He was adorably bad at this.
“Don’t feel bad,” I said, bumping his shoulder companionably. “I’m not exactly in a healthy relationship space either.”
“We’re not going to hook up, are we?” Austen guessed.
I shook my head. “Nope. But you can tell me all about your ex and your divorce if you want.”
He brightened.
The adorable man started at the beginning. Sophomore year of college. I felt a tingle between my shoulder blades and knew. I didn’t even jump when a familiar hand closed around my shoulder.
“Ally.”
I turned and almost choked on my own damn tongue. Dominic had ditched his jacket and was rocking the rolled-up sleeves and suspender look. I finally felt like I understood what it was like to swoon. But there were no fainting couches in this place.
And then there was the other complication.
The stunning six-foot-tall woman who looked like she’d strutted off the cover of Label in a pearl pantsuit. She had flawless dark skin and the kind of short haircut that only really, really confident women with excellent bone structure could pull off. The only makeup she seemed to be wearing was a perfectly drawn red pout.
I was pretty sure I’d just fallen in instalust with Dominic’s date.
“Dom—Mr. Russo,” I croaked.
His eyes narrowed.
It was a stupid game to be playing. I’d told him I’d be here. He’d told me he’d be here. And yet we were pretending to be surprised.
“Austen, this is—”
“Dominic Russo,” Dom said, offering his hand.
Poor unsuspecting Austen took it, and I thought I heard bone crunch.
“This is Delaney,” he said, introducing the unfairly beautiful woman. “Delaney, this is Ally.”
Delaney not only had a flawless complexion, she also had a brilliant smile. I really, really wanted to hate her… or maybe make out with her.
“So nice to meet you, Ally,” she said warmly.
Why couldn’t she be a terrible person, I moaned internally.
Then I perked up. Maybe she was one of those closet bad people. Like one who parks in handicap spaces and throws fast food bags out the window of her sports car at bike messengers.
“Ally and I work together,” Dominic said. But the way he said it made it sound sinister. Like there was so much more to it than that. And if I were the beautiful Delaney, I’d be immediately suspicious.
“I work for Mr. Russo,” I corrected.
Dominic clearly did not like me calling him that. Which made me want to do it more often.
Delaney and Austen introduced themselves to each other since Dominic and I were too busy glaring at each other to do it.
“Get you something?” the bartender asked, interrupting Awkward Hour.
They ordered, and then Dominic took the freaking stool right freaking next to mine and pulled it out for Delaney.
She even smelled good.
The bar was busy. If Dominic Russo hadn’t wedged himself in between me and his date, I would have been thinking about the tips the bartender was making. Instead, I was thinking about my boss’s hand resting on the back of my stool. His leg pressing into my knee.
It was blindingly unfair that a man who didn’t want to want me could get me in a sexual lather just by standing next to me. It had to be the cheese. I seriously needed to cut back. Everything Dom did felt like foreplay.
Austen picked up the thread of the history of the greatest tragedy of all time with his proposal at their college graduation.
I tried to focus. But when Dom picked up his drink, he kept his other hand on the back of my chair like he was claiming it. Claiming me.
The lightning feeling was