Page 91 of Falling Too Late

“He is so hot! And it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten laid. Blame my boss,” she said cheekily.

“Hey now.” Jon gave her a faked stern look.

Jon rested his arm across the back of my chair while he and Melissa caught up. His fingers grazed my arm lightly. I fought myself to not pull away from his touch.

I took in a deep breath. I had gone out with Jon and Melissa before, but I was fidgety. Jon had never been forward with me. He had always been relatively respectful and able to gauge my reaction, but tonight I kept thinking of Alex.

Being out with Jon felt like I was betraying him. Which was unfair to Jon. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had only ever done things with my comfort in mind.

I knew this.

“Melissa, I think your date is here.” My attention was diverted to the figure walking toward us.

Who stole my breath away.

“Alex.”

CHAPTER 34

WREN

I froze,wide-eyed, horror, panic, and disbelief all flooding through me at once.

I blinked again and again but he was still there, staring down at me.

Anger surged in me, and I had to fight it back, balling my hands into fists. The night he left me to go hunt Kevin down hit me blow for blow. I had to fight to keep myself together.

Brown eyes were on me, but I didn’t see the warmth in them any longer—no, there was fire behind those eyes now. The world tilted on its axis, and I could faintly hear Melissa introducing us to her date.

Alex was her date.

I tore my eyes from him and looked at Melissa. She could see him too?

But he’s dead. He’s not supposed to be here.

Alex was in front of me, his large and very tattooed hands gripping the back of Melissa’s chair as he helped tuck her under the table.

The gesture flared something inside me.

Jealousy?

I looked at Jon as Alex moved to him, reaching across thetable. Jon mechanically gave him his hand, shaking it. I could faintly see Jon wince at the contact.

“But you’re. . .” The words died on my lips. The betrayal rolled in slowly.

I was still awestruck at the sight of him. Blatantly staring at him. He was dressed in a well-fitted suit, a forest-green dress shirt underneath, and even wore deep green and gold cufflinks. A part of me wondered if he did that intentionally.

With every move he made his muscles contracted under his clothes. His hair was cut shorter now, not the messy mop I remembered.

Then the waitress was there.

“Can I get you something to drink?” She directed the question to Alex, but I jumped in.

“Yeah, whiskey on ice, a double.”

“Make that two,” Alex said, a wicked look in his eyes.

“Three. Make that three,” I said. I needed the alcohol, because how the hell was this man here, now, sitting across from me?

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